Rhys Langston - Re: gret [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

Shoulda, woulda, wouldn’t
No stanzas for rebuttal
Re-upped by the rudders
Same wind, last shuttle
Filled the trench with butter
Port and anchored on the other coast
Toasted to the crew mates
Before they could begin the roast

Fuck it
Needed no musket
White sands
Had a brew from the same colored plains
At hand
Carved wood drifted toward the horizon
Hut unassembled
Maroon dreams
’til this turn reversed Milton’s pencils

Man is not, but the chest is an island
Regret nothing immediate
Lost paradise, bad gas mileage
Words filter siphoned
Station played the greatest hits
A Pizarro of reception
Dialed two letters
Gave bottle a kiss

Ocean lain, return address:
Of owning up
The precipice
Shit

The currents let the list float
Loaded, epistle, trip
Until it was spelled as this:

My life was always planned around my skin tone
Mistaking mirrors for a portal into others’ vision
Maltreatment of supporting cast members
Nuclear family fission
“I” is embarrassing to me
Talking to women without rhythm
Not to mention
My repair skill is disproportionate to my charisma points
Roll snake eyed
Fit to disappoint
Dialogue was never the strong suit
Couldn’t bench press bars even wife-beater sweats minute
Truth
Took credit for too many blunders
(ha) that I should have
Undercover loser, paper husks prevent the relapse
And still the broken synapses’
Regret cosigns forget
The meetings with past selves
In futures
For making bets