1. |
Binge Purge
02:08
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Cult to cult, hope against hope.
Embracing the noose as we cling to the rope. Even though we know this is our only home, we still expect a savior as we dig this hole.
When it’s cult to cult and hope things change, embracing the noose as we're content to hang. At this pace, the future only is pain, so set yourself on fire and acclimate to the change.
Gods over broken people
We are trapped in a system that has failed us.
They don’t even hide it. They don’t have to, cause we have nowhere else to go.
You knew I’d be here. You knew that I’d crawl back. Crawl back again just like a dog to his vomit.
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2. |
Added to the Pile
01:59
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What is the high road besides a false sense of self importance?
The bigger man concedes his hand in hopes that he gains a conscience.
But goals are only scored through offense and violating victims only verifies this.
Hell must be real, so I don't feel cheated out of living for myself
I can feel the hunger in my chest.
I want the world but I'm swallowed in debt.
Backed into a corner, forced to consume what they feed to me.
But with your hands in my mouth don’t be surprised when you run into teeth
Everything went black as I bashed the back of the asshole’s head on the asphalt, and as the light left his eyes I wondered inside if this would come back to haunt me.
But I don't think I've lost a wink of sleep, and I'm starting to see all the fabric unraveling, The safeguards they put there to trap me, stifling.
Top of the chain goes case by case by case, and if it's dog eat dog, then I've got you on a plate. The only way their rules would keep you safe is I decided just to lay down and accept my place.
So put me back in my cage, a prison sentence so I'll learn my lesson, but to that man, in that moment, I was god for thirty seconds.
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3. |
Skullbowl
03:14
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I guess I run a little more than I would like to admit. I pick the hill I want to die and just go full sprint. I used to think I'd change the world back when I was a kid, but in the end, it's just a sentimental feeling I get.
I try to focus on what's best for me, but in the end, it always hits just like a brick to see what I want versus what I think I want to be.
Shame on me for thinking I could do both: play their rules and get ahead in this rat race.
Being honest doesn't pay what it should, and in a world full of sheep, I want to eat like a wolf.
I guess I've got a few more problems than I'd like to admit. I take as much of it I can and try to bury it. I keep on lying to my friends until it’s all that they see and keep on lying to myself until I finally believe.
I used to pray for my friends. I used to hurt when they hurt. I used love without expecting any love in return. I used to push to be better. I used to try for change, but now I can't begin to feel those same old things. Cause I left the church, cause I saw no grace. I just saw people judging other people exactly the same. But instead of love, I just gave up, and I just gave in, just like them.
I always thought I’d be a better fucking person than this.
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4. |
Buckle the Spine
03:41
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Carry the guilt until it buckles my spine.
I am indebted to this system even after I die.
I guess it's true when they say nothing is free cause being pushed and pulled feels like the same fucking thing.
When it’s bought, sold, still in a hole, should I be grateful I can't stand on my own?
When the Good Shepherd comes and breaks my bones, it makes it hard to feel like freedom, chained to the narrow road.
Free will the final nail in my coffin, free falling straight to the bottom.
Born in sin, but somehow that’s still my problem. When I was made in his image.
In the end, it means nothing.
Sons of dust. There is no god in any of us.
Just a docile husk, submissive enough to put our trust in a love we're undeserving of.
Life for a life, that's a pretty good price when you're picking up the slack left by Jesus Christ.
Life for a life, but you don’t get to decide.
I like it here at the bottom where they know me by name.
I used to think I wanted out, but now I'm begging to stay.
When you can say that this ain't where I should be, but that's the shit that I take very personally.
Buckle the spine.
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5. |
Reptile & Vinegar
02:37
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Drag me underneath, pulling teeth, kicking screaming. Please, it can't be this easy just to smother me when honestly, I need some consistency. Just going back and forth between all the things keeping me buried.
Try to keep my head down and stay inside my lane, but as it all gets worse at every single turn, you get accustomed to the pain.
Let ‘em claw. Let ‘em scratch as they fight for the fucking scraps.
Let ‘em pray and beg and think that you know best.
Let ‘em line up and confess as you take what little’s left,
as you lead us to our death in more pointless wars that don’t make sense.
Drag me underneath lock and key, stuck in the American dream.
I pray to god on my knees, and I beg him to take this thorn from me.
Are we all really ok with less?
Do we feel like we deserve this?
It's just thoughts and prayers to a silent god and the leaders who forgot us.
There is no karma, no justice, just the level of shit we put up with.
Not a promise, just a sales pitch, so you can gut us and stay rich.
We’re all gutted. Make a new stitch
All hail to the gods over a broken people. We’re born to be enslaved, and we're all fearful and hateful. If I were you I'd be embarrassed to say that the world that I made was such a broken and pathetic waste.
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6. |
Old Dogs
03:55
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What do you want to be when you grow up, kid?
Do you even have hopes? Do you even have dreams?
Or do you just sit around at home smoking weed and watching TV?
You couldn’t even finish college. It wasn’t hard.
You were going to be an artist, but then you let everybody down again and again,
just like you always do. Now all of your friends have big boy jobs and are starting families,
while you’re off in la la land, pretending life isn’t passing you by.
All you do is complain about how terrible your life is,
but you never do anything to change that. You just sulk and you bitch
and you moan and wonder why life has been so hard on you.
Tough break, kid, but I guess you couldn’t cut it.
The world got hard, and you packed your bags and started running.
At this point in my life, I thought I’d be something, working towards my goals
or heading in the right direction.
