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Remains

from Divest by Steve Layman

/

lyrics

What’s a writer with nothing to say?
A drunk without a cent left to his name?
A man without a cause?
Pitiful & selfish, but aren’t we all?

Too often, we cast hope into the sea;
Take what fits, abandon what can’t be.
You’re safe for now, but what’s the cost?
Is a blank page the worth of everything you’ve lost?

Distance cannot drive a stake between
The written past and fresh uncertainty,
That feeling there is so much more;
The yearning to be someone is inescapable.

You can make sense of the wreckage and debris
Build a stronger frame from your defeats
Burnt synapses and fractured skulls
Take the broken pieces & build a better home.

Or you can build the fences high around your heart,
Blood mixed with cement hold stakes from end to start.
Metal wires twisted sharp;
No decompression, no expansion,
No motion in or out.

What’s a life without the chance to breathe?
Love trapped within fear or a mind feral and free?
Do you give everything, or just enough?
You’re terrified, you’re trying; but aren’t we all?

credits

from Divest, released March 8, 2018

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Steve Layman Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

loner punk written by a lonely person.

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