If I could take the time to give you part of me,
The one that never forgives myself for always failing,
Then I would ask you to stay, sit and absorb the thought,
That we will never be more than the dirt on our feet.
The hope is weakening now, like a violin string,
The tension all too much to produce anything.
The notes are souring now, the voices wrought with despair.
I used to love the truth, but the lies were unfair.
I used to stretch out on the pews of the church,
Resting my head on my knees,
And pray that the worst would miss me.
But no less than six years ago,
When I asked if you thought if it all was for show,
Were you listening?
And you said:
“Start caring, feel better,” you said.
“Start caring, it’ll quiet your head.”
“Start caring, they need to be led.”
“Start caring,” but I gave up instead.
When I look past the tape, and see the crime isn’t new,
I could lay in the chalk outline next to you.
When the zipper is pulled from my toes to my scalp,
I’ll see that nothing awaits, and erase all doubt.
“Stop caring, feel better,” I said.
“Stop caring, it’ll quiet your head.”
“Stop caring, for all you knew is dead.”
“Stop caring, just give up instead.”
supported by 18 fans who also own “Trouble Breathing”
What a damn solid record! It's the perfect example of why I'm certain that Ska Punk is going to play on the highlight reel when I hit up the afterlife. Scott
Toronto band Respire deliver a post-hardcore tour de force on the largest scale possible, orchestrally rich and incessantly uncompromising. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 6, 2021