Social siberia

The road, little friend strip-searched our faith
And broke our bones
It’s hard to lock it up, when it’s hurting over and over
And heals once again.
In broke home
You’re serial numbered, same kind of house
They’re all the same kind adoring the streets
but they need the same cover because they play the same cards.

The sun is set for now, sacred blood hangs around your neck
Sincerely written notes to ode your quest
The sundance kid has blessed your path
Sons of villains hail your sins
The sincerity will be written in the stars.

It’s a short way to hell
The siren is gone
it’s a quick breath to take
but thick air to breath.

In the night when no one is around
Playing with your feelings
like they didn’t know it was there
I know I must get back to under wide wings
It’s time to sober up and pray for cold winds.

In broken home
You’re serial numbered, same kind of whores.
They’re all the same kind adoring the streets
but they need the same cover because they play the same cards.

The sun is set for now, sacred blood hangs around your neck
Sincerely written notes to ode your quest
The sundance kid has blessed your path
Sons of villains hail you sins
The sincerity will be written in the stars.

It’s a short way to hell
The sirens is gone
It’s a quick breath to take
but thick air to breath.