1. |
Ghost Town
03:21
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Praying for rain to come
Wash this weight from my shoulders
These sleepless nights are getting colder.
Laying awake, lying in wait
For this sickness to take its shape.
The same old current that drags me out
Is dragging me down.
This space in my chest is an empty nest.
My head is a ghost town.
Stuck in this cycle
Of feeling something but finding nothing.
Stuck in this cycle
Of feeling something but finding nothing.
This is a sickness
Born out of sadness,
And apathy and idle hands.
This is a lack we learn to love.
This is the demon that we're dying of.
I prayed for rain, I found a flood.
Come drown this out, cut this out of me.
Tear this hurt from its host, cut this out of me.
Come drown this out, cut this out of me.
Tear this hurt from its host, cut this out of me.
We are bound to break this surface,
Or sink beneath these burdens.
We are worth more than our misery would have us believe.
We have been decieved.
Get back up.
Our hope is found in the flood.
Get back up.
Our hope is found in the flood.
I made a promise that I would stop running from myself,
But these ghosts just keep cracking the whip.
We owe it to ourselves to try and put our fears to rest.
We live in a bad dream, but that's all that it is,
And we can awake.
Keep praying for rain.
Keep praying.
All I can offer are my own stories of let-down and love lost
In hopes that you stumble on,
Get up and overcome.
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2. |
Hex
03:44
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Burn the mind, bury the body.
I am a wayward son,
So I will carry on.
Distrust is in my veins.
It helps me lose my way.
Get up, keep digging.
Push on, keep swinging.
if you're there, listening
Reach down into my lungs,
Pull this out of me.
I know your hate, because it's just like mine.
It lives, it breathes, it rots inside our minds.
I've spent my whole life trying to spit it out
Before I die, buried in my own doubt.
Wandering in aimlessness
With these cigarette burns on the back of my conscience.
I lean too much on my own understanding.
I'm always falling. I'm always falling.
I know I need the answer,
But I know it's a knowledge you can't teach.
So when I dig inside myself for the truth
I fear I've left it out of reach.
So hang my body high,
And let the rest of me swing low,
Because this doubt kills more of me
Than my failure will ever know.
So carry on my wayward son.
Push on, keep digging.
There must be more to aimless life
Than aimless living.
And though my doubt stares back at me,
Someday I hope I'll watch it leave.
I hope to watch these words cave in.
I hope you're listening to me.
Can you hear me?
Are you listening?
Reset, we search.
Rewind, we find ourselves.
Reset, we search,
Rewind, we find ourselves.
Reset, keep digging.
Rewind, keep swinging.
If you're there, listening,
Reach down into my lungs, pull this out of me.
This love will run out.
Pull this out of me.
This love will run out.
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True North Wellington, New Zealand
True North / Wellington City / Melodic Hardcore / MMXIII
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