Built from Bruises
We built this out of bruises
from the nights we went home broke
throats raw and raspy
from the screaming and the smoke
Stacked the failures high like speakers
to reach the heavy sky
singing with the stray dogs
while the cars go driving by
No silver spoons for us
just chipped teeth and the chord
ringing over factories
that we can’t afford
They told us keep it down
we made the hallway shake
laughter hitting walls
until the plaster starts to break
They handed out the flyers
the lines all drawn in straight
promising a future
if we just accept the wait
We looked at all the maps
with eyes already red
folded them to airplanes
and aimed at them instead
Security came running
chasing us outside
but those paper wings flew higher
than the places where they hide
Kids in the lot
with the instruments cheap and old
standing in the puddles
and shivering in cold
Sneakers full of mud
the hoodies soaking through
hearts wired together
by the nothing left to do
No money coming in
just plans on napkins drawn
stained with soda circles
and waiting for the dawn
We planted flags in asphalt
cracks upon the ground
swearing that this corner
would remember what we found
Scars upon the knees
from running from the light
jumping over fences
in the middle of the night
Every empty bar
every note that went away
carved out the shape
of who we are today
One friend quit the band
to keep the lights on overhead
another working shifts
that leave him feeling mostly dead
We keep a space in every song
for ghosts who wanted in
but couldn’t push the heavy weight
or take it on the chin
Their names are living
in the feedback and the rhythm there
turning all the grief
into a noise that tears the air
Kids inside the crowd
are mouthing lines like secret code
like every rhyme is carrying
the heavy of the load
When the lights cut out
and the venue clears the floor
when the morning job is waiting
at the grocery door
We carry just the sound
of one kid crying in the back
singing every word along
and keeping on the track
Not money or the fame
just proof we aren’t wrong
that someone heard the message
in the middle of the song
When they ask where it began
tell them of the wet concrete
hands that shook from coffee
and the lack of decent heat
Not from being scared
but from the voltage in the chest
hearts that never fit the mold
or passed the standard test