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Dynamite In Hand
03:59
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Dynamite in Hand
I'm desperately waiting for my lungs to explode right out of my chest leaving my heart exposed for all to comment a critique at their will. This isn't my guts but my heart that I spill. Through the smoke and drunken stares I finally feel a sense of pride in who I am. I've got nothing to prove, don't give a flying fuck if I should win or lose. Well I'll be ok. If I had a choice anyway. When time grabs me by the wrist I'll be ready for the ride. The nonsense I scream carries memories of friends. The ones that you love are who's important in the end. My soapbox, this stage is welcome to all to get up and scream so let's all sing along to the times that we shared and the paths that we've taken and the bridges we've burned, was it all worth our time. I will accept what comes my way but I'm taking the wheel. After all I'm not one who goes quietly. The songs that I sing at the top of my lungs daily gives me strength to just carry on. Life is a battle I don't expect to win. I'm finally ok with the state that I'm in. Armed with my memories from the back of the lunch line at school. We were like-minded losers who thought we were cool. Tales from the cement we sat on all night. Aspiring for more, but there was no end in sight. The girls that I fucked but never saw again. Shortsighted romances we thought would not end. We thought we had nothing but we had it all. When reality rang we missed the call. But I'm quite happy with how we ended up. Life's far from permanent.
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Red Wine in a Plastic Cup
It took too long to write this song. A confession of weakness, a declaration of my insecurities. A confession to myself of drunken common sense. A bottle speaking truths and lies through my own tongue this lonely Friday night. This is me naked on this bed. Stripped of anything false pretentious and dead. This is me trying to make some sense. I'm spewing poetry between my gasping breaths. I wish I could answer all with just one damn song. But sometimes beauty lies in the things you just can't solve.
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3. |
Scene Police
03:43
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Scene Police
I try to hold my head up high through so much opposition. I'm always disenfranchised due to my political position. I'm always criticized for my musical decision. My anger gives me strength and my pain makes me feel alive. A culture of shit-talkers and teenage know-it-all's. Their eloquence is lacking - educated at the mall. They think they got it figured out at just 16 years old. Trying to tell me what punk rocks about but I don't care no more! And I say.... I didn't know I had to prove myself to you I didn't know that there were rules! Well I don't care just what it's called cause I'm too busy simply just playing my songs! I clench my fist and grind my teeth my anger eloquently speaks through screaming words and chiming strings I follow no rules I just sing. It's just a genre just a name no one's exclusive to the claim. You think you know what it's about but scene police we'll do without. And I don't think they understand or get what it's all about. So judgmental, condescending why can't they stop pretending to be someone else? Look at them all and all of their so-called opinions. Trying to get on, but getting hit by the fucking bandwagon. Worry what it's called, instead of simply just singing along. Insecure and unaware. The biggest decision they make is how to put up their hair. And I'm not listening and I don't care. I'm not asking for your opinion, your comments or your glares. You all can fuck off and run home to mommy, suck on your thumb and piss in your bed and feel like a fucking rock star. Do you feel like a fucking rock star? NO! Do you feel like a fucking rock star? NO! I clench my fist and grind my teeth my anger eloquently speaks through screaming words and chiming strings I follow no rules I just sing. It's just a genre just a name no one's exclusive to the claim. You think you know what it's about but scene police we'll do without.
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We Sold Our Black Flags To Pay Rent
If your destiny is calling me it's something I've never heard because I don't believe in god or have faith in all of Jesus' words. The path I follow purely driven by a distant song. My heart will come up with the lyrics, even out of tune I will sing along. So what happened to the protests and the riots in the street, people putting ideas before manners and city properties. We're all hung up on our mortgage, rents and our own bank accounts, a well-respected job, material possessions that we can do without. We've lost the feeling in our hearts. We sit and watch the world fall apart, from the comfort of our home. If we pay the rent will they leave us alone? They say that destiny's still calling me like bombs heard in the distance. Justified with words like faith and a god-given right to destroy all that oppose us but convinced that we are blessed. Stupidly believing our divinity will be recognized by borders on a map. Even if we give in we come in last. We all are haunted by our past. What we stood for now came and went. We sold our black flags to pay rent. So let's bring the riots to the streets and burn the motherfuckers down. Let the politicians hear us and go deaf from all the sound of our screaming harmonies sung from the bottom of our hearts. Let's watch 'em drown. After all for years they watched us drown. Feed us consumer goods to buy. Gave us religion to comply. God knows I never will comply. I'll do my best to not sell my black flag for rent!
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5. |
Patron Saints Of Fuck
03:47
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Patron Saints of Fuck
As desperate as we are at the bottom of our hearts it's so beautiful to see how easily we all fall apart. Time and time again I've lost my head and my blood starts to boil to the point where we all should be dead. I don't regret most things that I've done but I regret some things that I haven't done. I've been told that all the shit floats to the top. Does this mean that I have a chance to make something of myself? The lowlife degenerate I am and nothing else. We got nothing to lose except our health and that will take some time. We are the ones who aren't content with just biding our time. We live our lives to the point of death but try not to cross the line. We all know too very well that we'll never live a normal life. We got nowhere to go! And we're not welcome to stay! So I guess that we'll move on! If we want to see another day! See another day! I got hope under this despair. We laugh at the notion that life ain't fair. We take our tragedy in stride and utilize it for our creative side. We all know that we're just lost, so we drink it down and shrug it off. I sang this song for so many years and continue to write the sound track of our lives. We may drink ourselves to sleep, but we don't want to die just yet. And in the morning we'll be fine. A little bit hungover with the memory of a good fucking time! We held our heads up high but we held our 40's higher. We sang our music loud and we passed out on the floor!
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Faithless Saints Portland, Oregon
Faithless Saints are a punk band based in Portland OR. They currently release and record all of their own records from their very own Irican Productions
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