PuKe King - Professional Behaviour [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Intro]
Um so, Thomas. You say you want to be a professional musician, producer, whatever. Uh, we were kinda thinking, over here, that uh you should maybe not uh. We need to broaden your fan-base basically. If you could uh, not write so many songs about half-blind Scottish teenagers who are, you know, just very despondent to the way the world works then uh. I feel like you could maybe, I dunno sell some songs, you know make a living, buy a house, buy a car, you know? I don't, what do you think? Thomas? Are you even there? Fuck this kid

[Verse]
My vision is the weight that I carry on my chest
My memories are time that I felt I could invest
Into life, without losing speed or momentum
I treasure every memory but doubt that I deserve them
Convoluted conscience got me questioning my worth, while
Folk who prosper often barely share their hurt smiles
Nothing but rainbows for those who bare their souls none
Their conscience is not on, I wonder if they own one
I wonder if possessed is a chest full of burdens
Of nights left alone, their sorrow simply burning
The flame full of blame, regrets and their past friends
I'm not trying to kill the buzz just wonder if they have them
Nights, where death is the option that seems easiest
Where music isn't working and movies aren't pleasing them
Where art is too modern, all the classics butchered
Where light only flickers and indifference is the future

[Hook]
Well I've been up, oh I've been down
Oh, I've been down under the ground
It took a death, it took a year
But now I'm here, yeah now I'm here
Go away? Nah I think I'll stay
Another day at least
I'm back for keeps, I'm back for people
Who've always believed in me
(sorry)

[Verse]
The words I found profound now dumbfound, they're just sound
They are hollow in the bodies of the text I'm surrounded by
I rebound through this house, the one that wasn't home yet
I wish for lips or hips, that justify this home's wreck
But alas I am a weakling linking weeks with my weariness
The glottal stop I am, just skip me when you're speaking this
I'm serious, but do not take me so, or hearing this
Is not the worst mistake that you've made, it's near to it
Period, this common comma splice slices through my life
Til I'm enticed by things that take away my sight
Hard liquor on my palate and I paint with rusty knife
Grotesque self-portrait, I'm self-centred, I am like
A million words are worthless if you don't know your name well
A million hands are worthless if you don't know your brain well
A million minds all think alike without a single brain cell
A million names in one song makes folk know your name well

[Bridge]
Yeah (repeated)

[Verse]
I'm nothing but Thomas but Thomas is nothing
I promise I'm honest and gone is the bluffing
Gone is the stuffing my head in an oven
I'm done with this life, I'm done with the "fuck it"s
I'm done with the fuck ups I'm done with the "sorry"s
I'm done with the stuck ups, I'm done with the worries
I'm me. And that's all I can achieve
I'm me, and that's all the facts I need
So take me to the mountain, I wanna feel a peak again
Or take me to my field man, I wanna see my friend
I wanna ride the bus til the last stop it ever makes
I wanna fill a million minds, I wanna die a million ways
I wanna fly man, I feel I should make sense first
And not become conceited after every fucking dense verse
I wanna write a song that the radio might play soon
I wanna be successful, I think that I'm afraid to