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was it wicked of me? - henry bowers lyrics

was it wicked of me?

[verse]
dark grows the diagnosis
what has gotten into me?
it’ll be the bittersweet epitome of dignity
i’ll taste the sweet fruit from the forbidden tree
but it came to its senses and it died to get rid of me
i’m keeping something hidden deep, it must be the pain
as i rush between trains, cause buses and planes
doing underpaid shows in my searches for fame
fools got nothing to gain by making fun of my name
see me drinking soft drinks with the taste of ginger
next minute, lights out, and your face is injured
inflicting much pain as i pick apart brains
with my self*dеsigned tools that could make a barred cranе
wake up and smell the roses, as h*ll approaches
don’t like it? you can tell the roaches
or maggots cause bugs and worms will be our only companions, bigot!

do you think me wicked?

[chorus]
i’m sick of this place and i’m sick of my face
sick of days chasing days, need to quicken my pace
i’m sick of all the phonies and i’m sick of the scene
i gave ’em all h*ll, was it wicked of me?
i’m sick of this place and i’m sick of my face
sick of days chasing days, need to quicken my pace
if this is leading anywhere then it’s tricky to see
i gave ’em all h*ll, was it wicked of me?

[verse]
yeah i’ve seen some sh*t in my days
refresh my memory with a spit in my face
i keep a photo on my wall of each of all my enemies
sure, i got some nice pictures and some beautiful memories
they’re hidden in my drawer not on display like they should
but it’s just that i got no frames nice enough to put ’em in
so i keep them there, never let ’em out before
guess i need some fresh air and i’m headin’ out the door
people call my name when i’m walking by, it’s tiring
cause you never know if they’re mocking or admirin’
some even try to evil*eye, keep on walking by
not time sweet preachers better back up off me as they offer
coffee, cookies, and salvation, claim they’re heaven*sent
put on earth to calm all the flames of discontent
but old joe hill, you were right all the time
i know there’ll be no pie in the sky when i die

[verse]
now the final bell tolls for me, i say let it ring
all i ever wanted was a little bit of everything
let me rest my head on the bed of sinking feelings
in this state, when awake, just never seems appealing
i’m tryin’ to find some peace, please, mister tambourine man
could you shut the f*ck up? i’m halfway to dreamland
just let me write my songs the way i wanna
don’t say i’m on a wicked path i’m sick of that
i hate when all the big*heads think they’re on the only road that we can follow
leave you just as big*headed as the ghosts of sleepy hollow
you talk true sh*t – i’m like “schaa*ptuh*spit”
then i’ll pin your eyes out with a sharp toothpick
and throw your pitiful bottoms into a bottomless pit
i fail to see the thin line between polish and demolish
an appetite for destruction, that’s the wrecking ball
bring it on!
while i’m tryin’ to rep the second floor, singin’ song

wicked!
wi*wi*wi*wicked
[?]
every time i get wicked
wicked!
wi*wi*wicked
wi*wicked
wi*wi*wicked

- henry bowers lyrics

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