1. |
Goodbye, Old Me
02:57
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Riding in the pick-up with my poppa
Listening to some Black Sabbath tunes
Going downhill he kept driving faster
Watching through the window a quick-following moon
I was afraid to stare at it
I imagined it could explode
And I guess that's what happened
'cause my eyes were violently closed
Replaying in my head what had just happened
Laying on a stretcher in the ambulance
Numbed body but a sensitive conscience
Kept thinking of the last thing I did
I swear I'll never stare at the moon again
Woke up to find momma sitting next to me
Weeping, she said "son there was an accident"
"My poor baby, I'm sorry!"
"You won't be able to walk again"
How was I to understand at such short fucking age
That I would lose both of my legs
Dad had gone missing and life would completely change
Goodbye, old me.
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2. |
Two Dollar Bill
02:09
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Lonesome, that's how I felt everywhere
Even in my own family's home
Lived the closest thing to being a slave
Strapped to a wheelchair and told I was saved
That two dollar bill
In your wallet won't bring you luck
That chain hanging on your neck
Won't do miracle work
If you don't do shit for yourself
Why have expectations on someone else
Still I'm searching for a place to just fit in
Even though there's no such fucking thing
Let's play pretend
(We don't even like ourselves).
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3. |
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Tú que has sido favorecido
Por la selección natural
Cuentas con dos piernas
Y te dedicas a caminar en círculos
Y yo dependo en dos círculos
Para poder avanzar
Aunque no logro explicarme
Por que a pesar de tus facilidades
Prefieres mantenerte estancado
Poco a poco te vas ahorcando
No siento conexión con los que me rodean
El día que fallezca, recuerden esto de mí:
No me fui, porque nunca estuve aquí.
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4. |
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I like to keep
My quiet if I have nothing kind to say
Some tend to speak
Hurtful words as if they were okay
Just what the world needs:
Assholes with self-entitlement pleas
Dropping unasked opinions
Their cordiality is non-existent
On occasions remaining actionless
When there's need of a helping hand
Manners don't matter anymore
Times always stay the same
We get worse everyday.
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5. |
Bad News Bearers
04:34
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Guiltlessness was stolen from me
Who do I blame? I'm surrounded by thieves
It seems that we're all carrying
A heavy baggage of unfortunate things
We are the bearers of bad news
Bad news, bad news, bad news
You can choose what you gain
You can't choose what you lose
Pointing fingers and looked at different
Is that the concept of special treatment?
But I know what you think
That I'm useless, that I'm weak
Why do they state the obvious?
I know I'm missing something.
I am and so are you
We're not special or different.
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Days Of Struggle Tijuana, Mexico
Tijuana Hardcore. Est. 2008.
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