Take what you feel inside of this room and break away I’ll bring the feeling of this moment when I leave Envision what life could be If we move beyond comfort and ability We’ll rot in this tomb until we start to move No one is handing “change” our way Facing each day with so much to say and in the absence of action Even our screams are worth something What we want we must create what we risk will be regained What we’d assume we must forsake what’s been destroyed… What have we done? What do i know? How far are you willing to go? Never restricted by who i’m suppossed to be Looking beyond all that i can see to make this a movement again instead of only a scene Do you realize what that means? What we make of this energy is everything and in the absence of passion Our screams are worth nothing What we want we must create What we risk will be regained What we’d assume we must forsake What’s been destroyed can be replaced Too many years spent “screaming for change” and i see now that what remains Is the time that I give and the chances I take in the way that I live and the choices I make!
I really do not know. My life has more or less been a mess of musical memories since I was 13 years old. I think the moment that music, specifically punk music had a huge profound impact on me was when I was 13 watching an old HBO show called “Reverb” which was just video of concerts. I was already into Blink-182 and Mxpx at the time but on the show was Joe Strummer and The Mescaleros. They were playing mostly songs by The Clash and when “London Calling” came on my mind was blown. Just that opening guitar riff did and still does give me chills. I will always love that song.
Every so often I keep my senses checked I’m such a wreck if I lose direction So what if… I should consider self-help Late nights to interrogate myself Burning paths between my bedroom and the bar A finer place to start…
Picking out my poisons from the wall There’s a war inside my head I’d say I’m getting used to it
Some nights well spent I’m never sold on self-help I’m too fresh to interrogate myself When I have the strength to crawl back into bed
I’m writing lists in notebooks I’m organizing every word But less forgetful in dividing lines You called me right on time
I’m picking out my poisons from the wall There’s a war inside my head I’d say I’m getting used to it I’m getting over it I’m getting back in bed
We all seem overwhelmed Keeping time will never tell I really shouldn’t stay I should be proper for a change
Every so often I need my senses checked When I have the strength to crawl into your bed I’ll change my plans instead
This is a night worth saving I will pour my doubts onto the floor And wear away the pavement Between my back porch and your door
Do you think that I should stay? I need to be proper for a change…