1. |
Torn to Represent
01:58
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I accomplish nothing and adopt a brand new strut
Show it off to all my friends with a thousand cuts
I can walk a mile and wade through these welcomed barbs
Come out at the end with a smile and a thousand scars
Sorted. Sorted through.
Serving dish is empty, I’m hunger bound to this rut
Force feed me all your ideas to keep me up
Let me turn the dial and scrape off the feathered tar
Just put me right at the top with all the stars
I accomplish nothing and adopt a brand new strut
Show it off to all my friends with a thousand cuts
I can walk a mile and wade through these welcomed barbs
Come out at the end with a smile and a thousand scars
Sorted, Sorted through
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2. |
Young Cement
02:44
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We’re sick of sound, that’s the way we ought to be.
You wear the crown and force your own serenity.
They’ll don the gown and be your new novelty.
It will astound, but we’re as sick as can be.
But we’re all sick of sound.
We’re sick of sound, that’s the way we ought to be.
You wear the crown and force your own serenity.
They’ll don the gown and be your new novelty.
It will astound, but we’re as sick as can be.
But we’re all sick of sound.
Parade them, Parade them
Take your toll
Parade them, Parade them
Cave our skulls
Parade them, Parade them
Drain our souls
Parade them, Parade them
Until you’re full
Hear a song, then we’re done
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3. |
Digital Callous
04:27
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Our job is not to get it done,
We’re gonna reach in and grab us some.
Listen up, we’ll teach you to leave em stunned
Keep em bleeding and pull off the scab
Our job is not to get it done,
We’re gonna reach in and grab us some.
Watch close, we’ll show you just how’s it’s done
We’re gonna reach in
How many tickets til sell-out?
Our greedy fingers will count them.
When you’re ready to clock out,
Our sweaty fists will punch in.
How many tickets til sell-out?
Our greedy fingers will count them.
All your effort is stretched out,
To fill us up to the brim.
Our job is not to get it done,
We’re gonna reach in and grab us some.
Reform and reshape all the shunned,
Stomach us or jump out the cab.
Our job is not to get it done,
We’re gonna reach in and grab us some.
Stick around, we’ll show you just how’s it’s done
We’re gonna reach in
How many tickets til sell-out?
Our greedy fingers will count them.
When you’re ready to clock out,
Our sweaty fists will punch in.
How many tickets til sell-out?
Our greedy fingers will count them.
All your effort is stretched out,
To fill us up to the brim.
We see the tickets and sell out,
We give up all control.
We see the tickets and sell out,
Nail us to the floor.
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Static Choke Lockport, Illinois
Greg - guitars/ vocals/ programming
Pat - bass
Vince - tambourine/drums
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