We've got Glue..

Our reality it lives in dreams, we don’t have the chances that you do.

Our stepping stones are pebble thin our clothes are old and there’s holes in our shoes.

Our thoughts are of the day to day, we don’t have a choice to pick and choose.

No chance of a holiday our lives are painted several shades of blue.

You judge us like we’re all the same but you don’t have a single fucking clue.

So while you’re sailing far away we’re stuck here in the mire and the gloom.

Lines of general purpose love make up for days spent living in this tomb-

-Looking at the walls with nothing but a single shattered mirror in my room.


You’ll never see life through our eyes that water dry it pains me but it’s true.

Your feathered nest so comfortable compared to mine both colourless and blue.

Johnny Thunders said it best, like him I’m bound alone and born to loose.

Our options fairly limited to cancer sticks and discount brandless booze.

A fucked up fact that is our lot, the only path we’ll ever have to choose.
You walk the walk and talk the talk whilst never walking truly in our shoes.

Our picture frames old and worn like images etched upon our skin.

All you’ll find is emptiness and pain so sharp buried deep within.

Rusty razors tempt us so, the only way we can let go-

-and free the pain deep down below and blood let ‘till the feelings go.
Make your choices; take your time while we plug holes with petty crime.

You’ll scratch your heads, you have no clue so fuck you all ‘cause we’ve got glue.