I sat at a bus stop waiting, for the 223 on a winter night at 6pm, near glass and trees. While under my breath I whispered in pride then I watch the snow plows cover covering their ground, revealing yellow lines.
And it’s not this job, and it’s not this state, it’s not the heartfelt apologies given to me like a rat on a plate. It’s so much more than this, it’s the lingering smoke, it’s a long list of requests that have been permanently revoked.
I’m in a constant state of disrepair,
Expiration dates around me sending out signal flares.
It’s always a huge fight, and it always feels wrong,
And I know it just takes time, I just don’t know how long.
And we’ll go back miles just to move up a foot: assimilation, social constructs, and effective output, but it’s never enough. It’s always awkward at best, so you stop trusting fate, you get frustrated and then the good times turn into rent checks.
You’ll sit at buffets and undo your tie,
stay inside and avoid the night life,
reminisce about things you miss too much,
when you found a couple friends and didn’t care that much,
never find time or motivation,
analyze every single tiny situation.
And when you try your best to go back to bed
You hear those familiar words bounce around in your head:
Keep moving, keep going, move forward, fear nothing.
Keep moving, keep going, be hungry, fear nothing.
supported by 9 fans who also own “Coming of Age Movie”
I have heard many talented Chicago punk bands over the years and your band is a legit punk band! I had to buy all the songs. Very well done fellows!
Perry
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