1. |
Last September (Demo)
02:28
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Lets write song about love! Lets pretend like we’re dreaming when we’ve just woken up
We Can’t quite fake a smile cuz it might take a while, and being happy’s contingent on luck
Lets set something on fire! Lets commit to ideas based on shallow desire.
We’re awkward and bored, as the doctors ensured, we chase chaos & never get tired
Let’s abandon our homes! Lets all move to New York so we’re never alone
Lets follow our dreams like ambitious machines, til we burn out or turn into stone.
Well we’re here, and we’re honest, sometimes pessimist at heart
born again from second chances and a world that fell apart
while we’re here, we’ll be honest, we’ve been better off before.
But our ghosts from last September just keep knocking on our door.
Lets Drink poison and cry! Let’s consume til the fumes eat us up from inside
live punk-rock right until, the fun stops and it will, and we fade out still wondering why
Let’s embody the worst, make an album about them strictly off power chords
Let’s conquer the world off of songs about girls, and intentions immune to remorse
Well we’re here, and we’re honest, sometimes pessimist at heart
born again from second chances and a world that fell apart
while we’re here, we’ll be honest, we’ve been better off before.
But our ghosts from last September just keep knocking on our door.
Let’s write songs about love, Let’s pretend like we’re fine when we’ve just given up
The stories we tell transcends glory & hell through perspectives explicitly just
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2. |
Overture (Demo)
04:32
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I am a vigil of the evening skies, watching over your thoughts, until the metaphor dies
Counting Down From Three before you disgust me, tracing out the mind of the enemy.
Through Thoughts unspoken, dead and broken, give me a reason to believe
That you’ll come around, before we’re all bound, to go down, down, down, you see.
And as I sit at home and write the generic thoughts to a pathetic life,
My mind drags me up and down the lines, without a single hint or sign
Of being better than this, or being able to move past the ignorance
that makes up this bitter town here, and most of the fucks I end up near.
Without a Sound, I’ll spew an overture
that breaks the ground, for the immature
And it gets me so down,
that this will never cease, and I’m outnumbered to say the least
I’ll lay six words on the table, what are you trying to do
you’re unstable, and so far from the truth
Just a few more words, and a breath and a half
to say you’re the worst scum this world has had
And I watch it through bloodshot eyes, hating this world, and waiting for its demise
but if it’s criticism that you fear, I’ll shout again so you can hear
Without a Sound, I’ll spew an overture
that breaks the ground, for the immature
And it gets me so down,
that this will never cease, and I’m outnumbered to say the least, to say the least
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3. |
Sweet Apathy (Demo)
04:30
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I spent the night, in a state of fright, burning out through doubt, suppressing appetite
Such a climactic chase, leaves me a basket case, convulsing to the beat of disgrace
I paint these hallways with the broken swears from the complaints I always cut from my affairs,
and when I sit back down, my pupils hit the ground, grasping for answers that I haven’t found
when you have fun, you’re a social strum, while my face and fingertips burn red and numb.
upon this angst I sit, one more climactic hit, abhor the tragic case called getting over it.
Apathy, sweet apathy, my futile lash at thee.
This conquered gaze that haunts for days will make you pity me.
Bore slightly and persist, for quite the anarchist,
I should have knocked on wood I’m shocked I stood so close to this.
I hope you know, you’re an idiot. Your aesthetic goes to fully contradict
your range of common sense, that claims its innocence, and turned me out to pout and repent
But nonetheless, I’ll make it on your list, as the undone, obsessed compulsive masochist.
Unhatched its who I am, but scratched into my plan, I fit the frame of a saner man.
I played your game, through all the rage and shame I learned to take it easy or end up insane.
I feel the lust and hurt, from my meal of dust and dirt, concealed in trust I thus portray the introvert.
Apathy, sweet apathy, my futile lash at thee.
This conquered gaze i flaunt for days will make you pity me.
Bore slightly and persist, for quite the anarchist,
I should have knocked on wood I’m shocked I stood so close to this.
And when you talk to them, I unblock my phlegm,
one more jealous twitch upon which I’m condemned
With thirst you’ll move along, in search of smooth and strong,
Leave me to rot in thought of what on earth went wrong
I hope you know you’re an idiot, your aesthetic glows and yet you lack the wit
to realize what was meant, despite those cursed events that brought our tainted run to its end
I hope you know you’re an idiot, your aesthetic bodes a grace that doesn’t depict
your inner disconnect this is my void attempt to counteract all the compliments
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4. |
Misanthrope (Demo)
03:07
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Make a sign, be sure to build it to last. Here we find the finest genre of trash.
Covered in a layer of pretentious disguise. I’m smart enough to know their filth will be their demise.
Less like a human, from the size of his head. More like a maggot the way she feeds on the dead.
I keep seeing traces of ignorance and stupidity. And I’ll try my hardest not to let it get to me.
But these kids, from caves they crawl. And the truth is I hate them all.
So I’ll hold my breath ‘til death or July, but I’ll still die a misanthrope.
So I’ll stay away from you for as long as I can, Avoiding eye contact and conversation.
‘cuz to be honest I don’t feel like getting mad, and the anxiety you all give me is bad.
Cuz these kids, from caves they crawl. And the truth is I hate them all.
So I’ll hold my breath ‘til death or July, but I’ll still die a misanthrope.
So I’ll fade into the night, where they can’t find me.
But every day that passes by, they’re still there to remind me.
Cuz these kids, from caves they crawl. And the truth is I hate them all.
So I’ll hold my breath ‘til death or July, but I’ll still die a misanthrope.
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5. |
Post Summer Rain (Demo)
03:52
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6. |
Watch Your Luck (Demo)
04:29
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A Crash Republic Boston, Massachusetts
A Crash Republic is a Boston based pop punk band aimed at telling stories that transcend glory and hell through perspectives explicitly just.
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