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Steroid City

by Deadlines

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1.
A generation of wasted space where talk's the only inconvenience. We're adding to the pile, digging out the ditch. It's rooted beneath our feet and we're cutting at the leaves. We're so naive, deluded revolutionaries. You sat back and watched it all collapse from the top. Complaining about idle trivialities doesn't equate to taking a stand. We're so naive, deluded revolutionaries. So naive. We keep jumping forwards, and leaping back. Pulling profits from opposition, from rotting corpses. Misguided and shrouded in indifference. There never was a chance for any room for thought. No room for thought.
2.
Balance 02:00
It starts with a disappearance then everything goes black. Scared of losing balance, you turn and knock down the whole stack. Find something worthwhile, plaster your flag over every wall. Wonder where it came from when you're the ones that created it. This constant display of apathy has stripped us of all of our defiance. You can't even live up to your own examples, trampled, misled. And I'd like to know if it's ignorance or carelessness that's led us to this. Because once again, the ground we stand on is turned over.
3.
Worth 02:46
I found myself screaming at a wall. It's all the same shit that we're swimming in. A life asleep. You can't keep chasing the same few empty goals. We need redefinition not more of these traditions. A life asleep. I swear the only way forwards is admitting that we're not so fucking important. And I know that everything has a price. It's so futile and pathetic that we're wasting away to buy ourselves that we're better than everyone else. Better than everyone else.
4.
Steroid City 04:45
We don't talk without a veil of intoxication, cheap shots and wasted time. Is this needed to confirm that you exist? It won't ever take enough. We're stabbing at our empty deflated lives. Where do you draw the line? This is nothing new it's been seen and done. Dismissal of anything outside of your field of view. To notice this disaffected mess that surrounds your swollen head. It won't ever take enough. Inflated, degraded, self-anesthetized relief. Concealed for the evening. My only reason to be. A tired thorn in my side, you're a waste of time. Living just to run others into the ground. Inflated, degraded, self-anesthetized relief. Concealed for the evening. My only reason to be.

credits

released May 29, 2014

Recorded and mixed by Scott Rockingham, mastered by Carl Saff at Saff Mastering, Chicago. Artwork by Ed Millo.

We have tapes at shows (limited to 50 on orange). Order online from What We Should Be Doing (whatweshouldbedoing.bandcamp.com check out all of their other releases too!)

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Deadlines Cardiff, UK

Aggro pop-punk. Formed late 2013.

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