1. |
10 Paces
02:47
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i walked four K's today
and i never left my room
could have walked to
your place twice
but who am I to assume?
what's two years
between good friends
comfort I'll never feel again
I wasn't around
when you needed me
but i'll be there when it ends
and i'll never rest again
i fucked up
one single lapse of mind
would leave everything
i loved behind
4 days in a city i hate
and ive lost the thing
that makes home so great
my conscience is my pillow
but my bed's the concrete floor
and since I woke a week ago
I haven't smiled at all
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2. |
Cenno
05:43
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heres anotha rhyme about
the air up on hillstreet
the westside of hobart
the place where them chills meet
your skin with a bite and
your nose with a sting
i got no flows for those hoes
that don't feel a thing
and for those foes that don't know
im taking a swing to connect
with your nosebone for those
bros with no home and
no hope, no calls up
on their cellphones
they're so alone
when these degrees hit a new low
the nights freeze days keep
draggin on so slow
theres noone to lay with
and nowhere to go
and noone feels your pain
when you're dying up here so
you might as well be claiming
your last meal up on death row
but each day you remain
you're still doing your best so
it's lookin like you're gonna need
a new manifesto
but it's too hard to think
with a head full of cess tho
when you try to make escapes
from the place where you
rest low
the food starts to eat away
the coin that you saved
but you still gotta be eating
just to get through the day
forget booze
you're too poor until you get paid
and its a long long wait until it
comes to thursday
but it's old news
start to feel at home in the dole queue
its easier as you lose the ideals that uphold you
and the well wishes of the past loves that have held you
and you feel good knowing that they wound up in hell too,
but it cant last
cynicism wears at your heart fast
you think of how you once felt
back in the far past
and how you wouldn't end up a cunt
with a hard heart
and no hope, well haha
at least it's a good laugh
you old fucking cunts cant accept
that your times up
so you try to steal a place up in
my brain with a mindfuck
and try to tell me that i'm like you
just a smartarse
but unlike you i know this is life
not an art class
so fuck off,
try to talk to me like you're wise
like your years have taught you something
but you're just spinning lies
try to appeal to the kids
with your petty defiance
like anyone in their right mind
would call you an ally
you use the word punk like it somehow could still vibe
with your miserable life
but the way that you get by
could make a used car salesman break down and cry
i dont feel you
just hurry the fuck up and die
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3. |
Punk Jumps
04:31
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been a year since i left
and if anybody wondered
life did get a little better
stopped myself from going under
still dreaming still looking
to kill time in new ways
even when theres blunts to blaze
still try to see through the haze
still find time to appreciate
some certain cliches
like cold beer on hot days
warm sand and cool waves
learning bout the working standard
getting tired and getting paid
trying to find a middle ground
of gettin high or gettin laid
leavin home has left me humbled
but i havent lost my nerve
got a few months left to fumble
before i hit the real world
there are suckas left to serve
for all the buckshots left unheard
and im still tryin to believe
those fuckers get what they deserve
like this
cant resist
thinkin of friends that i miss
thinkin of folks back home
and weeknights out on the piss
thinkin of the things that coulda been
all the scabs on my wrist
up and down my arms and legs
that i just managed to resist
and i miss
havin love just a suburb away
having someone i could call
at any time on any day
no money no plans but a million ways
to kill time and undermine
this world that i hate
and though it probably was improbable
at the time we felt unstoppable
being together made it better
even when the times were horrible
SIDC to tuzz life
forever have been chronicled
imprinted on my skin
to remind of times less honourable
to remind me of the times
when hopelessness should have prevailed
but in the end I had my friends
and all the nihilism failed
to take hold, to remold
to try and strip us of our souls
leave us deaf dumb and broke
with our arms full of holes
times like that
reminiscing bout my friends way back
in turramurra and my brothers
still eluding the pack
still pingin still tripping
living crazy and free
and maybe sometimes even thinking
the same things about me
and i'll live
like you're beside me
and i never left home
even when the world
retires me and i'm dying alone
i'll carry you with me forever
and wherever i go
you make this shitty world better
making sure that you know
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4. |
CONES 2012
02:58
