Suli Breaks The Graveyard song lyrics

I see dead people.

Men walking into offices to sit in coffins.

People handed death certificates disguised as a salaries

My peers working 9–5 earning nowhere near enough to survive

So it's far from ironic that my bredrin said me

that at nights after work she sleeps like a corpse

Sometimes it feels like my city is a graveyard

Sometimes I feel like the ghost whisperer

Sometimes I feel I'm just watching

re-runs of the Michael Jackson Thriller video

Because everybody is dancing and singing like they are alive

But it doesn't take a genius to see

that they are rotting on the inside

It's easy to say they gave up on life

Because if your just a victim of a system that's pulling the trigger

Is it still suicide?

So early in our lives were forced into

uniforms which strip us of our identity

Stand in firing lines outside classrooms

designed to kill everything unique about us

They did say that good die young

Abraham is only man I ever knew who was willing to stand

at the altar and sacrifice his happiness for someone else

And even he hesitated

Even God agreed that it wasn't worth it

Let me ask you a question

Have you ever played spot the difference between living and existing

What does unhappiness taste like

And do you try and brush it out your

mouth every night before you go to sleep

And every morning before you head out Monday to Friday

And does it leave a bitter taste in your mouth on Sunday evenings

Sometimes making that bread can be a recipe for disaster

When was the last time you fed your soul

And didn't your parents teach you to always finish your plate

I think we can all agree that slavery is

still alive, and we are just concealing it

Because maybe it's easier to admit to defeat

The truth were afraid to admit to ourselves

So instead we carry on digging our own graves

Chasing for promotions we don't

really want to hang around necks like medals

But instead they hang around our necks

like nooses attached to glass ceilings

And most don't even have the courage to jump

so instead remain on an office chair in purgatory

Not living or dying, just surviving.

Just surviving

Just getting-bying

I sit at the edge of this cemetery using my words like flowers

To mourn the ones we have lost.

But sometimes I feel like flowers aren't enough

Or is it that there are just too many graves.