1. |
Black Crows
05:40
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Six black crows fly overhead
The underlying feeling that there’s danger up ahead
Swerve our way through traffic
Like another demographic
Trying to ignore the sense of dread
Will our worlds come to a standstill?
When we’re old and lose the feeling of thrill?
Will the six crows all be shot down by a loose cannon looking for a kill?
I wanna rush the halls and pretend I’m someone I’m not
I wanna stand in line until it’s my time to be caught
I’m wearing a mask to hide the deadhead hidden inside
I’m faking a smile in the back of another controlled joyride
The world is not enough
When you are sick of acting tough
And they will start to call your bluff
Will you ever find a saviour?
When your comely behaviour
Starts doing you disfavours
I wanna rush the halls and pretend I’m someone I’m not
I wanna stand in line until it’s my time to be caught
I’m wearing a mask to hide the deadhead hidden inside
I’m faking a smile in the back of another controlled joyride
I’m firing blanks into the sun
Night will fall by the time I’m done
What’s the point in a war when you’ve already won
And the aftermath has already begun
I wanna rush the halls and pretend I’m someone I’m not
I wanna stand in line until it’s my time to be caught
I’m wearing a mask to hide the deadhead hidden inside
I’m faking a smile in the back of another controlled joyride
Six black crows fly overhead
Proof that this is already dead
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2. |
Skumbag
04:31
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Exponential bullshit of an unknown degree
I bet no-one is wondering why I’d rather flee
Than be a part of people who believe they’re doing god’s business
Or is that just an excuse to act all cruel and vicious
Hating people just because they have different views
In the end will they be the ones who lose
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
Burn all the heathens and the rest of them too
Call tragedies good bid the dead adieu
Hypocritical lives with hypocritical views
Walking away is a god-damned coup
I’m-a live in a world where the skies shine blue
In the end will they be the ones to lose
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
A stoner, a moaner, a merciless groaner
Are words that they call me.
A drag, a fag, a lost scumbag
I guess that’s the price of being able to see
A stoner, a moaner, a merciless groaner
Are words that they call me.
A drag, a fag, a lost scumbag
I guess that’s the price of being able to see
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
I need something
There to hold onto to keep me floating
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Chris Holland Portsmouth, UK
Portsmouth based singer/songwriter Chris Holland consistently subverts expectations and blends a vast array of genres and
sounds together including Indie Rock, Folk, Pop, Synthpop and Emo.
His new album 'Abyss of Eternity' sees him working with the elusive virtual band 'Material Panic' looking to warn the world of the societal/economical dangers we pose to ourselves.
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