T U R N T H I S U P
Low Life -
Something inside has got to give. I gave up on you. Chained up, locked down. Our fears, they swallow us whole, and our "faith" shits deep in our souls. I can't keep walking on this path to disappointment. These days I'm just wasting my time on money, friends, and love. And the needle digs into... And the poison floods my veins. Melting my brain. Low Livin.
These Colors Don't Run, They Bleed. -
They say that these colors don't run. They bleed. Your colors only bleed into the others.
Virgin Whore -
Burning all of my ties. Wishing, and hoping that I could just die. Pointed at my face is a smoking gun, curling my knuckles and biting my fucking tongue. Burning all of your lies. Wishing, and hoping that you would just die. I can't keep submitting. I can't keep living. Nothing can quench my thirst for the blood of a Virgin Whore.
buy the split cassette
drink whiskey
repeat.
-R
No comments:
Post a Comment