Not same as before, locked down no escape
Your heard hurts hard, throbs in straight
Rescue you from roads of pain

Grime in the back of your brain break glass just to feel sane
It's alright to see our lives pass you by
Over you we step on glass with broken teeth

It's so true, empty bottles and lust tattoos
New punk tombs
Mains a street of shame and hastings a waste of life

Broadway take the eastbound to 1342