Family Re Ruin

Static in the kitchen, same old suffocating walls You were screaming at the plaster, waiting for the floor to fall When the pockets were empty, when the engine wouldn't turn You handed me the match, said you wanted it to burn Kicked me out to the asphalt, left me scraping for a dime Holding onto my ankles, trying to paralyze my time You didn't want a brother, you wanted company in hell Locked the doors from the inside, ringing out the funeral bell But the grip started slipping when I started to climb Yeah, you hate to see a winner when you're choking on the grime. (Chorus) Now I’m moving up, and you’re clawing at the heel! Tried to break the bone, but you couldn't bend the steel! Yeah, you spit your poison, tried to keep me in the dirt But the fire that you started only burned away the hurt! Look at the map, look at the dust on the floor— I am breaking the lock, I am taking the door! (Verse 2) Every step was a battle, every night was a fight You were praying for the shadow, I was reaching for the light "You ain't nothing, you ain't going, you'll be back in the trap" Now I’m pulling up the anchors, putting miles on the map No more fighting over scraps, no more breathing in the sour I’ve been counting down the minutes, now I’m stepping in the hour Pack the bags in the dark, leave the wreckage on the lawn You can stay with the ghost, but the living is gone. (Chorus) Now I’m moving up, and you’re clawing at the heel! Tried to break the bone, but you couldn't bend the steel! Yeah, you spit your poison, tried to keep me in the dirt But the fire that you started only burned away the hurt! Look at the map, look at the dust on the floor— I am breaking the lock, I am taking the door! (Bridge) (Music drops to a pulsing bass, heavy, rhythmic, tense) You wanted me broke. You wanted me down. Wanted the weight of the world till I drown. But the air is different when you finally stand. I’ve got the grit in my teeth and the world in my hand. No more permission. No more delays. Burned down the bridge just to clear out the haze. (Outro) (The guitars roar back in, fast, aggressive, unrelenting) Yeah, keep the room, keep the noise, keep the misery! I’m cutting the cord, I’m claiming the history! Passenger seat, out on the highway, setting the degree— Louder for the back row: **I’m going to Berkeley.** Yeah, I’m going to Berkeley. Turn the key. I’m gone.