Mouth open wide, ripped, stitched up the side
Telling me to stop running, their tired
Tired of dirt, mud, ****, things that transpired
from a ground level view
Screaming at me

"Imagine if it were you!
Imagine you saw yourself running
and each step smashed your brain in!
We are tired!
Just let us die, get some new
cronies, pick on some new guys."

Beat to death, then beaten again
SLO, Santa Cruz, beaches, streets,
parties, fight circles, thrown on the roof
Hoping they'll die soon and be reborn
as some brand new shoes