1. |
Crooked Words
01:47
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(TRIGGER WARNING: Self harm, depression)
I see the flickering lights at the end of my street
In this rotting old town that always smelled of defeat
I'd find my peace in the bottle I have claimed for my own
Drink myself to the grave rather than wake up alone
I keep a switchblade hidden at the tip of my tounge
I whisper desperate lies into the ears of the young
Drowning in rum and despair and now their faces are gone
I guess that just being me is worse than being no one
Crawling helpless, blinded in graveyard mud
Bruised knuckles say a prayer to a non-caring god
Recalling nothing but wordless shouts and blood
I take a knife to my flesh as hard as I could
Their words, their words, their crooked words
They tear right into my head like the claws of a vulture
And they rip out the eyes of all the people in my dreams
I sober up and I am nothing but the hate and the screams
Priceless is worthless is lifeless
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2. |
Ol' Georgie
01:41
|
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(TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide)
Sun runs
over meadows
meadows that once were green
Sun
Runs
Over barren
life
I will always stay
dead years, wasted
wasted on nothing
nothing, means anything
something beautiful
short
short life, miserable
life
live, life, less, die.
I try to stop thinking.
about old georgie lurking in the shadows
I try to hide
live, life, less, die
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3. |
Set Myself Alight
01:53
|
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(TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide)
The web grows, when it should be thinning out
More and more to leave
more to miss.
I want to pass by unnoticed
visit me, visit me.
living on standby
forcefed guilt
every bond is a noose
You dont
know me
visit me, visit me
there is no warmth left in me.
visit me, visit
me
as i watch the world burn
set myself alight
my flame is weak, douse me
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4. |
Gibbets
11:12
|
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(TRIGGER WARNING: Self harm)
There's a special place in hell for those forcing hardships onto others
And now you wonder if hell holds a seat for you, since you're a part of the problem
And you look away, I look away, we all look away
my life's an accident and all my choices are mistakes
my job's a suicide and my originals are fakes
I've got a bullet with the names of all the bastards I want dead
I think about them every day, I keep them safely in my head
Without missing a beat I'd throw my hands against the stone
Shivering, trembling with hate I'd blunt the knife against the bone
This life is just a fucking nightmare and we all end up alone
I'd put the pressure back on the bastards
With their mouths always reeking of death
As they condescend on the fragile hearts
Leaving us in gibbets with our jaws ripped apart
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Murderofcrows Gothenburg, Sweden
2014 - 2019
LAST SHOW:
2020-01-10
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