press on, the darkest nights of my dreams
I see, sparkles eyes and light beams
Talking to me, being what I want them to be
Yet it's different to me, because it's haunting to see
I never wanted to press, but the pressure is me
so I'm depressed in my stress, with the sentence I'm free
talking to myself, with the beat in my shirt
and it hurts, when all I'm fucking seeing is dirt
everything inside my sight, is a fight to learn
I never want to be a knife, but I slice and burn
what the fuck is going on, do I take my turn
nothing that I'm flowing on, couldn't mistake the yearn
confabulations of the truth, I sit and cry
I think about the lovely booth, I spit and try
then I think to myself, all I gotta do is press
If I never wanna see it, I just leave it with my mess
Press on, Press on with your dreams
doesn't matter what they see, what they want, you're free
To do what you wanna do, it's true, it's you
So just be what you want, what you see is true x2
Get the dirt off my shoulders, and run again
there's the hurt, when it's over, I'm rushing in
with a shirt, cause I'm sober of suffering
never worth all the smolder and tougher skin
go to church, pray jehova could love again
yes I curse, but I'm older, the gloves of sin
can disperse, now I'm colder, don't rub it in
with this verse, all the boulders are clubbed within
and the thirst, that just rovers to other men
who rebirths the exposure of mother's sin
is a burst, to my aura; I'm smothered when
I'm reversed in the horror of brothers end
on this earth, I'm a loner, with rubber bends
in my hertz, lies a honer of wondering
body's girth, I have sold all ya blunderings
pressure's dirt, now the soldier can slumber, yeah.
Press on, Press on with your dreams
doesn't matter what they see, what they want, you're free
To do what you wanna do, it's true, it's you
So just be what you want, what you see is true x2