Lite av mitt liv.

chairs thrown and tables toppled
hands armed with broken bottles
standing no chance to win but
we're not running, we're not running

theres a point i think we're missin
its in the air we raise our fists in
in the smiles we cast each other
my sister, my brother

how bout the time we gave up hope and
we never find these locks still open
stumbling on stones unturned
the hurt we fear with our heaven

the lives we crossed in search of change
but all they see is treason

although we have no obligation
to stay alive
on broken backs we beg for mercy
we will survive
break out, i wont be left here
behind closed doors


JAG ÄLSKAR RISE AGAINST. <3