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Bastards

from Split by Turnspit

/

lyrics

Little sister, don’t you worry.
My dear friend, don’t you cry.
Nothing happens for a reason,
but the outcomes, we define.
It’s gonna hurt like seven hells,
more than you want to admit.
You don’t have to let it kill you.
The wherefores don’t mean shit.

Don’t let the bastards bring you down.
When they chew you up, you gotta make ‘em spit you out.
You might’ve hit the mat, but you’ve still got the count.
And though you’re under attack, you can redouble your redoubt.
Don’t let the bastards bring you down.

Little sister, don’t you worry.
My dear friend, don’t you cry.
It doesn’t matter that you fail,
but that you never fail to try.
Your leaves will blossom slowly,
and drift toward the lawn.
You will live and die a million times
before you are done.

Don’t let the bastards bring you down.
When they chew you up, you gotta make ‘em spit you out.
You might’ve hit the mat, but you’ve still got the count.
And though you’re under attack, you can redouble your redoubt.
Don’t let the bastards bring you down.

I’d like to say it goes away,
but I can’t lie to you.
If you work hard, it gets better,
but that’s the warmest truth.
So fuck the doubt that you may find,
from without and within.
You are more than how they fail you.
You are more than just your sins.

Don’t let the bastards bring you down.
When they chew you up, you gotta make ‘em spit you out.
You might’ve hit the mat, but you’ve still got the count.
And though you’re under attack, you can redouble your redoubt.
Don’t let the bastards bring you down.

credits

from Split, released April 29, 2016

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Turnspit Chicago, Illinois

thoughtful. melodic. midwestern. punk.

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