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dont i feel something
those mind games that you win
everything that you say
the nothings that i've been
and my heads hurting
coffee and nicotine
all the pain that you kill
relieve you
i will
cause peaceful sleep is a luxury
the layman cant afford
if i cant share her bedsheets
well i'd still take her floorboards
another month of wasted days
a fractured haze of sleepless nights
another year i'll need to blaze up
every day to feel alright
try to forget
everything you said to me
another years worth
of exhaled memories
inhale lungfuls of mental remedy
tie off and nod out to the melody
failure of a farmer
but i was born a pharmacist
and these needles they dig deeper
than the marks that paint your wrists
all those shows off affection
well they seem to serve you well
and while you need the attention
i just need a seroquel
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5. |
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i believe in needles cause people
never beat the feeling it equals
this nihilistic existence
makes me believe in
pure evil
id like to think a world
without it, isnt too idealistic
but i can understand why
people still deny its existence
the world is a mix, of sick-freaks
and twisted narcissistics
who make it their business
to invest in guns and ballistics
those who stand up,
to those, nominal pathologicals
must be aware and prepared
to catch one in the abdominal
abomidable, myths and monsters
from the subliminal are formidable
when our mental resistance is minimal
its pitiful
biological is soon to be digital
lyrical is profitable
and the masses are cynical
advertising is ruining
everything that is beautiful
thats predictable
within a world thats
goverened by criminals
people learn not to believe in
any biblical meaning
and their waiting for something else
to give them
some kind of reason
to justify breathing
cause even words im currently speaking
sound like every-other-motherfucker
preaching their elitism
but i want to believe
i believe in perfection,
i believe in drugs, guns, and deception
and again, i'd like to mention
that its just a reflection
of a mental state
riddled with stress,
death and with tension
a reaction
to forces normal people
dont like to mention
its not an invention
of-an-overactive imagination
your condescention only adds depth
to my alienation
and to any kids out there
in the same situation
where suicide seems-
like one long extended
fucking vacation
your trying to speed up
the process
by sending death
invitations
the holes you dig in your arms
offer you no consolation
and your waiting,
for any kind of new or deep revelation
and your patience is lacking
you thinkin about self immolation
your hearts racing
you feel as though your facing the nation
and your naked
and your wasted
eyes are thoroughly vacant
and you're delaying,
waiting, maybe praying for your salvation
and you're hoping its just a phase
despite the toll that it's taking
but you want to believe
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6. |
12 Steps Away
04:12
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hobart city air where the winters is fresh
see the dew up on your window
and the steam on your breath
heavy blankets on my bed
where i lay myself to rest
rollin one and then another
til the summer or my death
and my empty bed is lonely
everytime we're not together
which is really almost always
so i should find something better
to occupy my time or some thoughts
to fill my mind a good book to read
or good dope to mainline
but short of maybe just the latter
i found that nothing else matters
other girls just bore me
and make me feel even badder
my friendsll say im stupid
and maybe its even true
im sure ive thought of smarter things
than being in love with you
but i know its too late cuz ive already crossed
the line its just too hard to
get to sleep without your body
next to mine without your breath
on my neck or your hair
held close or when you wear
my shirt tomorrow when im busy
making toast but like i said
this talk is dangerous im not sayin anymore
people are scared of bein in love
because theyve all been hurt before
if thats the way to live
then im already fucking dead
just put me in my fucking coffin
with my heels over my head
cause fuck playin it cool
and always acting nochalant
cant be fucked with fucking sluts
if your the only one i want
so crucify me if you gotta
and get back on your way
cause i guess i fucking love you
and thats all there is to say
and i hope that we can cut the ties
that keep us coming back
but i cant even convince my friends
to shoot a cop instead of smack
cant even convince myself
to mark a wall instead of tracks
and i cant even convince my friends
to shed my weight up off their backs
cause at the end of a lonely day
i wouldnt mind some co dependence
sometimes this freedom that i found
feels like a lonely lifelong sentence
and tho there aint no higher ground
when theres nobody condescending
whats the point of bein alive
without a purpose or an ending
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