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lyrics

I had a father, if I’d had a gun,
The weight of a constant loaded fight
That I was the wire, I was the son
He gave up his comfort to load his
The bottle was empty, I’d wrap my fist
Self-hate alive with the glory of it
Call it depression, color it with
Red, white and blue American dread
Sure I could have walked, I could be free
And rip the heart through the hole made in me
I had a fighter and not a
Father ashamed of me

I had aggression, if I’d had a gun
The weight of a colt in the way that it runs
A sort of comfort through your skin
Sixteen and lost, I was a part of him
Been down this road a million times
Passed out on the dream of taking my
Lifetime seems like a life of guilt
For the pain of the know I handed him
I had a father who’d taken me
Not give to the pain that surrounded
Without a fighter, I wouldn’t
Stand to see today

credits

from Santa Only Gives to Rich Kids, released March 17, 2016

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

The Nucken Futs Boston, Massachusetts

Boston-based gutter punk. We like to listen to The Descendents, Strung Out, Leftover Crack, A Wilhelm Scream, etc, etc.

Aaron Dojj—vocals, guitar

Jeremy Newstead—vocals, drums, bass

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