SHE DIDN'T WRITE by Illogic
SHE DIDN'T WRITE by Illogic

SHE DIDN’T WRITE

Illogic * Track #4 On THE TRANSITION

SHE DIDN’T WRITE Lyrics

[Verse 1]
The house that sits atop this mountain has no windows, and arachnid webs rest in each pain
A mirror image of how life decautioned those and adapts the search for someone else to blame
They tell me life is what you make it so I made it a blast
Gave the answers first and asked the questions last
So when my son took his first step, yeah, I laughed, and I shed a tear the first time he called me dad
This shows that everything is everything and nothing’s still something
I’ll be standing right there when you’re high enough to function
It seems living was a substitute for dying, and screaming was a substitute for trying
So when life takes a lean and contentment turns to dream, maybe she can see the truth and stop lying
Her talk was cheap ‘cause supply exceeded demand, though she talked better walking on her hands
Losing sleep by the pillowcase wasn’t in the plans
While the willows chased the weeping, the cries kept her from sleeping
Gave every sand grain a name that graced the hourglass
Staring at a quill and stationary as the hours passed

[Chorus]
But life is what you make it so she made it a blast
Gave the answers first and asked the questions last
Gave every sand grain a name that graced the hourglass
Staring at a quill and stationary as the hours passed
But she didn’t write
Somebody tell me what’s going on
Yo, she didn’t write
It’s not like she can’t find a pen
Man, she didn’t write

[Verse 2]
I use index as utensil, time sands as canvas
Misplaced my pencil between the stage and the mattress
Each page of this act is singed ever so slightly
But I promise to learn to read if she promise to write me
I promise to learn to bleed if she promise to like me
But a caboose promoted to engine car is unlikely
If she refused, my b-plan was to skip town with my face for radio and voice for a penpal
Managed to hold myself in this asylum of boredom
Thoughts auctioned off a penny a piece but I can’t afford ‘em
On my back hangs a knapsack filled with shells and rocks that weighs down the progress of each trek to my mailbox
To find a sarcophagus guarded by cobwebs
No envelopes of inspiration there to feed my patience
As confused as an optimist screaming that god’s dead
Trying to grip sanity without going over the edge
Held a shell up to the ear that whispers read, “she didn’t write”
Skipped a rock across the lake, the ripples read, “she didn’t write”
So if she refused, my b-plan was to skip town
Now I’m headed to the writer’s block to sit down

[Chorus]
Life is what you make it so she made it a blast
Gave the answers first and asked the questions last
Gave every sand grain a name that graced the hourglass
Staring at a quill and stationary as the hours passed
But she didn’t write
Maybe there’s nothing left to say
Yo, she didn’t write
I’m better without her anyway
Man, she didn’t write

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