Freespace Mixtape Vol. 1

by Vincy & the Prototyke Lab

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1.
04:45
2.

credits

released September 9, 2017

Producer - Kung Chi Shing, Michelle Rocha

Recorded at Studio M3Js, Avon Recording Studios, AYM Studio

Engineer - Anthony Yeung
Recording Engineer - Na-san@Studio M3Js, Ming Lee@Avon Recording Studios, Jacklam Ho@AYM Studio
Mixing and Mastering - Anthony Yeung

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Vincy Chan Minneapolis, Minnesota

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Track Name: Same Words
They say I don’t belong
I have got no words to prove that they’re wrong
The songbirds here don’t hum
The ancient tunes of ruin lands where I’m from

The grass will always be a different shade of green
Not better nor worse just different
Like the god we used to pray to in the darkest night
No matter who he is, as long he’d shed some light

I’ve been muttering the same words, I’m sorry
I’ve been muttering the same words could you hear me
With no love to my name only tears of shame
Choking back the words I could have used to speak with, clearly
I’ve been muttering the same words but
Would you listen to my pleas

My tongue is split between
The spices and the dust from the cities where I’ve been
My lungs are filled with air
Dirty or clean no one cares if I’m still breathing

The air will always be a different density
Not friendly nor hostile just different
Like the food we used to lay out on our table
As long as we’re together, we’ll call our lives stable
Track Name: Flesh and Bones
Fishnet thighs
Drifting in the sky of stale gray
High as a kite
Strung by dirty lingerie

Blanket fort
Makeshift bed on hardwood floors
The bright stage lights
That curtain life she can’t afford

A little higher, lift her up a little higher
A little tighter, pull her corset a little tighter

Her skin’s hanging onto thin straps trapping dollar bills of quick cash
Mad dash for the fat stash
(She’s on the fast track)
Unheated home, rehearsing monologues alone
Latin honor on the corner wall but
Flesh and bones, they will pay her loans

Lashes glued
Heels on but nothing from her usuals
Prada suits
Would any of these men buy a twenty-dollar lap dance

Smokey club
Lime on tequila, bottoms up
She can’t buy love but
All she wants is some gas station donuts

Glasses cleared
Her private education
They admire
This conversation
A little tired
This situation
A little dire

Her skin’s hanging onto thin straps trapping dollar bills of quick cash
Mad dash for the fat stash
(She’s on the fast track)
Unheated home, rehearsing monologues alone
Latin honor on the corner wall but
Flesh and bones, they will pay her loans

Her skin’s hanging onto thin straps trapping dollar bills of quick cash
Mad dash for the fat stash
(She’s on the fast track)
Hunting zone, navigating dark nights on her own
On her crack-screen phone
Go and take the first train home