from by Choke



This place kills
But nothing ever seems to change
The pain we feel
We create by our mistakes
Why we still fill ourselves with rot and decay
A puncture wound, abscess bruise won't make it go away

Take a look at yourself
I'll take a look at me
This place that we adore
Is fucking diseased

How many more of our brothers will we put in the ground
Everybody's got an opinion but, no one makes a sound.

Anyone whose anyone doesn't mean fuck all to me
The fallen friends and wounds we'll mend are what will set us free
I've got demons of my own and they're clawing at my feet.
My veins bled dry and so have I accepted my defeat.


from Self Titled EP, released November 5, 2015



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Choke New Jersey

Pete - Guitar
Garret - Bass
Ryan - Drums
Dylan - Guitar
Chick - Vocals

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