Plastic Swords from Maluck by Maluck

No shoes and plastic swords and you,
were fighting invisible enemies.
At least not any that I could see.
But we marched on dutifully.
To a place where a faithful few were fathered in.
A place where you can be safe from your potential,
let it go to waste.

High stress and rubber checks, and I
I'm bowing down to my vices.
It feels so nice to be crippled at times.

The second son of the mother
The only name of the father
Fell in line with the brother
and detatched from all of the other ones.

Our legs are moving in the dark, our lungs are working more and more.
You are an olive branch
I rang the drums of war

I know what I am isn't what I was before
An ego driven maniac that I've been sprinting towards
Our legs are moving in the dark
Our tongues are working more and more.

• Alternative
• Rock
• alternative rock
• indie
• indie rock
• shoegaze
• Elyria