1. |
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4:49pm, and we're ready for another night in Watford, never feeling hopeful. Everything I've worked for my entire life will all go up in smoke tonight; it's doubtful, but I ain't fuckin' rational.
Consequence is common sense and I'm not dressed for such events.
We're declaring our intentions now, they're diabolical.
Another night in STA, the bar is full but the venue's fucking empty, or is that just me? Well I know we're not original, and far from inspirational, but honestly, at least we have honesty.
Consequence is common sense and I'm not dressed for such events.
We're declaring our intentions now, they're diabolical.
Consequence is common sense and I'm not dressed for such events.
We're declaring our intentions now...
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2. |
Stressed And Depressed
02:51
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I found myself, drunken and disheveled; I watch the rain and hope for better days, but I guess I'm a special kind of wreck, but I digress;
'Cause I'm stressed and depressed and don't wanna get dressed. Student debt is all that's left.
And if I were to die tonight, what a beautiful sight, but I'm alright.
I'll never be anyone you'd care to meet.
Potential thrown away, I hate this place, there's nothing left for me, so why don't we just go and stop feeling alone. Pissing our lives away in a dead-end town with no route of escape. All the joy we've found, we'll leave it six feet underground.
And I can't stay, and run in place, 'cause I'll stagnate and turn into everything I hate.
I can't believe just how much time we've wasted here; we've been stuck in place for nigh on twenty years. Two steps forward, two steps back, even though we're right on track, so let's fucking leave, de-fucking-railed, and never come back home.
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3. |
Sick Of Feeling Sick
02:40
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So here we are again, another night alone; just like I've always been. Maybe this time, I can take control of my life, but I guess I'll end up here again.
This is the last time I'll tell myself that it's the last time. This is the last time.
I'm a mess, I'm a wreck, I just feel so broken;
I'm oh so sick of feeling sick, I'm oh so fucking done with this, I keep telling myself this is what I want, but I'm so tired of it.
I just want to sleep, escape from this routine, away from all the long nights and anxiety.
I'll never let this rest, I'll never learn from this; I guess I'm just a fucking waste of space.
This is the last time I'll tell myself that it's the last time. This is the last time.
I'm a mess, I'm a wreck, I just feel so broken;
I'm oh so sick of feeling sick, I'm oh so fucking done with this, I keep telling myself this is what I want, but I'm so tired of it.
I'm a mess, I'm a wreck, I just feel so broken;
I'm oh so sick of feeling sick, I'm oh so fucking done with this, I keep telling myself this is what I want, but I'm so tired of it.
BLEGH
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4. |
Comfort Zone
02:32
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Let's begin with the end and how it got like this; scrolling through my Facebook messages, I found you'd gotten cold and distant, trying to figure out where I made a mistake. Nothing that I can say to change the way you feel today, all I know for sure is that I'm not okay, I'm not o-fucking-kay.
I'm back to being alone, back in my comfort zone, I've deleted your pictures, burned your books and sold my phone. I don't want to cut ties, you know I hate goodbyes, but you'd understand if you saw all of this through my eyes.
Now he's back again, the same fucking dick he was back then, I hope he chokes.
I hope you choke, you cunt, get fucked.
I hope his train crashes, leaves no survivors, and you end up knowing what I know.
You'll end up alone, out of your comfort zone, burning all your bridges, cutting ties and staying home. I don't mean to start a fight, I mean I hope he treats you right. In all honesty I hope that everything isn't alright.
I'm back to being alone, back in my comfort zone, I've deleted your pictures, burned your books and sold my phone. I don't want to cut ties, you know I hate goodbyes, but you'd understand if you saw all of this through my eyes.
I'm back to being alone, back in my comfort zone, I've deleted your pictures, burned your books and sold my phone. I've got nothing left to say, so I'll hide this song away, and every time you're online, just pretend that I'm okay.
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Defeat Statistics UK
Four-piece queer punk band in the grey and bitter south.
We'll play in your kitchen for petrol money.
Defeat Statistics recommends:
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