dead beat. the things that you what and you need, they ain’t always the same. backs break in syncopated dirty rhythms the time clocks all keep. and not everybody’s the same but everybody that I know just says the same thing: “i’ll just feel like shit come morning.” and everybody’s to blame when everybody still acquiesces and downplays how much time we let the workplace steal from under these crooked legs. so what the fuck’s wrong with me? and how is it ok to cave in to easily? is it just rough at seas or fucked from the get go? i don’t know. i just don’t know anything but scraping by on a life teetering in between destruction and passion for grabbing that life by its throat. do you see?
Track Name: slummin'
i'm sick. hey whiskey, why you always do this to me? i’m spinning like a headline and i don't feel goddamn thing. well it's no crying shame. it's no crying shame to be young, stuck, and wandering. i'm slummin' away my time. there's a feeling i can't explain. and the skyline looms so goddamned inviting. and somewhere between you and me there's a city asleep dog-eyed in reverie.
Track Name: grifter
i just can't explain that turning point when everything became a confidence game played for the highest stakes. well i'm on a losing streak. what would you say if you replayed the last of me? the first act: as confident as kings til' stagefright took flight and ruined everything. so what's left to do when you've fell through every crack laid out in front of you? shut up, ship out or begin to lay concrete and fill that in. i'm turning self doubt into solid ground built to stand with the punches i take. am i cast down, shut out all just to preservate? believe that this is not me. there's a voice in my head telling me i'm not defeated yet. there's desperation in my throat that says i haven't broken yet. cause every mile that i leave, every molecule i breathe could be a landslide left behind. and i don't know a fucking thing but i know i won't lay down and die.