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

Or

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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