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Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Mitch Houle at the Piss Factory.
The air is harsh, it hurts my lungs
Beyond the fake clouds, stars are shun
They say the city has no life
But through the smoke, it's kind of nice
Why must I always sabotage?
Everyday burnt out's a day lost
Sometimes I wish that I'd escape
But other times I'm glad I stayed
Lost so much sleep, I can't relax
I pulled the muscles in my back
It looks so hopeless, but it's not
Sometimes it feels it's all I've got