I wrote this song at least a thousand times in my mind, but I can’t seem to take my own advice.
And all these years, a noose around my neck, the tighter it gets, the less time I have left.
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
You can try, but they won’t learn shit. It’s like my whole life is coming to this:
burnt out, waste of space, never existing.
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. You can try, but they won’t learn shit.
I find myself in the exact same cycle I found myself in ten years ago.
This is a life of regret, and I will ride it straight to my deathbed.
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
You can try, but I don’t think they’ll get it.
When my whole life is coming to this: burnt out, waste of space, never existing.
Lead me to water just so I can beat a dead horse and then complain about how I’ve already done this before. Instead of changing, I’ll just complain instead.
This is a life of regret, and I’ll ride it to my deathbed.
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7. |
Insult
02:20
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I keep on hurting myself with expectations on how I should be treated by everything around me. The world don’t owe you anything, and life is pain. But giving up just means you’re dead weight in the goddamn way.
You keep complaining but you never even try.
Give up, hide, crawl in a hole and die.
Spend your entire life believing that eye for an eye wouldn’t make the world blind.
I guess you’d rather play the victim some more, so quick to fall on your sword pretending that you’re a martyr.
So hypocritical in the cross you bear. The similarity stares you in the face, but you just cry harder. The weakest people use their past to excuse the way they hurt and abuse, so they can justify the shit they do. But we all know the truth: that you were born to lose, and even if you cheat at life, failure’s following you.
I don’t even think that you tried.
Just a victim your whole life
Failure’s following you.
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8. |
Injury
02:58
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I can’t help feeling this is what I get for sticking my fat nose in someone else’s shit.
I was trying to help, but I still feel sick. So what’s the point of having friends, if in the end it always burns me again?
I can’t help feeling this is what I get for sticking my fat nose in someone else’s shit.
I was trying to help, but I still feel sick. So what’s the point of fucking friends.
With a clenched fist and a trembling jaw, I try to get my shit together as I sit in my car. It's been a rough day, and I hate that you called. It’s hard enough keeping my head up without getting involved.
I hate the way you make me feel like I owe you more than
I would ever ask if it were me instead of you in your shoes.
Either way I lose. I could go down with your ship, or I could live in your guilt trip.
I hope to god that it breaks you.
I hope the scars make sure you never look the same again.
I hope to god that it breaks you.
I hope to hell that it hurts.
I’m not strong enough to keep you from sinking, and I’m not cold enough to watch you drown.
If I jump in and we both die from the same things, I just don’t see how that is helping out
I’m not strong enough to hold it together, but It breaks my heart to watch you struggle for air.
I’m sorry I couldn’t get both of us out, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.
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9. |
D.I.L.G.D.
01:14
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Sometimes I still don’t know if I let god die when I let him go.
Or did I really lose my soul. And sometimes I still think back
on how real it felt being in those hands in the lie that carried me when
I was searching for anything.
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10. |
Midwest Buried
02:41
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I saw the cold of the Midwest bury another one. Just taken away.
No hopes, no dreams, just a stream of constant apathy. He wanted out.
So many people just seem broken, so gutted open, just so beat down and hopeless. You can see it in their faces, just how deep that pain is. When you can work harder, and you can be smarter, goddamn and still get lumped into the same batch. You weren't meant for greatness, you were meant for the Working Class.
I see the vices they prescribe, and it's like they don't like us.
It's like they profit off our fucking backs. So who wins when the forest meets the ax?
Being told your whole life that you can be anything you want, but you can break your back until your fingers snap and still be stuck in that same old rut. And was it ever really your life if the only thing you got was a eulogy that you're an honest man and a two by six foot plot?
Sold what's left of me in the trade for the promise of heaven's gates.
Take everything. Leave me nothing. Return to the dust from where I came.
No sign, no stone, no epitaph to let them know my name.
Just leave me here in my unmarked grave.
Midwest buried.
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11. |
Broken People
04:01
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Do you remember me? Called by your name, I gave you everything I had. You were my saving grace, but you abandoned me. One foot in the grave, I'll spend the rest of my existence in this hell you made.
Gave you a life, and all I got was a death bed.
There's nothing more to me.
It's a beautiful thought, but I don't think it holds weight.
Swing low, send me home to the pearly gates.
But it’s just another cult as I keep hoping things change,
embrace the same noose and continue to hang.
God is real, but he is just a machine,
a means of keeping me people trapped inside a certain belief.
So make the best of the foot on the back of my neck. It never ends, it just is what it is.
With a currency like sin, we all bleed to give our share.
It’s the guilt that keeps me here.
It’s your hell that keeps me scared.
And if God should let me go, would the earth not bear me a single moment?
Are the faults that you gave me worthy of burning in hell when I really did try to find you?
And I’d take it all back still if you ever said something, just a sign that you’re real.
And sometimes I still think back on what I knew as fact back then.
At second glance, it makes no sense, but I almost miss, the ignorance is bliss.
I wish you existed. I wish the world that I saw wasn’t broken and on its knees.
Crippled by god and the American dream.
It's all bought, sold, still in that same hole. Broken, pathetic, I can’t stand on my own.
You are the good shepherd, but you break my bones.
The Prodigal Son cause I’ve got nowhere to go.
Do you remember me? Called by your name, I gave you everything I had.
You were my saving grace, but you abandoned me. One foot in the grave,
I'll spend the rest of my existence in this hell you made.
You are God, and I am broken.
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polterguts Saint Louis, Missouri
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