Skitz Wizards - Concrete Mass
Concrete massLooking through the glass
In the street
People always moving fast
So much hate, machine running
Money pumping, never stopping
Where the fingers get pointed we go
No grasp on control, worked to the bone
The masses of people, on concrete they roam
A place they call home
A place they call home
I was raised, to read a road map
In the city, caught in a mouse trap
Never contemplate what I could've been
Get on my bike to go clean up shit
Don't think, have a drink
And stumble down the alleyway
Catch a bus, pay a fare
And forget about the decayed state
Concrete paved
Concrete mass your home and your grave
Written by:
Louis Paulson, Luke Reynolds
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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