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All promise, empathy, rapport
Distorts the centre of yourself
Gazing blind on a self inflicted view
And that is where you're coming from
Addicted to what we want,
Routines make madness

Retrace the steps and burn the maps,
Forget all of what we had
Look at you, no wonder

I could sever every tie, every connection and survive,
Define the dead weight- what makes us sink,
Beneath the day, the face, the words,
Rest in a blameless state of mind,
Where you retreat
Hating everything

Some endless loop matching the steps I take drifting away no progress made this mental state is strewn like spray paint on forgotten walls that no one cares about, still, what choices have we got?


from They're Like Pop Punk or Whatever, released August 26, 2013




Future Theft Auckland, New Zealand

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