A Spoonful of Cinnamon

[Verse 1]
01-21-2020
The day the Lord took my best friend from me
And I kind of find it funny, but not really though
I should've been six feet twenty years ago
I'll never forget all the laughs we had in the hoopty
Whipping through the country
He had a way of making cloudy days sunny
But what I miss most was when he would son me
"Like Travie, do this if you love me"
I love you, Bob

[Chorus]
2-0-2-0
So long to the bitterness
Just a spoonful of cinnamon
You know, I know
This knee on my neck is causing me to choke
Like a spoonful of cinnamon

[Verse 2]
Last year I flew to Jessup, Georgia
To meet my papa and my nana, the family of my mama
All my life I was scared he never cared for me
Because my father was black, he couldn't handle that
I could see his shadow in the doorway next to the windchime
That's poetic justice 'cause it looked just the same as mine
(He hugged me) Then he apologized for lost time
And then I lost them both, and damn near lost my mind

[Chorus]
2-0-2-0
So long to the bitterness
Just a spoonful of cinnamon
You know, I know
This knee on my neck is causing me to choke
Like a spoonful of cinnamon

[Refrain]
Feel like I'm stuck in a hole, it's kind of cynical
Downing these bottles is getting old
It's not the way, it's not the way, it's not the way
Too many funerals, biting 'em down to the cuticles
It's not the way, it's not the way, it's not the way
Over again and over again
Over again, over again

[Verse 3]
2-0-2-0
You probably think I had season tickets to funerals
I'm so sick of seeing Rest In Peace T-shirts
I swear I prayed so many prayers my fucking knees hurt
And COVID got us all stuck in the house like Mouse Trap
And ain't no telling when the hell we gonna bounce back
Plus it's open season on the melanin inclined
We all had shitty years, thanks for hearing mine

[Chorus]
2-0-2-0
So long to the bitterness
Just a spoonful of cinnamon
You know, I know
This knee on my neck is causing me to choke
Like a spoonful of cinnamon

[Refrain]
Feel like I'm stuck in a hole, it's kind of cynical
Downing these bottles is getting old
It's not the way, it's not the way, it's not the way
Too many funerals, biting 'em down to the cuticles
It's not the way, it's not the way, it's not the way
Over again and over again
Over again, over again, over again, over again