Neighbourhood Fatigue from Stale Mates by Yachtburner

Sewn together, by plot of the land,
Window to window, ugly hand in hand,
There's a hope but it's not enough,
In the storm, we will save our home.
Door to door, ugly nose to nose
There's a bone to pick, there's no room to live.
In a forced world, with broken thrones,
Screaming our rights in the wrong tones,
Walls seem to thin, the end begins
Two seats in the circle, One for each,
The lines cross before they meet,
Two men enter, no hope leaves.
One by scheming, not our own.
Bad blood runs down, down to the bone.
Drawn together, we got the doom of the well.
What lives in the earth makes our skin its home
Dry holes, shakin hands and rustlin bones
There's a damage we're beginning to know,

• Punk
• anti-folk
• evil
• loud
• post-metal
• sludge
• Melbourne