Painted

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lyrics

When was the last time you were honest with yourself?
For that matter, when was the last time you sat back with black ink and painted the scars on your body solely for the perspective of others?
I've been sinking for 20 years and I still can't seem to gather my thoughts.
I can't seem to keep an opinion based on other's beliefs pleasing what's left of those around me.
I can't seem to see what's right in front of me as the view has been blocked by my own self indulgence and urge to carry relief on my back like I'm supposed to be some sort of best friend nap sack.
The sun's been out for almost a week now but I still haven't gone outside, I've been too busy counting crows on a wire as they cackled and mocked the lack of freedom that they see each and every day.
And now I'm left wondering if there was ever I time when I wasn't honest with myself.
When was the last time?
They sleep with a gun under their pillow
They purchase mail orders widows to easer their pain
You'll never see this coming again and again.
It's taking me over again.
I'm leaving this place I'm bound to find an end to all this famine and greed.
Maybe then we'd see...

Maybe then we'd see...
That we can breath a new hope into society.
That it is possible to see the new world inside of me.
If we could only see.

credits

from A Tragic Waste of Sound, released August 18, 2017

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OVAV Halifax, Nova Scotia

Post Hardcore from Halifax, NS.

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