1. |
Writer's Block
01:07
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Scratch it out and try again.
I don't deserve this stupid pen.
I've written these words over fifteen times.
There's that voice inside my head,
"You won't amount to anything!"
I've gotten to know that sentiment so well
It's okay... I'm not freaking out, you're freaking out!
Don't think, just write shit down.
This incoherent mess.
I spill as I digress between my tangents,
and I guess I've lost my mind.
Try to get a thought-NO! I don't think so.
Watch my inner critic grow.
Scratch it out and try again.
I want to break this stupid pen!
I hear that voice inside my head.
I won't amount to anything.
I've written these words over twenty five times.
It's okay... I'm not freaking out, you're freaking out!
Don't think, just write shit...
I'm not okay! I think I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!
Don't think, just write shit down.
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2. |
Snowflake Wars
02:21
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As Triggers draw near, A manic frontier.
The graves we dug too deep to fill. The mountains made of this molehill are seen
From every horizon, as definitions widen.
There’ll be no resurrection from a vile imperfection. Tell me now
Who is offended? who is offended?
Let your wounds be mended. No need to apprehend those
Fiends who spit foul words. Shallow attempts to sting your nerves.
It’s a mistake to give it weight, yet we act up and don’t straight.
Painting your kettle cold and clear.
Shallow pointed words make you sound insincere,
And your convictions show when your walls start to bow.
Say it’s enough, or your cubby hole will crack and fall flat under your bluff.
As triggers draw blood, they await your rebut.
Intentions not to win, but just to stir conflict again, so tell me now,
Who is offended? Have them apprehended,
Taking full advantage of echo chambers built backhanded.
Images produced by Ereset. Labor of ego induced and thinly spread.
Paint your kettle cold and clear. Your words so insincere.
Convictions start to show, as your walls start to bow.
Say it’s enough, say it’s enough,
Or when you can’t attack, you will crack, and fall flat under your...
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3. |
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Hard pass on mom and pop to walk through sliding double doors.
Oppression lines the shelves, as big box dollars break the scale it’s not alright
Another one closed down today. "Free Market" "Democracy".
Buzz words allow monopoly, and lay way to bankruptcy (you'll see)
How can you compete when to the other guy cheats?
Generations look for work, as options become few and far
Between these bogus fucking cogs, just multitudes of useless tools
This is no grand prediction, just simple observation
I'm breaking my back to relate to "playing fair" not "legislate"
While I search for sympathy, Hugo Bosses piss on me
And how can we compete when the hand that feeds overeats
Clearance racks filled with garbage made with tortured hands, worked into early graves
Bottom bucks brought by slavery from foreign lands, just to throw it away
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4. |
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When I get back home, I’ll post a status from my phone
About worker exploitation, on my device made from children.
If I could confront myself, I’d see I’m not doing much to help at all.
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5. |
The Lanes
02:03
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When I'm out of my elements. when the winds of change and consequence
Force me to rear my ugly head and say (I've had enough, I've had enough)
When I try to vent it vent out, but the burn of the cold cuts through my mouth
Then I know that I don't know a thing of letting come what may
So I define the growing pains of facing self-deprecation
unchecked and enabled by my fears and frustrations
If this message is true, I'm not strong enough
To carry these bags, I made mistakes (but I believed in myself). I believed in myself
No lessons to learn, stay in your lane (do you believe in yourself). You shouldn't believe in yourself
(And let them win? Fuck that! Let them in!)
I don't need my elements. Let the world put its weight on my chest,
And I'll find a way to breathe, you can't make an example of me
I know the growing pains of self-deprecation
but they give way to sheer determination
Let this message be known, you can't keep me
I'll carry these scars, I've made mistakes (but I believe in myself). I believe in myself
No one can take these bags away ('cause I believe in myself). I believe in myself
The lanes painted black and white fade to grey ('cause I believe in myself). I still believe,
And they can't take that from me
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6. |
Who Is Molly?
03:25
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I have seen good cognisance and common sense
Dethroned, cut and pressed with bad intent
Can you see the logic through my ignorance?
I’m coughing up the fingers in my mouth
Praying it won’t go south
But the world would drown me out
Time Slows Down
I’m three thousand miles away, and more than two hours ahead
Of the clock inside your head
Stir crazy and dormant, studying the informant.
I hope it’s not too late
And that you don’t find yourself wrinkled into place in this state
Time slows down
Waiting for good words, and something to confirm
Can I expect you soon to come back down to earth?
Cause If we lost you, it wouldn’t be the first.
Excuse me for acting so concerned!
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Shrug Dealer New York, New York
Loud, fast, melodic NYC punk/hardcore band.
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