The Attic

Little diddly I wrote after my band didn’t place in a competition…

“The Attic”

One grand at the Attic.

You’re prepared but nervous.
Gotta think cool, pressure in the air.

Work hard for it son
I believe you have it
But I just can’t win

How can you justify this loss
What is it worth when it’s not good enough

It’s a delusion
The fault is in your head
And who judges who
give me some fuckin’ attitude

The lesson I learned
My fire really burns

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