Hold your breath
until you can't hold
your breath anymore
then tell me we're not animals
like the blood in our veins makes you special.
Like the channels from our eyes to our brains don't all shut down when we can't breathe
Like what fills your lungs is better
Like the dust you'll become is any different than what's in everything.
I saw us all in the vulture nourished with carrion.
The small dead parts of an old life
become the wings that'll carry 'em.
You should've seen us
running in packs last Saturday
To a soundtrack of cicada songs
and the rattle of modern machinery.
Pride-less lions biting necks
in the name of Aslan
for a spot in eternity
But that's just called
missing out on eternity.
You've just gotta wake up
and hang out
with your really big fucking family.
supported by 19 fans who also own “you're doin' great!”
Iron Chic's narrative, some of the most aware & conscientious lyrics you will find in punk. The music is just as damn good...
"There's no answers, so take a guess & make up the rest"
"I couldn't stand to watch you die, so I died first, that's how I survived"