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Idlehands
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Nomad Motto
Occur by the nomad motto.
Hit the throttle.
These wolves are here to rip right through another coastal battle.
Impressed with poor role models, blah, ah, oh, oh.
Our lives are smeared across the bar full of hazy babble.
This class has prose, for the sake of being down.
The holes in our clothes are letting out light.
Dysfunction is payback, for our social practice.
We are five offenders of the written standard with nothing left to lose, except allegiance to each other.
This class has prose, for the sake of being down.
The holes in our clothes are letting out light.
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Hey, hey you're sick, subscribe to my membership.
I prayed to the bank and found remains of the new.
We have no space for abrasive talk, with a punk attitude.
Hey, hey you're sick, just not enough to be worth shit.
Get back on the ground.
I want to see you hustle.
Now there's nothing left to do, but toast to the kings that forgot about you.
We are five offenders of the written standard with nothing left to lose, except allegiance to each other.
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