Not the same as before, locked down no escape

Your heard hurts hard, throbs in straight

Rescue you from roads of pain

Grime in the back of your brain break glass just to feel sane

It's alright to see our lives pass you by

Over you we step on glass with broken teeth

It's so true, empty bottles and lust tattoos

New punk tombs

Mains a street of shame and hastings a waste of life

Broadway take the eastbound to 1342