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lyrics
Well it feels like I'm final round
My heads against the ropes but at least I'm off the ground
Don't lie down on broken ground
I thought you called my name
Memories resound
I'm feeling under the gun
Sweep it under the rug
Keeping both hands up while I bob and weave
Relieve the pressure in my eyelids, get cut, it's my own damn turf and I'll plant my feet
I can't let nostalgia trick my heart, my head was clear when my path departed
Flip the phrase so you can get your way but I'm not in debt to the old days
And I can't get no joy down here
But atleast alone I can think clear
And I can't get no joy down here
But I'll make my peace with all my fears
You won't find me keeping company with these
Well it feels like I'm in the final stretch
Nothing left to give
So I'll take what I get
my memories of old times are like waves in the sea, crashing against the rocks of my reality. There are times these thoughts have almost drowned me
credits
released September 15, 2015
written by street sense
recorded at frontline studio by joe auermann
photo by Joon Spiro of Spiro Photography
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