1. |
For You
02:02
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|
Its not the substance, but the stigma
that keeps you coming back.
Sometimes I wish there was
bait on this hook for me.
Always left alone in the lake,
I'll swim forever, and never
find the right place for me.
Sometimes I don't know who my friends are,
I don't know where to belong.
I'd throw myself off the edge,
if it meant that the marching band would arrive
with their instruments, to serenade those who've tried
with a swan song as I leave.
I'd applaud the gospel choir
if their words spoke to me,
I don't trust in god because he doesn't
trust in me.
I'll come back as a single grain of sand
as insignificant as I feel,
and maybe then it would seem more appropriate
for the world to walk all over me.
I've seen desserts bloom.
I've seen the skin peel from your crooked bones.
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2. |
Statuesque
03:15
|
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|
I could be just another fucked up kid
who hates the world as much as it hates him,
but there's these things I owe
to myself
that just keep stacking up
and I'm fucking falling back down.
Just another bleak existence
hanging from this earth
belonging somewhere between
getting out of bed
and going back again.
every shard of broken promises
that I keep making to myself
they're cutting me deeper every time.
My hood is up
its not raining.
We've held our heads too high,
expected too much from this life.
And I wont let the weight of the world
keep me down.
No more broken promises
no more, no more.
No more broken promises
no more fucking debts.
I've seen heartless
and I've seen cowardice,
and I'm worse off because of it.
I've seen perfect
and I've seen golden,
I've never felt so fucking small.
So compare me to a perfect,
statuesque kid
he owes it to his parents,
they made him who he is
his friends and his mentors
only show him love,
one day maybe, I might be this good
but what I've discovered in my thoughts
under my hood
In a world
overrun
by perfection
there's no room for fucking up.
|
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3. |
Hopeful
03:23
|
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|
False Gods rain from the sky
as hopeless cities collapse beneath
a tied of arms reach out to grab us
and drag us into an ocean of the bereaved,
the tempest turns
tides of reality wash over shores of belief
and all your progress and your possessions
get washed out to sea.
Nobody knew that the road ahead
lead to little more than a lonely grave
and all the heavens that we had dreamed of
would always be a nights sleep away.
God was in your mind
and God was in your dreams
but never in reality
and your faith was never where it needed to be.
So, pave this path
bridge the gap
walk the cracks
don't watch life fade away.
There is nothing waiting for us in the end
all that's left for us is time
and you can't let that slip away,
don't let it slip away this time.
Every second becomes a memory
you can't let it slip away
everything loved becomes a memory
don't let it slip away this time.
There's not a single border
that our compasses can't find
there's not a single dark memory
that our pasts wont leave behind
and when this ice crumbles
we will stand on air
until the future unfolds
we will be waiting here.
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4. |
Distances I
03:44
|
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|
This city, sinks away
these streets flood with colours
then fade to grey.
Blinded by the distance
we can't find our way,
caged by the distance
we are the future plague.
We are the future plague,
we are set in stone.
We are the future plague,
we are set in stone.
All our demons paint pictures of perfection,
hang them over crooked walls
plot maps, burn them
never to unfold.
This city, sinks awaythese streets flood with colours
then fade to grey.
Blinded by the distance
we can't find our way,
caged by the distance
we are the future plague.
We are the future plague,
we are set in stone.
We are the future plague,
we are set in stone.
(Too late)
You let broken hands keep the time
(too late)
you let broken hands keep the time and now your just a second too late
(too late)
|
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5. |
Distances II
03:43
|
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|
Fuck this town,
this curse,
this world.
With december staring straight in my face,
I can see my past and future on this one page.
With december staring straight at your face,
don't leave your past and future on this one fucking page.
It's never too fucking late.
|
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DEBTS Barnsley, UK
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