Dead Fireworks & Downward Spiral

from by #boifreindz

/

lyrics

Until now, it's all been a shit-show,
a clusterfuck of bonfires and bad dreams,
just so many chattering teeth
on the mouth of a hometown horizon;
forty car pileup, dead center
on the television of heaven.
Only yesterday were we living under
a borrowed sky,
cigarettes behind the moon,
our fingertips deep
in the frozen soil.
And I don't dream because my hands are cold,
but because they were once warm.
And I don't think it's the first time this city
has let me down, but it's the last time I'll let it.
So Jesus Christ, pass me a beer and
make it heavy because I'm pretty sure
it's all dead fireworks
and downward spiral
from here on out.


Mondays starting with the sight of distruction
We blame the media, and family function
metaphorically my plates keep shiftin
in reality my thoughts keep driftin

All the children think its guranteed
they know that life is like the image on the tv
pushin, tiny machines, dreamin tiny dreams
the world is cold and its flowin through my blue veins

They're closing in and it's the blood they're after
I try to hide but the teeth move faster
so many sights dead set on the target
what have we started its so highly regarded with all the

Stains in my jeans from my occupation
all these bruises from my intoxication
social escape is nestled tightly in my right hand
I know I walked here now I can't stand.

To crave a couch that is not my own
stay in a house that is not my home
learning now, that this is my reality
It's what I need to feed this hunger for variety

Don't think beyond your years
I don't hear beyond my ears
blinders down so that I can see
that when I'm lost the cause is usually sobriety

Breakin rules just to test your fate
to paint a price is just a portrait of a false rate
watch you conjure a reality
fabrication of affection built on top of me

New age detective and I'm creepin on your front page
Slowly filling my emotional shortage on top of
learning now that artificial is reality
"actually" the interjection leaking out of me

I'm on a couch that is not my own
I'm in a house that is not my home
learning now, that this is my reality
It's what I need to feed my hunger for variety

don't think beyond your years
I don't hear beyond my ears
blinders down so that I can see
that when im lost the cause is usually sobriety

credits

from Boys Weekend, released April 12, 2013
###

Andrew Benda, guitar
Dillon Geshel, drums
Steven Holmes, bass & vocals
Matt Langlais, vocals
Travis Paquin, vocals
August Smith, spoken word

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