(Verse 1)
I used to scream ‘til my throat gave out,
Basement shows, sweat dripping through the crowd,
A Fender slung low, distortion kept me from drownin',
We were the kings of nowhere, tearing this town down.
Spray paint on my cases, dreams in my veins,
Every chord I played was a finger to the man,
But the van broke down, the tapes all warped,
Put the 6 string down in late for work.
(Pre-Chorus)
I still hear the feedback hum in my skull,
A ghost of who I was when life wasn't so dull.
(Chorus)
I traded power chords for a steady check,
Safety nets for late night sets,
Punk rock veins pumping 9-to-5 blood,
I’m drowning in the quiet where the noise once was.
The stage is gone, the lights burned out,
I’m just a shadow of the kid who used to shout,
Growing up’s a slow choke on what I swore I’d be,
A burnout fighter lost in mediocrity.
(Verse 2)
We wrote anthems on napkins, stole gas to get by,
Ripped fishnets and patches, middle fingers to the sky,
We broke strings like hearts, the PA blew a fuse,
Every night a war we swore we’d never lose.
Now I’m clocking in, coffee stains on my tie,
Trading breakdowns for spreadsheets, no battle cry,
The mirror shows a stranger, lines where youth decayed,
I sold my soul for steady, and the reverb fades.
(Pre-Chorus)
I still smell the smoke from the amps we fried,
A fleeting spark of the kid who never died.
(Chorus)
I traded power chords for a steady check,
Safety nets for late night sets,
Punk rock veins pumping 9-to-5 blood,
I’m drowning in the quiet where the noise once was.
The stage is gone, the lights burned out,
I’m just a shadow of the kid who used to shout,
Growing up’s a slow choke on what I swore I’d be,
A burnout fighter lost in mediocrity.
(Bridge)
I pass the old venue, it’s a vape shop now,
The ghosts of our setlist still echo somehow,
I hum the chorus to a song no one knows,
No more smokes and torn-up clothes.
I wonder if the kid I was would spit in my face,
Or see the fight it took to survive this place,
The rebellion’s quiet, but it’s still in my chest,
A heartbeat tattooed with every chord I pressed.
(Chorus)
I traded power chords for a steady check,
Safety nets for late night sets,
Punk rock veins pumping 9-to-5 blood,
I’m drowning in the quiet where the noise once was.
The stage is gone, the lights burned out,
I’m just a shadow of the kid who used to shout,
Growing up’s a slow choke on what I swore I’d be,
A burnout fighter lost in mediocrity.
(Outro)
So here’s to the nights we’ll never get back,
To the static, the sweat, the all-out attack,
I’m still that kid, just buried alive,
Strumming bar chords in the glow of a 9-to-5
ArtoftheEscape
