i swear these hands are blessed to make one hell of a mess. im a soldier of misfortune fighting a war against self torture. im losing it, my head has seen better days. i try to be a better man but im stuck in my arrogant ways. break my back to make things right, but you believe its all an act. yet when i find a secret buried, you hold a shovel behind your back. im keeping my chin up, taking this life in stride. i dont have no ghosts, no skeletons, no demons left to hide. i told myself i’d shake them off, i’d walk forever if i must. truth is, ive walked so damn long that i’ve ground my bones down into dust. i like to believe that everything works out in the end. it’s a little easier to believe when you surround yourself with friends.
this is how is turned out. im not even the vocalist, i just like to write.
i havent thought of a name but ive been tossing around a couple. i was thinking on Nicoteen Pregnancy.