The Lichtenberg Figure Lyrics - Novelists

I'm not the greatest writer 

Oh, I'm not the greatest, no 

I'm not perfect, not even novelist 

This time you better listen up 

Oh, life have barely changed 

Twenty-two, still pissed 

Plenty of shits in the backpack 

And Nikes on my feet 

Many pieces are missing since I came back home 

I can't deal with my own life 

I'm incomplete 

Another empty wreck, shit 

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I'm just the shell of a man which is absent 

I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant 

What I have is far from being gold 

But I write open-hearted, my balls in the inkwell 

Fuck it, I'm done with swallowing bullshit 

Since hitting it off has become an addiction 

I needed more than these words going nowhere 

To show you that my life is not such a poem 

Some black butts will get so much bigger 

No matter how lucky I am 

I've never learned how to live with the thunder 

My heart is a lightning rod 

And I'm walking under a thunderstorm 

Mesmerized by the lights 

With my eyes half shut 

Photos 

I do live through these lines 

Writing this song just to say what I got to 

I need much more than these words 

Just to show you that it's a struggle 

To be able to believe in this life 

I write with my heart open 

Even if it can be so callous 

Just listen, this heartbeat have so much to say 

I just can't keep it in 

I just won't keep it in 

I'm not the greatest writer 

And this isn't the greatest song 

I'm not perfect, not even novelist 

I'm not saint, I'm not a fucking prophet 

Fuck this, I'm just drifting 

I keep moving pushed by the movement 

I'm still trying to pull the strings of my fucking life 

Oh, you can keep the pain 

The fame, the money and the whores 

Cause I'm a body-shaped shell in a sorry state