Bastard Small Town Syndrome

Trails of breadcrumbs, of broken hearts

Love that’s over before it starts

Loyal lovers and cheating tarts


In a town of broken promises

Folks of such promiscuousness

And drugs that buzz you to your brain


Pain relief straight to the vein


Or cheeky chaps

In baseball caps

That soon would stick you with a blade

No fear of jail, they’re not afraid


Their life is shit, so what is prison?

There barely even is a schism


Dreams that do become a silence

Instead they scheme and involve in violence


And related cycles

Of young disciples

Passing down their reputations

Of sentences and probations


What a town, to behold

Criminality paved in gold

No one dares to break the mould


False bravery

Where are the bold?

A sin of conformity

And selfish priority


The bastard small town syndrome




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