1. |
Alcohol Is Synonymous
01:49
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Summer doesn't mean a fucking thing a 6am
Just swearing off vices and shrugging of regrets
Everyday I make a promise that I'll soon be back in bed
Scrape the sleep from my eyes and facilitate these ends
Time is lynched, leached and burned
These eyes are fixed and they yearn
For the clock to turn
A Stones throw away from another repercussion
Some reprieve printed on a payslip
Collect these checks, throw them in that empty ocean
I'm treading shallow but I'm still out of my depth
But the shot glasses are empty, control is at bay
One to five are history and on the sixth day
We'll wake up shaking with our mouths cracked and dry
Heads fucking pounding our eyes fixed on the sky
What are we going to do? Do with all this time?
I'm not going to waste it worrying myself blind 'cause:
I'm going back, I'm going back
Back to the city tonight
And its hard not to regret all that squandered time
Spent locking everything on the inside
It's been three years since I started to hide
But I'm going back to the city tonight.
Tonight.
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2. |
Bitter Concessions
02:46
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The last drink of the weekend just burns in my chest
no relief, just defeat no modicum of rest
And all the promises I made myself amount to nothing at best
and my excuses aren't all that hard to guess
All these limits have been self imposed
I'm tired of feeling sick everytime that I'm alone
turns out that that cliche doesn't just itch
it fuckin burns under my skin tears and rips
everything I thought I'd be into tiny shreds
overcompensating for overzealous first steps
for this constant lack of self confidence
yeah I'm just so fucking sick of feeling this worthless
So I'll burn my bridges celebrate my decisions
I could learn a valid lesson drinking down bitter concessions
I could dwell in distress or foster this sadness
I could be alone and be afraid or I could learn to live with my mistakes
The last drink of the weekend just burns in my chest
no relief, just defeat no modicum of rest
And all the promises I made myself amount to nothing at best
and my excuses aren't all that hard to guess
I'm fucking done with this underlying stress
I know deep down that I'm better than this
So I'll burn my bridges celebrate my decisions
I could learn a valid lesson drinking down bitter concessions
I could dwell in distress or foster this sadness
I could be alone and be afraid or I could learn to live with my mistakes
I could learn to live with my mistakes
Learn from your mistakes
don't be concerned, don't be afraid
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3. |
FUCK30
02:03
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"Lines of coke from the ass of some dead prostitute"
His heart is still beating but the soul is destitute
Of the life, of the solution
of the search for resolution
Of what the revolution started out to be
Before production lines
And those capitalist lies
After the cries for help
And the smiles of wealth
Before they took what's dearest to me
It's time to leave this fucking country.
It's time to leave this fucking country.
How could I ever explain?
...to you?
The wealthy bastards that leave us in pain
It's such a shame
Ya gotta read
Gotta fight
Pull the trigger, ignite
Throw yourself at the change
Make some enemies, fuck your taste
You've gotta fight for your place on the stage
You've gotta fight for your place on the stage
"Hate is your own home grown death wish
If you want my explicit position
It's unremarkable to succumb
If we don't fight it we become
All the things we never wanted to be
And can you defend your mistakes?
Can you define your own place, or d'ya gotta fake?"
"You fucking waste of space!
Pull it together, you're a human in line
Just get there for nine
And sure you'll do fine
fuck your plans, you got mine"
I get that it's a fucking mess
But that shit's utopian at best
(And I'm not impressed)
No we're not fucking impressed...
We're not fucking impressed!
Ya gotta read
Gotta fight
Pull the trigger, ignite
Throw yourself at the change
Make some enemies, fuck your taste
You've gotta fight for your place on the stage
You've gotta fight for your place on the stage
You've gotta fight for your place
Don't let me rain on your parade
Yov've gotta fight for your place on the stage
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4. |
Every Loose End
03:14
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Well I hate this fucking town and every ghost that walks these streets
That haunt when June rolls around and dredges up every memory
Yeah it can gentrify with its cafes, punk rock bars and its boutiques
But it can't ever wash away the dirt that resides underneath
So throw it all on the fire. All that went unsaid
We've got everything we need to put this one to rest
There's so much to forget. So sever every thread
To the phantoms that we dread: The ones that keep us fucking writhing in our heads
Yeah we'll drown those spectres in whiskey again
And the shit that keeps me down, I set it all ablaze
But it just gets caught up in my lungs and undermines what I say
I tried to snuff it out, in the traditional way:
'How I Spent My Summer Vacation' and 4 pint cans on the train.
Cuz I hate this fucking town and every memory
That just wont let me be
This Anxiety. All that went unsaid
We've got everything we need to put this one to rest
There's so much to forget. So sever every thread
To the phantoms that we dread: The ones that keep us fucking writhing in our heads
We'll drown that spectre in whiskey again...
Yeah we'll get burned then dive right back in again.
And I found consolation canned in the Lawson stores
And I found my salvation in eyes I'd seen before
So I'll sever every thread. They're all frayed inside my head.
Tie off those loose ends. Forgive and Forget. Yeah, lay this one to rest.
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