Retch from Fidge by No Matter

Sit back, watch me wilt, stick it in 'til the hilt
Don't worry, don't mind me
A lost unique stare, fucked beyond compare
Got used to misery
Kicked to the street, too drunk to find my feet
Routine broke again
Rotten to the core, back aching from the floor
Daily grind my friend

And nothing goes well when you're living in hell's
Familiar trashy streets.
Is it far fetched, maybe a stretch,
That it makes me want to retch?
I'm burning, I'm burning.

Now take it from this prodigal son,
Don't entertain your thoughts with notions that
You're something I lack,
'Cause nothing could be more false.
Take it somewhere else, to your lies I won't adhere.
Your words reek of sin.
Go vomit foul conjecture in someone else's ear.
Mine are at the brim.

It makes me want to retch.
It makes me want to retch.

• Irish Punk
• Pop Punk
• Punk
• female bassist
• punk rock
• skate punk
• Belfast