1. |
Blood Money
03:17
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Live a life lying to yourself, it’s blood money. A life spent restlessly sleeping with the enemy. ‘Keep your mouth shut, toe the party line’. Keep your guard up don’t let them take your mind. They’ll never afford what you’re really worth, so they’ll pay you with six feet of dirt. Get it through your fucking head, to them you are the walking dead.
Sell yourself off day by day, for what? Blood money. What they take they won’t repay. Blood money. Don’t believe the lies, nothing’s changed. Blood money. Work into the grave, you’re a slave to blood money.
On the day you don’t wake up, they won’t even give a fuck, just cross you off an endless list and forget the fact you used to exist. To them you’re a unit a resource a pawn, they don’t know your name and won’t notice you’ve gone. Get it through your fucking head, to them you are the walking dead.
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2. |
Failure
01:53
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Friends. I’m sorry. I’ve let you down again. Know it happens time to time, I lose my fucking mind. But if there is a God, then my only thanks to him will be for you.
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3. |
Its Just a Ride
01:42
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How will you learn to fly, if you never leave the nest? Time is passing us by, so we don’t give a fuck for regrets. Make up for old mistakes. Seize the day! Live your live in black and white, don’t ever fade to grey. And remember that it’s just a ride. It’s just a ride, anyway.
It’s just a ride. Get up and go, you’ve got to make it on your own because nothing lasts forever and we all die alone. So what’s the point of living life in regret, go out and make your ride the best.
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4. |
Old wounds
00:41
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These old wounds never heal, these bridges never burn. The writing on the wall always fades away so my lessons are never learned but there’s cold blood in old wounds, and nothing but dead air in my lungs, I’ve got nothing to say to you.
Yet I’ve had a phrase in my head for days, I’ve gritted my teeth as I carried the weight of this torch I wish wouldn’t blaze; this is the burden of holding onto old flames. See I just can’t decide if I can live with being loveless. I know there must be more to find, but sometimes I wish I felt nothing.
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5. |
No truce
01:59
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Your loose lips sink your own ships. Your open door to your room is your own trap that you set down. And I wish I could keep calm and carry on, but this is war. I wrote a confession for you. Sign it, I’ll post it round town and we’ll all learn that you’re a let down.
Poets, authors, either I misunderstood or you’re all fucking liars. Mother, father, you raised a survivor. Sister. Brother. Stay away from love. You want a truce. You want it right now. But I’ve got the truth, now let me speak this out loud; You want a truce? This social circle’s your fucking noose. And I used to think you could have made me proud.
Now you’ve made your own bed, and we all know where you’ve been lying. All you do is lie. Stop. Because I’ve made a language out of silence, I’ve made a living out of playing dumb. Every girl wants their song well here’s yours; you used to call me brother, now you’re dead to me, and we’re done.
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6. |
Untitled
01:47
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Sleep’s for the weak and I’m an insomniac, but I’m paranoid about panic attacks. Guess I’m shit out of luck, stuck in this rut, but it’s too late for turning back. It’s too late for turning back.
It’s not that I don’t know who I am anymore, what gets me is the fact I don’t care. But when nothing I do is good enough for you, the point of this becomes less clear. I’m sick of all the rumours and games, the in crowd never seemed so lame. I can’t stand the stress, and fuck the peer pressure but I’m not going home again.
And I can write all I want on this blank page, when I put the pen down, nothing will change. Am I stuck with who I am, Am I stuck this way? I can write all I want on this blank page, when I put the pen down, nothing’s changed. I won’t be stuck with who I am. I won’t be stuck this way.
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7. |
Gutter Bound
03:10
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Hello square one my oldest friend, I hoped I’d never see you again, I’m sick and tired of these dead ends, and how they feel like home. Because lately I’ve been hanging out with the patron saint of the gutter bound, we’ve all lost weekends we don’t want found but mine won’t leave me alone.
When the sun goes down, we build a ghost town, but I guess that’s how we roll.
And this heart of mine has been compromised by the thrill of going out and taking whatever I can find. But you’re not her, and she’s not here. You’re a mistake that I made. I need you to disappear.
I guess that’s how I roll now. In this ghost town, I guess that’s how it goes. At war with myself, no concern for my mental health, I am out of control.
I’ve gone too far off the rails tonight. I’ve paid the price for a real good time. I can’t quit it. I’ve tried. Pay me no mind. I’ll be fine.
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