1. |
Fisticuffs
02:48
|
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|
No one makes it out
Unscarred, safe and sound
Youth of yesterday bled out
Lost and faded,
down But never out
our days so long
as our years fade
Future? What future?
our only way out
We Teach our kids to fight
On the block
We are home
We keep us safe
We protect our own
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2. |
Three Day Weekend
01:33
|
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|
I Work hard every day
Like a rat trapped
In a maze
in an office
Behind the grill
By 5 O’clock
I’m so tired
Every three day weekend
Fash come around
Crawling like roaches
In the shadows
Propaganda up
On the block
Stickers up
Must come down
On my day off
In the sun
It’s so hot
I’m so tired
Razors out
Out on the prowl
What goes up
Must come down
Three day weekend
|
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3. |
We're Gonna Make It Home
02:52
|
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|
I’m gonna stand right next to you
I’ve been through what you’re going through
You do what you have to do
But you know I’m going too
Ch:
They try to break us, fake us, make us
They try to take us down
They try to bruise us, cruise us, use us
They try to snatch the crown
Gonna peel you up off the floor
You’ve done the same for me and more
Never gonna let you go (no no)
At least not on your own
We're Gonna Make it Home
|
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4. |
Read the Room
02:21
|
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|
I’ve seen a lot of shit from you but this is a new low
You’re such a pain in my ass and you don’t even seem to know
Always asking of questions and the answer’s always no
What do I have to do to make you pack your shit and go
Read the room
It ain’t about you
Are you here to do the work or be the star of the show?
Are you here to do the work or stroke your own ego?
Are you here to do the work or push an agenda of your own?
Are you here to do the work or chase clout into a hole?
You shout the loudest with the least to say
when it’s time to listen your voice is deafening
Acting like a child, can’t emotionally regulate
Now we pay the price when you don’t get your way
|
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5. |
Gritted Teeth
04:11
|
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|
Enough of gentrification
Progress and the high cost
Our dreams priced out
Gutted and gone to rot
Enough of anxious dawns
Spent restless in homes
Crumbling down that we’ll never own
Troubled sleep and waiting
For the bombs to drop
Hiding behind locked doors
Watching for cops
As they make the prowl
Up and down
The hallowed streets
Hallowed streets of our town
Enough of gritted teeth
Our Saplings cut down
To sell the rings
Our Branches bent By the breeze
Until we grow
Just like the weeds
That push their way
Through the cracks in the concrete
Enough of drinking alone
To kill our pain
suicide and overdose to cure hope
A brittle yellow death
That we trade for rest
Greeting the end
Of every long shift spent
Blurry mornings and wondering
Where the good years went
Staggered beneath
the Crushing weight of our debt
Always wondering when
One of our friends
Just might greet
Their last sunset
|
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