Black Lungs from Split 2016 by haas

We're walking in circles, but we stand still in the momentum. We would sway forth but the wind is far from harsh, so I have to manage and "relapse." The earth is trembling under my feet and the grays are speaking to me in incoherent words and I can't hear, and I can't read, but I can see. We are pulled by our ankles when we barely feel alive like a bird with no wings and a sailboat without light. Diluted; into a single atom that which we cannot split, the consequences would be far too farfetched. Anxiously waiting on the return of an old friend. Maybe I wasn't clear enough, but these poorly worded confessions have stated the simplicity of confinement in my heart, and the architecture that takes place. I still fathom what we are and what we are meant to do. Oh black lungs, I have searched far and wide for repentance, but my friend, you're still there by my side, I just wish you never were. My thoughts would look better splattered on the wall, I'm not scared (I'm unprepared). Black lungs; I've been scared since I was twelve, but you never really cared. Oh a saint you are Ms. Nicotine. Nothing's well I bid farewell; black lungs.

• Punk
• diy
• emo
• powerviolence
• punk
• screamo
• El Centro