Trae Sings
I stare at the white paper.
Eyes appear first.
Than faces.
Than if I look close enough, bodies.
They let me trace them sometimes.
And I am grateful.
Shhhh!
This is the way truth is.
You've got to let those strange hands
touch you.
Trae Sings
I stare at the white paper.
Eyes appear first.
Than faces.
Than if I look close enough, bodies.
They let me trace them sometimes.
And I am grateful.
Shhhh!
This is the way truth is.
You've got to let those strange hands
touch you.