I am no longer a man, I am a walking disgrace. 
I speak not only for myself, I speak for all of those who've failed. 
We have escaped, the grips of misfortune. 
Been dragged back by the hair. 
Been told that we are going nowhere, 
But come to realize that happiness is too hard to find. 
For those who've tried and tried again. 
Only to be washed away with the tide. 
My best years are wasted trying not fail.

Faith in Failure

Artificial light makes me sick and the sun makes me sweat, 
So I'll sit here in the dark without a taste of regret. 
Take your dreams they mean nothing to me. 
You have to the option of leaving me breathing— 
I am unseen— 
Or kill in my sleep just to see me bleeding. 

This is your time to get out, 
If I'm the rat in the gutter then what do you call yourself? 
I've been looked down upon for far too long 
19 needles in a hollowed out bible on the bottom shelf. 

Beside that old 44, 
The only relic of what I had, 
When my life meant more. 
My only keepsake, 
I could hold onto 
Just incase you'd try and run to him. 

I tried to warn you I am nothing but trouble, 
but you had me and you left all your family. 
Then you dropped out, and put that needle in your arm. 
I was aware of this, but now you're too far gone. 

So I'll bite the bottle and refuse to be another tooth, 
In the mouth of this machine. 
So I'll bite the bullet with a shot at my own faith, 
I once believed we'd all be saved but god. 
I was a fucking fool. 

Reminience about the old days, 
Making your mother proud just by moving your lips. 
A shaky presence, a hazy adolesence, 
Covered in blackouts, and faces I have never seen. 

Oh god I hear them again calling my name, 
Like it's fresh on their skin. 
The memories that I repress pull apart my faith and family.. 
If only you knew the life of torment I once lived. 
You'd spare a fucking quarter, 
I could bury the past, 
I could forget what's done and who's dead. 

For just a single moment, 
I crack a smile and look to the sky. 
I will die where I sit in the gutter, 
I will die with a glint in my eye. 

The streets are cold, I feel the nights getting colder. 
Bruised shoulders, 
Another excuse to walk the streets at night all alone.

Deadbeat

	
Yourself, nothing but anothers thoughts. 
Scratching for another hit. 
Myself, the one that used to stick around, 
When there was no one left when no one cared. 

I bet you're fucking scarred for life, 
Over everything that we have seen. 
Hopeless days and bloodshot eyes, 
Every night when you realize, 
that what youre searching for is too hard to find. 

The soul is such an unreachable fantasy. 
Without slaughter of your present state of mind. 
You'll go on living a cheap imitated lie. 

Driven by the opinions of all those who dont matter. 
Motivated by the pleasure of finding a flaw. 
In everybody else's face. 
Identity is losing ground with addiction and despair. 

They're all waiting for you to crumble and fall to your knees. 
The conditions of this world are so far from the american dream. 
Basing our lives on serving our slavemaker, 
Just to achieve nothing but dependance on our own. 

So fuck all these rules that imprison who we are. 
We are free, 
Lets turn the fucking tables and see, 
How you like to be stepped on. 

My blood has packed its bags and left the stream, 
If only head and heart could fucking compromise. 
We'd only be invincible we'd never be the same. 

Take down that glass of reality, 
And feast upon personal failure. 
But don't feel alone we've all failed ourselves. 

Our hands are numb from worthlessness. 
You are the weight that holds us down. 
We are redefining self destruction, 
And all emotion dies along with us. 

But... from now on I'll live my life now by what it is I claim to be. 
I'm better off shutting down, 
And letting ignorance kill instinct. 
Our singularity is nowhere to be found. 

My life Is spent, 
Waiting on your hand. 
When I was the only one, 
Who stopped and cared for you. 

Once you were gone, 
I started over again, 
But you came back to finish what you started with me. 
But it's too late, its too close to the end. 
You have no idea what its like to be me. 

Hopeless days and hopeless nights. 
You have no idea, You have no idea. 
Hopeless days and bloodshot eyes. 
Base our lives on serving our slavemaker.

Slavemaker

A spark is made and his eyes are gone, 
And I watch as his world goes too. 
Another night with a belt around his arm, 
He'd sit on his throne and he'd stare at that cancerous box. 

But his dreams of prosper were the only thing that could, 
Unpeel his bloodshot eyes. 
I remember the day when I opened my eyes to that fucking note you left. 
This house is not my home. 
Just a note upon the dresser and another night alone. 

And so he would stay. 
He'd stay in the night 
Just to wait and hear her knocking but no one was coming. 
And so he would wait up at night. 
And he'd look to the north, 
And you wouldn't believe the sights he could see. 

The sights of wishful thinkers. 
The sights of sluts and fucking whores and drifters. 
She sits beside him as he quivers with a nervous grin on his face. 
He feels ashamed but lets it happen for the thrill of the chase. 
Oh how he hates this place. 

She closes her eyes and holds her breath. 
And he trusts her throat to his sweet fucking breath. 
"I am The Devil," he said and he grabbed that fucking gun, 
And he picked her teeth up one by one. 

Your fucking fix is fathomed by yourself. 
You're lost among the fallen leaves, 
And with fucking theives who've dealt. 

But the bible, oh the good book was taken off the shelf. 
You're lost among the fallen leaves and you will be gone and dead as you have lived. 

Faithlessness isn't the end of me. 
I've lost friends to faith and theyre all gone now. 
Faithlessness isn't the end of me. 
I've lost friends to faith and god, they're gone and fucking dead. 

And I throw up at the thought of the familiar sting that you speak of. 
It makes me fucking sick, and I wish that you would... 
Overdose, and let me find you there. 

Laying in a puddle on the floor... 
Consisting of whiskey and your fucking whore. 

And I smirk at the thought, 
You'll rot in the ground for the fight that you fought. 
But then I realize that we're all gonna die, for the sins that we sought, 
And all the irony sets in. 
The bottle broken the blood on your hands, it repeats like. 
The repression consists of my clothes at the cleaners, 
The smell of your blood type. 

fuck...

Bloodshot

|| INDEPENDENT HARDCORE GROOVE | SURVIVING IN WOODSTOCK//ETOBICOKE, ONTARIO, CANADA ||

As We Break