Songtext zu 'Fruiting Bodies (feat. Gumi English)' von Riproducer

Oh, lately I’ve been awaking at night
Out of breath and feeling scared
I think I must be under attack
But nothing’s ever there

Oh, I try to be the best version of me
So I push all the bad thoughts away
But, something snaps in the back of my mind
And I think about it anyway

My mind’s eye is defined by contrariety
I just wanna itch and scratch
(I just wanna itch and scratch)
People say I am not the one I claim to be
Won’t you tell me what you think of that?
(Won’t you tell me what you think of that?)

A little fruiting body buds under my skin
A trauma to the system’s all it needs to begin
No, don’t come any closer! It’s a trick-trick-trick
And it terrifies me more than I intend to admit

Left discarded and forgotten right under your nose
Oh, how did we end up in here? Nobody knows!
My rotting body is the perfect fit-fit-fit
Unbeknownst to anybody, the mycelium grows

Picture me, unable to sleep
Not a sound rings out in the house
The voices tell me something
Is hiding underneath the ground

I repress my fright
And I cover my eyes and surrender myself to my fate
The ones like me weren’t built to last
I'm not leaving it up for debate

Something’s wrong with the form of my identity
Suddenly, I'm coming to
(Suddenly, I'm coming to)
I am not in the body that was meant for me
Tell me what I am supposed to do
(Tell me what I am supposed to do)

Another fruiting body sprouts out of my skin
A tiny opportunity planted within
Now, look away I'm gonna be sick-sick-sick
I'm not one to cry, but I have been unable to since

They’re coming after me
I can’t run away
They hear me screaming in fear
They think it’s hilarious
We’re coming after you
You can’t run away
We hear you screaming in fear
Isn’t it hilarious?

I don’t know how my mind acquired these memories
Tell me what it all entails
(Tell me what it all entails)
Now I wish I had guarded my naivety
I have shed the universal veil
(I have shed the universal veil)

A hundred fruiting bodies burst out of my skin
The countless amanitas are doing me in
You’re allowed to take me out if you so wish-wish-wish
No such thing as second chances
It’s a hit or a miss!

And a thousand fruiting bodies are spreading their pores
It’s impossible to tell which ones are real anymore
My organs and the colony will mix-mix-mix
Now my body is the keeper of the roots in my core