i'm broken - macka morfiss lyrics
[verse 1]
yeah, today i’m feeling unusually numb
and i’m so low when i’m alone, if you’ll excuse the pun
usually i’m feeling useless, pupils are glued up on
to my music, but i should be out sleuthing for jobs
it’s brutal when you’re the one getting out*stupidly*done
by everybody you know, even a soon to be mum
i’m scrupulous, searching for some way to be a don
or at least a man people can lean on when they don’t feel strong
yeah, ‘nother million lads like me
i’m just inviting you to my psyche
then preaching my struggles and strife to people nightly
keys and pints be inside me
wine be nice while i’m trying to decide if people like me
*get a grip mate*
i’ve got guys who despise me
over some little spicy side piece beside me
once upon a time thought they’d be wifey
*nah*
[hook]
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
[verse 2]
applying for jobs feels like i’m playing on egg sh*lls
’cause i’m a chicken and i’m afraid of excel
afraid to excel myself and get well
like i fetched pails of water from jill’s hill
that was a reach of a metaphor, yeah well
it’s an example of how sometimes my head fails
projects h*ll just like a burning capsule
from a nebula, that i bought from a tech store next to dell
next door to dr drexler, drexler may as well
text my mail man: “hand macka this letter to get help”
the message suggests excellent ways not to fail
guess everything ain’t swell i’m portrayed as being frail
like my honey trap days i could have got jumped for days
i should have ran away ’cause weren’t no one ringing the bell
but i’m stood swinging myself, i just chinned him he fell
a hook hit me as well but i’m up swigging my ale
[hook]
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
[verse 3]
my minds eye stays open as i try to close it
but it comes loose due to this clove hitch
oh sh*t! thank god i own loads of post*it notes
old bics, glow sticks and rows of dixon promoted
pencils to quote with, now my head is unloaded
’cause if i ain’t wrote it my head just turns broke quick
my led can evoke wit, so if i ain’t jotting
i freestyle it out in the church yard cold with jim
i probably seem self absorbed but i’m shy
that means i cut ties with other people that i like
i wasn’t even there when my mates brother died
should have got b*ttoned up to ride and been stood up by his side
his dad and his mother cried, it probably keeps him up at night
but keep your head up high you’ll meet him in another life
and i’m not being wet but that little man was beautiful
a big regret is not showing my face at the funeral
i feel like an alcoholic that popped the cap of his bottle of jack
and swapped it for molly, yak and a bar of smack
the way i wobble back and forth, falling over life scoffing at
food for thought, cheffed up by sigmund freud in his psych ward hat
’cause i feel insane in my brain as if i saw an alien
but what would i do if i saw a sp*ceman? i’d park in that
bad joke to crack at the moment, i’m saying i’m broken, holding back tears
like when i got chased round the cul*de*sac with a baseball bat
[hook]
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
i say i’m ok but really i’m broken
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