Broken knuckles bleeding Foreheads
Shirt collars I’m still grabbing
Accusations rolling eyes
Reasons I’m still pulling my hair out
Those fucking cords stretched through broken glass
Never summed up so much.
All of this to be raped of self esteem
And expose my fucking self
Tonight
What could possibly go right?
What could possibly go fucking right?
To every toothless fucking grin (You are the few)
I’m sick of saying this is just not worth this shit.
For every kid that’s waiting to die
(You know our names) I’m sick of saying
This is just not worth this shit.
No point in thinking this will all work out
So many days I could do with out
But the point of it all is to never look back
So I live for today and die by the night
These veins are burning fucking red
And this is when I can’t turn back.
Started in 1995, Bridge Nine is a label that specializes in hardcore punk, with close to 300 recordings in our catalog. Check us out and keep an eye out for updates!
