Born to Lose

En ny era

Not the Love of My Life

The Last Laugh

Love Letter

I Am My Brothers Keeper

Little Mary was barely ten
The day I told her I had to leave
She didn't understand
And I knew she wouldn't for a few years
But the choice was never mine
And I tried to explain it best I could
She said, "Will you call?"
I said, "Baby, I wish I could"
And I said

I would rather drown
Than float outta town
Than leave you behind
I'd rather go to hell
Than to the wishing well
To leave you behind
To leave you behind


Oh, Johnny was barely sixteen
The day he lost his dad
He cried when I told him
But I told him I was comin' back
Then he looked me in the eyes
And said, "Please don't go"
I said, "I have to, Johnny
But one day, you'll know"
And I said


"I would rather drown
Than float outta town
Than leave you behind
I'd rather go to hell
Than to the wishing well
To leave you behind"
To leave you behind
To leave you behind


If I could turn back time
And not cross that line
I would


But I would rather drown
Than float outta town
Than leave you behind
I'd rather go to hell
Than to the wishing well
To leave you behind
I'd rather drown
Than float outta town
Than leave you behind
I'd rather go to hell
Than to the wishing well
To leave you behind
To leave you behind
To leave you behind
To leave you behind

To Leave You Behind

Papper staplas, lögner smetas tjockt på toppen,
Politiker mumlar, deras ord känns som sopor i botten.
Snurrar runt i hamsterhjul, jag ser folk gå i cirklar,
Riksdagen som cirkus, clowner i slipsar, sippar drinkar.

Säger att dom ser oss, men glasögonen immar,
Pratar om förändring, men inget händer, bara flimrar.
Skatter höga som torn, vi jobbar, ändå fattiga,
Folkets röster kvävs, mikrofoner som bara skrattar.

Misstro i systemet, byggt på sprickor och lögner,
Dom säger vi är fria, men kedjorna dom döljer.
Misstro i systemet, som en saga utan slut,
Vi jagar efter svar, men dom gömmer allt till slut.

Tunnelbanan luktar svett, folk med tomma blickar,
Lyssnar på en statsman som talar i kryptiska dikter.
Socialen tar barn, men vem tar ansvar för staten?
Systemet tuggar folk, spottar ut dom, krossar fasaden.

Jobba tills du dör, det är planen som dom döljer,
Löften som försvinner, krossas under deras stövlar.
Röda mattan rullas ut för dom med feta fickor,
Vi andra står i kön, ser våra drömmar bli till stickor.

Misstro i systemet, byggt på sprickor och lögner,
Dom säger vi är fria, men kedjorna dom döljer.
Misstro i systemet, som en saga utan slut,
Vi jagar efter svar, men dom gömmer allt till slut.

Cirkus

Just some yokel from nowhere decided to make music for people who’s left feelings unexpressed

Cirkus

James. J Greene