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DEAD FRIENDS

from LOSE YOUR GRIP EP by SICK MINDS

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lyrics

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.

credits

from LOSE YOUR GRIP EP, released December 12, 2017

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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.

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