
Date of issue: 08.02.2015
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
Boundless |
Dear everyone, we are a broken people. |
But, it’s okay, at least we have each other. |
And all I ask is that we can love one another, |
In a society of social adaptation to no end. |
We can’t pretend to fall silent in this bend. |
Enduring injustice and lack of substance, reduced to redundancy. |
Repetition, regurgitating serpents to the church of Christ. |
Now, the church of judgement. |
Amid the beautiful devastation, |
The reusable meditation to calm the nerves of witnesses to a crime of passion. |
A crime of madness, |
A crime of catastrophic proportions extended across seas, |
Reaching into the hearts of children, |
Grabbing into their vital organs. |
Until their blood pumps differently, |
Now inept to the silence, |
Rather than the equality. |
We’ve been indoctrinate to believe that it is better to die for our beliefs |
rather than live in vain. |
And this is a belief that I breathe in, every single day. |
Not letting a single moment go to waste. |
But we find fault in our grief, and we let political biases enter a spiritual |
realm, and change the pace of our breath, |
Until anxiety has consumed the depth of our mess, that is our bleeding head. |
Breaking our necks and changing the landscape of the human brain. |
To conform to lessons we prescribe to those we thought were not living life in |
a way we wanted to see astride. |
So we created a diatribe, a sickening language of dialect to change the meaning |
of brokenness. |
So we can say we are changed. |
Even thought the linguistics were simply just rearranged. |
And brought back to a point of comfort, |
Through a time of stress. |
And we talk to each other fairly straight, |
But at a scary rate, we escalate our fate to the point of that very break. |
And then in times of comfort we barely relate. |
Just a merry state of intellect fleeting down a warred drain, |
But it always leaves dark stains in the sink holding society to the brink of |
rioting. |
The extinct act of trying, and that’s why I’m writing. |
I want the ink of my pen to stain the hands and hearts of many, |
In the name of love, |
In the name of peace, |
In the name of grace. |
Don’t shy away I don’t write to expose shame, or pass blame. |
But rather to make it known that we are all the same. |
In need of love, |
and in need of embrace. |
So let’s make this change, and find a way to relate, |
In a way of love, |
Not hate. |
Name | Year |
---|---|
Nothing Was the Same | 2015 |
Wooden Floorboards | 2015 |
I Died With You | 2015 |
Alcoholocaust | 2016 |
Run Wild, Young Beauty | 2015 |
Love Life, Let Go | 2015 |
Where We Sleep Is Where We Dream | 2016 |
July (Part One) | 2015 |
August (Part Two) | 2015 |
Nothing Was Different | 2015 |
Broke Love | 2016 |
Constant Conclusions | 2015 |
Ten Steps Forward | 2015 |
I Think You See Where This Is Headed | 2016 |
Lesser | 2016 |
Two Steps Back | 2015 |
Saltwater For Blood | 2016 |
Lose One Friend | 2014 |
Nicole | 2014 |
813 Maryland St. | 2015 |