1. |
Foreign Sun
02:51
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In the street and on the run
Get out of my head, Get out of my head
Burning up in the foreign sun
Get out of my head, you're in my head
When you have your eyes on me
That's the moment I feel free
Forced to move with a gun
Get out of my head, You're in my head
Wake me up if you can't make it home tonight
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2. |
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There's no antiquity in a derailed past
Hoping every sigh will be your last
Spilling blood for the hungry ghost
When it got your head that's what scarred the most
(These canyons) in my skin hope to meet the light
They're striving for the air with all their might
But these wounds are only getting deeper
And the road I walk on is getting steeper
It's in the food, It's in the air (It's in the air)
In what you breathe and what you eat (in what you eat)
And when you look it's everywhere (It's everywhere)
And I can't sleep (ooh I can't sleep)
But if you give me your while
Don't forget that precious smile
It weighs my eyes just like a child
High tail it, High tail it
Face my head to what I must see
Don't stop if the neck begins to break
Not until I'm truly free
Free of this bellyache
And if you give me your while
Don't forget that precious smile
It weighs my eyes just like a child
So I can sleep
High tail it, High tail it
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3. |
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Separating families is your global policy
It doesn't matter what you do if it's something you don't see
You're able to walk around and escape the guilt
When you got all your cronies trained to shoot at will
With your hit-man policies, your hit-man policies
Everybody on the floor, everyone scream
With your cold gator skin
Treating color like an original sin
Relinquish all men with a common hate
Turn yourself over or accept your fate
I would never think to harm another man
But you're no man, just a shadow of a beast
Accept defeat by the hands of the oppressed
With angry hearts beating in their chest
From your hit-man policies, your hit-man policies
Don't look away, You're in for it now
Wrap your hearts around the common trail
Beg the lord for feet that aren't too frail
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4. |
Cold Mornings
09:21
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Textile wounds that you wear on your sleeve
Manufactured to be another novelty
Your knife has grown dull from taking slices from me
I'm gonna take a swing at the world
Blot it out from the fucking sky
I've got self-prescribed paranoia
I won't be caught falling into the rye
When will this mystery turn a blind eye
So I could quietly walk on by
So I could go and turn it off
So I can go and shut it down
I am the creator "He," the only who places the ink so that (s)he may be
Take a look around
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Parent Teacher Conference
Southern Californian Alternative Punk band.
P.T.C. is:
Tyler Baltierra
Joshua Moreno
Anoop Nijjar
Sebastian Torres
Follow us on instagram @parentteacherconference
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