ONE DEAD THREE WOUNDED LYRICS

1. Planning Obsolescence

We've been planning our obsolescence
Would you dance on our defeat when we plan our death in a week?
We've been planning with every word we're confessing
Will you meet me in the streets when these songs are obsolete?

By the time you read this we'll be. We'll be gone.
Someone keep my blood pumping longer than this van in running
Someone keep my legs kicking longer than this disc is spinning
You'll learn to love this much more than your legs

If your curiosity ain't quenched after this town
You'll be searching the whole damn world for a new fucking cure

Will I meet you in the streets on the night of our defeat?
Will I meet you in the streets when these songs are obsolete?

I hope that sweet heart is pumping longer than this van in running
I hope our legs will be kicking longer than this disc is spinning
I hope those lungs will be breathing longer than us fools are screaming
I hope those lips will keep singing louder than this noise we're bringing

I'll meet you there.
In our adult matured despair
I'll meet you halfway there
In our delusions, dreams, and fears
I'll meet you halfway there
We are buried in our years

We've been planning our obsolescence
Would you dance on our defeat when we plan our death in a week?
We've been planning with every word we're confessing
Will you meet me in the streets when these songs are obsolete?

2. Blackholes

Hey kid listen, I'm trying to tell you about the human condition
You are your own black hole.

Hey kid listen, I'm giving depth to your flat world vision.
You are your own black hole.

Disown what you cant control
You are your own black hole

Silence, can you hear it?
Its the sound of a man without spirit.
And the walls keep crumbling down around a self made victim.
I got this rope to pull you up but I cant save you if you wont grab a hold.
I cant save you if you wont save yourself.

I tried to heal your heart.
I tried to sail your shipwreck in the dark

This is the fine art of swinging and missing.
This is the fine art of sinking and swimming.

You see, it takes time to find a balance in such things.

You'll learn the fine art of crossing burnt bridges.

Old friend, fight physics.
Forget the cynicism in my lyrics.
You and I will laugh one day at our foolish mistakes.
With my bare hands, I will dig you out.
But I cant save you if you wont grab a hold.
I cant love you if you wont love yourself.

Hey kid, listen. Just don't suck me in.

3. Moving Units

This noise won't get far. If it reverberates off the wall.
And a decibel escapes the hall. It won't be heard at all.

Don't move.
Stay where you are. This world will tear you apart.
Moving Units means more than the art.
Sound scans weigh more than your heart.

Take what you've learned and go.
Just know a tank of gas won't distance you from the reality of things.

I can't save you and you can't save me from this.
If you ain't moving units as fast as the rest of them.
This noise won't get far. It won't escape this hall.
These are ugly songs ugly kids will only sing along.

Do I sound sincere on a compact disc?
As if sincerity had anything to do with it.
When you sell your soul, you take your check to the band
If you're aiming at the right audience. You will sell your soul
And take the check to the bank
If you stop aiming then I can save you and you can save me from this
We are the moving units.
Moving units
Moving units

4. Soldiers

I haven't had the time to write in such desperate times
So I'll begin.
I wore out my lungs today. Been screaming for this to change.
Nothing but hot air ever reached your brain.
I calmed myself to disprove the glory of your American Dream.
Tonight we try to win the crowd for gasoline.

I broke my first on walls. She said it proved nothing at all.
I hope these battered halls prevent the costs of war. Yet the prices soar.
I bit my lip, waved goodbye, wrote off your debts in a single line.
Choked on the words I couldn't tell. Broke the vows we used to sell.

I've been wondering.
Why do the heartbeats of this city sound like noise to you?

I've been fighting my eyelids to stay inside my head
I've been battling the blitstering cold with caffine and chapped lips.
I've been chasing lover's dreams up the wrong stairs in a house made of stone and glass
In a town where no one cares.

I broke my first on walls. She said it proved nothing at all.
I hope these battered halls prevent the costs of war. Yet the prices soar.
I bit my lip, waved goodbye, wrote off your debts in a single line.
Choked on the words I couldn't tell. Broke the vows we used to sell.

I will scream these words like a loaded gun
I've been holding it in. It's got to come out.
It won't encroach on your speech.
It won't impose any harm
And if I die tonight as least I left you a song
Why do the heartbeats of this city sound like music to you?
Please don't fight this war for me or your delusions of domestic security.

5. Cold Wars

Apparently I got world war three inside of me
I got a fucking war in me
Dear Tim, stop screaming. Who the fuck do you think you're convincing?
You keep screaming about the things that you won't change.
You keep screaming about the worst things in your brain

Your El trains only illuminate bad scenes
Your own brain creates the war you wage
No, I think I did it again. I wrote about my pain with a pen
No, I think I did it again. I wrote about the worst things in my head
Yeah, I think we got a whole fucking lot to learn

Dear Tim, stop screaming. Who the fuck do you think you're convincing?
You keep screaming about the things that you won't change.
You keep screaming about the worst things in your brain
Your El trains only illuminate bad scenes
Your own brain creates the war

When will you figure it out?
You find comfort in these cynical songs.
And if that's where you've been then it's where you belong
Right now I'd rather play guitar than sing
To avoid all the bad news I feel so compelled to bring
To avoid all the sad song I feel so compelled to say

Dear Tim, stop screaming. Who the fuck do you think you're convincing?
You keep screaming about the things that you won't change.
You keep screaming about the worst things in your brain
Your El trains only illuminate bad scenes
Your own brain creates the war
I got world war three

6. Cardia

We've been living off your pulse in the abscence of light
The only sensation we feel is the draft for the freezing outside
Our eyes glance at the clock, waiting for the munites to move
Bathed in digital light that paints everything in view.
We've spent those past few years contemplating an escape
If death is the consequence it's a chance we take.

