Suburbist Lyrics

Suburbist lost his way many years into play, pounding a
dead end route devoid of clarity. Suburbist lends his
ear, but no one's ever here to help him turn another way.
Time to let this one stew and find nothing new. Some
scenes only rub more slat into your mood. Suburbist can
only accept this drudgery, give up all ambitions and cry:
"Sometimes this place has nothing left to offer.
Sometimes I feel like I don't exist. I load it up and
follow it through, then pick the shrapnel from my foot. My friends can try and analyse but when all is said and
all is done - sometimes being here just isn't fun." The
station's a good place to sit and make a face at the
commuters as they board for the city. Suburbist won't fit
there, where all he hears is foreign dialect and only
some shades of grey. I find it hard just making sense,
let alone trying to keep a clear head. Sit back, enjoy
this way of life for all the beauty it denies.

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