EVERY NIGHT I SPIT A BIT
writing words across the mindsince I can't remember
but still every night
a jazz head spins records to night
white walls breath early smoke
they cry heavily on such dose
for a swing trying to crack open
in our cold wind bones fixed
own old club hearts a goal
the vicious a forgotten day
let alone a child play
wanting to let go
we never pray
water runs down a wall
and the music is on
a monster sleeps on two beds
let it rest aside
work has to be done
misery is free and feeds
white walls home of the people
sadness you wait
and a future goes green
turn purple fuck the grave
please forgive me
that’s all we can say
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