Latin For Truth posts lyrics for upcoming 7 inch, The 95 Sound

Latin For Truth posts lyrics for upcoming 7 inch, The 95 Sound

latin-for-truth-the-95-soundLatin For Truth has posted lyrics to the songs All My Friends Are Creeps And Liars (Except You), Booking Hell/ Two Five Sucks, Glory, Glory Joseph Maxwell and There Used To Be A Marching Band In Your Legs, Now There’s Only Broken Drumsticks At Your Feet. All the songs are featured on the upcoming 7 inch The 95 Sound and is expected to be released in a week or two in some digital stores.

“all my friends are creeps and liars (except you)”

I’ll plagiarize you
cause you’ve written what seems to works
put a leash on your tongue
so I can speak with confidence
We can pretend to laugh till we get what we need
We can fake a smile till our nausea peaks
I will never write anything as well as you’ve written me
there’s nowhere we won’t go
I’ll kill everyone you know
so our town can forget you
pencil you in the linear notes
gravestones wasted in our fans bedrooms
We can pretend to laugh till we get what we need
We can fake a smile till our nausea peaks
I will never write anything as well as you’ve written me
there’s nowhere we won’t go
cruel moon beams keeping my back cool
tell me when my friends plan deceit

“booking hell/ two five sucks”

I want to tour anartica, box polar bears for gas/
the irony is it’s more promising than booking in Birmingham/
city kids just don’t give a shit, why do we love these shows/
we pay bills and quit our jobs, we don’t care we’re fucking broke/
sorry, sorry, you’d never book us anyway/
sorry, sorry, you don’t approve/
sorry, sorry, you’d never book us anyway/
sorry, sorry, you don’t approve/
new city, new cold floor, and mall punks to mock my band/
of course I’m as happy as a pig bleeding to death/
I joke on you like I joke on me and my oldest friends/
you’re not above my humor even with these benediction trends/
sorry, sorry, you’d never book us anyway/
sorry, sorry, you don’t approve/
sorry, sorry, you’d never book us anyway/
sorry, sorry, you don’t approve/
booking hell is hell in itself/
you’re cool like Christmas eve/
booking hell is hell in itself/
long live your scene/
got a head full of problems/
you’re just another name on my list/
give me time, give us a chance/
watch us be the ones who are missed/

“Glory, Glory, Joseph Maxwell”

good times hit black ice
you stepped in and dried the lake
we slide twelve hours home
for once the clouds kept the rain
you saved us from an empty gas tank(die ohio),
you kept us positive(die ohio),
we drove all night(die ohio),
blessed by open ears(die ohio)

“there used to be a marching band in your legs, now there’s only broken drumsticks at your feet.”

I compared myself to guilded lilies, reflections in a urinal/
lately I sympathize and pen fast verses for their lives/
in school you looked regal with your nose so far north/
in four years, we became the same/
there used to be a marching band in your legs, now there’s broken drum sticks at your feet.
Two sick birds, one small worm, where did we divide/
I’m a witness to the line/
like a stain on the shore where the level was/
I’m marked by the cast of sewage/
I blame me/
for my short sight/
we could’ve changed/
but it’s easier to stare/

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