Open your eyes. Flash your brights. Ignore octagon shaped signs.
You're fucking drowsy if you think this drive will get you further than our street.
You're fucking drowsy if you think this torch will burn precisely as you seek.
You ask how the fuck do our hearts beats so long untouched and the beauty of it...
Trite, awkward gestures frame the canvas of what we claim to be.
Night driving so long we are in the furthest points of a car.
Night driving for so long sitting in the furthest points of a car.
watching the cob webs grow from wall to wall

You asked for my thoughts on the politics of whether God exists or not.
We live our lives by dialogues on bathroom stalls.

You ask how the fuck do our hearts beats so long untouched and the beauty of it...
Trite, awkward gestures frame the canvas of what we claim to be.

Open your eyes. Flash your brights.Ignore octagon shaped signs.
You're fucking drowsy if you think this drive will get you further than our street.
You're fucking drowsy if you think this torch will burn precisely as you seek.

Open your eyes if you think that this torch will do anything
more than infect old sores and heat up cold wars
Open your eyes if you think that this torch will do anything
more than infect old sores and heat up cold wars

Up go our hopes like smoke from the cigarettes in a bar
The only reason we breath is cause the pure air is sparce

7. Pretty Faces, Shitty Places

Highway miles make you far from me
On these highways you'll find some pretty faces
dispersed among the most desolute places
A million miles from hometown empbraces
You'll find warmth in the arms of perfect strangers
To the floor in pieces
Some songs will resurrect feelings lost in a town you left
Till I sleep on your floor again
Here's a song for the back of your head
Pretty faces. Shitty places. Pretty faces.
and we're walking out the door.
I feel the red lights. I hear the sound waves end.
I see two honest eyes in the crowd of heads
Pretty faces in a crowd. Shitty places in a town.
I broke my throat screaming at these faces
I fell in love with the sound of abandoned spaces
Cell phones don't reach home. It's okay we ain't alone
It's okay cause for once we ain't alone

Some songs will resurrect feelings lost in a town you left
Till I sleep on your floor again
Here's a song for the back of your head
Pretty faces. Shitty places. Pretty faces.
Pretty faces in a crowd. Shitty places in a town.
So long, we're gone. We're out.

8. We're Broke Till Payday

Sometimes it seems, kids like you and me learn failure at too young of an age
Before the blue blood leaks red from our veins.
I got some advice for your runaway types for you lifelong escapists.
Jesus Christ won't save us.

My feet ache from an eight hour day of servitude slavery.
I got filthy blood in my veins and this dirt poor DNA.
Digging ditches from our graves on a working man's wage.

If I was born to be you, if I was born to fit your shoes.
I'll count my blessings after I count what I lose.
We're broke till payday.

I spent my last few bucks on a tank of gas and coffee.
I hope it keeps us up.
We'll drive until we're empty till things ain't quite so bad.
I hope that these miles medicate our heads.

Don't carry the blame, we only disconnect to stay sane.
Kids like us run away to stay sane.
If it wasn't so cold outside and Philadelphia wasn't quite so wide, I might just run away from my fate.
Watch as my legs break in the chase.

So tell me tales of your ambitious plans,
but break them down for a simple man
cause kids like us won't see those lands.
Someday we'll be something, someday we'll be something more.

9. Compassionate Assassins

As compaionate assassins we're indecisive in matters of love and war
We tend to forget the places we've explored
and of the opportunties we fail to seize
We'll do our best to ignore
And our failed revolutions, none will be mourned

Because we bought the right guns for the wrong wars

You know I'll wake up yearning for change thinking from the synapses in the stem of brain
The risks are understood by then you're gone for good.
So just take a second to breathe and habituate to the pain

Our lives are engrained in pictures of passing trains
Our lives are enframed in the stillness of a placid page
But you get use to the stillness of a fucking stagnany life.
Some of us are moving or at least we're trying.
Swallow your delusions and hold them inside
Digest the combination of false hope and swallowed pride

You know I'll wake up yearning for change thinking from the synapses in the stem of brain
The risks are understood by then you're gone for good.
So just take a second to breathe and habituate to the pain
Our lives are engrained in pictures of passing trains
Our lives are enframed in the stillness of a placid page
And of our failed revolutions, none will be mourned

10. Bad Business

Were fucked. This is Business.
We will choke without a witness.

As a man you stand six feet high evolving a million years in a downward spiral.
Cheap smiles wont hide the lie of love upon the bottom line we sign

Stop searching for heartbeats in graveyards. They don't exist down here.
Stop searching for canaries in coal mines. They don't exist around here.

Deathbeds of old faithful friends. They are victims of your industry.
You stole their reason to breathe when you stole their reason to scream.

We are the ugly. We are the tired. We are overworked and uninspired.
Don't look me in the eye; I lost faith in the sound from your criminal lies

This is business. Just business. Who gives a fuck about your opinion?

If this is punk rock were fucked.







ONE DEAD THREE WOUNDED LYRICS