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lyrics
I’ve spent the last year trying to be
anywhere but my own skin
Crawled out the Atlantic on a swollen belly
wipe the shit off my knees at the Promised Land
Rat race has me runnin’ in circles
Money’s burnin’ holes through all my jeans
So tired of just tryin’ to live
the alternative seems sweeter each day.
Death and taxes ain’t the only thing keepin’ us down in 2016
There’s a gluttonous virus creepin’ through our machine
and he takes and he takes and he takes AND TAKES!
Thunderous, in a three-piece suit
Linin’ his pockets with the hopes of the youth
He snorts and sniffts, and grunts and roots
But to call him a pig would be an insult to their species.
Bodies swarm the border to see the other side
I push myself to the front to be the first one out
The air seems so much sweeter there, the streets are paved with gold
You can come as you are, leave behind your wordly woes
But no one knows
that there’s a toll at the light at the end of the tunnel
And you’ll still be broke
when you reach the other side
Oh, I don’t know
if the grass is really greener there
But what can be worse?
(Than failing) in a place that hates you more than you hate it
(Anything) has to be better than this
(Agony) this American dream is killing me
(The irony) of working to death for a living
We’re born from shit, and that is where we’ll stay
From our conception until our dying day
Maybe one day I’ll look back on this like a bad dream
Chased by my own demons but with bricks strapped to my feet
And the angels run my pockets at the Pearly Gates
They’ll let me in, but I’ll still have to work for my place
Cause there’s no rest for the ones who intend to make it out alive
I’d sell myself short, work myself into the ground
When panic only digs your hole deeper
There is no scramble to the top
Cause we’re digging our graves by running in place, we’re digging our graves…
We’re digging our graves by running in place
Maybe one day I’ll get out of here, but man that day ain’t today.
I’m sick, and tired, my boss is a dick; I think I’ll give up, and go back to sleep
But sleep is for the ones who can afford it
and I haven’t had enough in years
I’m wide awake, planning my escape
but too beat to actually do it.
Maybe one day I’ll get out of here, but man that day ain’t today.
I’m sick, and tired, my boss is a dick; I think I’ll give up, and go back to sleep...
supported by 7 fans who also own “Born To Run In Place”
This entire album rips. I've had this on repeated play several times since it came out. I wish I had heard it a week earlier when they played in Boston. One of my fav albums in this genre period. slimes
The latest from French Vanilla mashes up art punk, funk, and new wave into avant-garde pop songs as catchy as they are danceable. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 18, 2019