Story Behind The Song
His Demons was created because I find myself being inspired by the simplest things when writing and creating art, especially with the violence in Chicago. From the distinct smell of a gas station in the wintertime to the blaring vibrations coming from various cars in the middle of the summer. I feel writing poetry is one of the many ways it helped me express myself. I like to think of myself as a very soft-spoken person at times, especially when meeting new people. Other times, I am the type to wear my heart on my sleeve.
Poetry is a part of me. With each poem that I write, a piece of my day-to-day experiences is written down and recorded for others to partake in. Like many, I get inspired by other artists, visuals, and poets. It may vary from my thoughts on politics and society, down to finding the beauty in a world filled with violence and destruction. I tend to see sayings, quotes, and images that go together in some creative way which "His Demons" was born.
Song Description
This Spoken word Poetry song is depicts life from the eyes of A 26-year-old artist from the South Side of Chicago Illinois, named Charles "Honey Padre" Honeywood. It connects immediately with audiences, drawing from real life day to day situations seen just in living life and being inspired from many different positive and negative influences.
| Song Length |
3:16 |
Genre |
Spoken Word - Poetry, Spoken Word - Poetry |
| Tempo |
Other |
Lead Vocal |
Duet Male/Female |
| Mood |
Gloomy, Aggressive |
Subject |
Peace, Violence |
| Similar Artists |
Black Ice, DANEZ SMITH, MALCOLM LONDON, Mahogany B |
Language |
English |
| Era |
2000 and later |
| |
Lyrics
If I told you about a guy who didn't ever need a reason,
To take a life overnight just to cope with "His Demons"
Posted up on the block about a block from Artsiean,
Packing heat like the winter cause the homie never freezing,
Everyday is a fight for his rights and his freedoms,
He wanna leave but he can't cause he know his niggas need em,
Not a fan of his pops cause the niggas always leaving,
And if worse to come to worse he gone leave his momma grieving,
Homie's not a punk but it's obvious how, he in fear of the here and now,
So take a bow,
You the reason why he wont wake up, in the middle of the night as the shots ring out while his soul takes place where everything is alright.
**Spoken Word/Poetry**
They say God will give no man more than he can bare,
And that he works in mysterious ways,
You See, He comes from a place where his demons visit him on the regular,
Whether violent or secular,
At a moments notice, a trigger happy heathen, is the reason, he's no longer breathing,
If you let the media paint that picture,
His roads have never been paved unless ones straight to his grave,
And The captivity of negativity that consumes him is deeply rooted within
The same lies that were told to him, he's now preaching to them,
He was told his futures bright
But now the lights gotten quite dim,
Long nights and short days,
New whips but the same slaves,
I'm not the greatest at spelling, but I was taught that,
You can't spell community without unity
And quite frankly, that still stands true till this day,
Never the less, he needs more
A product of his environment
Rich in the world but spiritually he's poor,
It's like his demons need him,
And he needs them to survive,
Physically and mentally deprived,
The lack of love teaches him that everyone's a snake in disguise,
It's time for us to open our eyes and realize that we can't do this without one another.
Put the Guns down Chicago