Still Nothing

Still Nothing
By James Pullen

Lyrics
...
(spoken word)
this is Pullenboy Music
you know they make it look like singers have everything but that's bullshit,
I have over three Hundred Songs And Still ain't got a damn thing...

**Verse 1**
They flash those smiles on the screens so bright,
Private jets and parties every night.
Crowds screaming names, champagne flows free,
Friends in the spotlight, laughing endlessly.
They make it look easy, like the world's at their feet,
Money and love just falling complete.
But that's all smoke, mirrors, and edited lies—
A load of bullshit in a perfect disguise.

**Chorus**
I started singing, thought it'd set me free,
But it took everything away from me.
No friends left standing, no woman in sight,
Can't even get a hello in the dead of night.
Over three hundred songs, poured out my soul,
Published and streaming, but it don't make me whole.
Still broke as hell, more alone than before—
I hate this voice, hate what it's done to my core.

**Verse 2**
Back when I started, I had people around,
Laughs in the kitchen, feet on the ground.
Picked up the guitar, let the words start to bleed,
Dreamed of the stages, thought that's what I'd need.
But the more I sang, the further they ran,
Ghosted my calls, like I wasn't the same man.
Now it's just me and these empty walls,
Echoes of melodies, no one to call.

**Chorus**
I started singing, thought it'd set me free,
But it took everything away from me.
No friends left standing, no woman in sight,
Can't even get a hello in the dead of night.
Over three hundred songs, poured out my soul,
Published and streaming, but it don't make me whole.
Still broke as hell, more alone than before—
I hate this voice, hate what it's done to my core.

**Bridge**
Wish I'd never started, never picked up that pen,
Never let the music drag me down again.
But it's in my blood now, can't walk away,
Trapped in the rhythm, day after day.
Too damn late to stop, too deep in the fight,
Singing these blues into the endless night.

**Final Chorus (slower, fading)**
Yeah, I hate singing... hate this damn life...
Three hundred songs... and still nothing but strife...
Wish I never started... but it's too late now...
Too damn late...