Exit Bag


Exit Bag


air conditioned nightmare, cold sweat 
can’t help it — never lose a bet 
Suburbs? Where the fuck’s that, kid? 
Mile from the county line but we gotta walk so we take our time 
Returned and I felt as id always felt: 
Not a word, but a gag, then it never fails — 
God’s green earth won’t miss it, barely permits it 
what the fuck’s missing? 
dismissing, reminiscing: 
bygone age. shit-start. teenage. 
motherfucking hate this place. 
hit this nose, hit this nose 
fuck it now break, break 
not right in my neighbor- 

Asphalt rippin our tires theres no way we can make it 
spraypainted “fuck this fucken place” i hope you never escape it 
See you in the suburbs where the fuck’s that? about a mile away from me 
Toss this piece of shit bike to its death the tracks quickly ate it 

gonna make you wanna make me make examples of you 
i dont think you wanna know what happens from here 

Maybe a little bit of fascism ain’t so bad 
Sound of that got you piss your pants? 
Every face you see got a victim mask 
Hit your pacifier and the pause button 
Hit the pause button, you bitch 

Can never go home ’cause it’s all 
Washed down with the rain through a filth-clogged drain 
and it never comes back once it’s gone away: 
spit into your face with this, the imagery, sound 
all the way, all the way, all the way 
deep deep down