Tuesday, June 2, 2009

youth crew blues

crickets sing our names all day, "we're clean till the week breaks"
rendezvous before the house show at seven, you have a friend for me to meet
humility's his god given name, he answers to common sense
life isn't as bad as you want it to be, actuality is far from what you think

sullen and pissed at the burns from home
you'll buckle under your happiness
nothing feel betters than blaming everyone
that's why I nod to the beat and look straight ahead

a sojourn to this county brews the blues, once in, you're dense with pestilence
favor a night that lasts forever, waking up here is cruel to the spirit
they bury youth like plants to be harvested
an article to be read in leisure
so we poisen ourselves and stumble through, no one will notice till a bill's due

you'll buckle under your happiness
like I'll die from a lie I told when I was six

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