LOSE YOUR GRIP EP

by SICK MINDS

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
2.
02:34
3.
02:17
4.
02:57

credits

released December 12, 2017

Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Sean Fitzpatrick at The Brick HitHouse.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

SICK MINDS Boston, Massachusetts

Boston hardcore band with members of RAT TRAP, Taxi Driver, Kimachi and Swept Away.

For fans of Comeback Kid and Paint it Black.

contact / help

Contact SICK MINDS

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

Track Name: LOSE YOUR GRIP
Depression has its grip on me, I shake it off but I'm still not free.
Open my eyes, I can finally see, the world is not what I thought it'd be.
My brain don't work like I thought it would. I live in fear and wish I could,
Take a swing at reality, shatter every fucking thing I see.

Where were you when it came crashing down, hiding there with your head in the ground?
A life lived blind to the world outside, a place where you're just waiting to die.
Take a swing at reality, shatter the world escape the gravity,
Of what it means to be mortal. We're all fucked and life is brutal.

Just let go, lose your grip.
Let it go, lose your grip.
Slip into it, lose your grip.
Slip into it, lose your grip.
Track Name: NO FUTURE
Every day still feels the same,
Nothing changes anyway.
Same old story, same old shit.
Just holding on, can't get a grip.

I'm out.
Giving up.
I'm out.

Can you hear it, the violent silence? The one that worms inside your head?
Moving forward with no guidance, holding on by just a thread.

Can you feel it, the endless burden the one that weighs you down like lead?
Every step becomes uncertain, you'll feel empty until you're dead.

Nothing survives.
Nothing survives.

Broken homes built with shattered bones, where lonely souls wander on their own.
Broken homes built with shattered bones, where lonely souls wander on their own.

They said the future is ours, but it's already shit.
This world is a coffin, and they shut the lid.
A generation of kids, that are left out to starve.
Cause the American Dream is dead and gone.
Track Name: DEAD FRIENDS
No heart, no soul. Fuck you, die slow.
No heart, no soul. Fuck you, die slow.

We were tight through thick and thin, but something snapped, afraid of losing of skin.
The years have changed you for the worse, now panic grips you like a curse.
Those sob stories are growing old, you lost the plot the trail is running cold.
You took a chance, you sold me out. Threw me away, without a doubt.

Fuck that I won't do it again, you stepped on my neck to get ahead.
Now you sing about suicide, I'm here waiting for you to die.

All you do is talk.
But you got nothing to say.
Just make a fucking change.
You are dead to me.

The pressure's sinking in.
Your skin is paper thin.
I watch you fucking break
You are dead to me.

I thought that we through,
But just like shit on a shoe,
you're fucking stuck to me.
You are dead to me.

All you do is talk.
But you got nothing to say.
Just make a fucking change.
You are dead to me.

The pressure's sinking in.
Your skin is paper thin.
I watch you fucking break
You are dead to me.

The time is flying by
The minutes slip away
Tick-tock bitch.
You are dead to me.
You are dead to me.
Track Name: BLOOD MONEY
You trade in pain, shot through a needle.
Your punishment should fit the crime.
You fill your coffers, by filling coffins.
Profit on every kid that dies.

You're a murderer, a fucking coward.
You're a murderer, a fucking coward.

Count that blood money, is this what you wanted?
Feed off the bottom, you're nothing more than a leech.

Bottom of the barrel, still spewing poison.
Killed off our friends, when is your time to die?

Fuck your blood money.
Fuck what you love.
Fuck your life.

Fuck your blood money.
Fuck what you love.
Fuck your life.

You're counting bills, it's all blood money. Hope it keeps you warm in hell.
Bury you, and your bullshit, this is where your kind should dwell.

You're counting bills, it's all blood money. Hope it keeps you warm in hell.
Bury you, and your bullshit, that is where your kind should dwell.

If you like SICK MINDS, you may also like: