Lonely Kids In Dead End Homes

by Judges

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credits

released April 21, 2011

Recording/Producing/Engineering - Joel Otte

Mastering - Jamie King

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Judges Frederick, Maryland

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Track Name: Empty Childhood
All that she has ever had in this life, is just a drunk for a father and a mother who barely knows her. She’s down on her knees praying for an escape. She doesn’t expect much to come of it. Because after 17 years and still not a word, after 17 years and still she’s starting to doubt that theres a God to be heard, for what kind of God would give her a mother and a father who don’t give a damn about her. Her whole life they have told her, “You are just a mistake, and wanted by no one”. Its 6 a.m on a Friday morning, as she swallows those pills, and waits for the sunrise. With nothing left, she closes her eyes. With nothing left, she closes those eyes.
Track Name: Billboard Evangelism
I know that I am young, I know you might not believe, but I know what I see, and what I see is a lack of a life worth living, a lack of selfless giving. A lack of anyone real, and a Middle Class America with the world under its heels. I see young men dying for a nation’s pride. Starving children in our streets to whom we pay no mind, who we just pass by without a second glance or a lending hand. And as I stand wondering where I fit into all of this, I feel alone, and it’s sickening, it sickens me. Because every time I close my eyes, I see it in my mind. It festers and grows into something that I can no longer stand. For the rest of my days, I will scream in disgrace, that we are no greater than the dirt that we will call our home.
Track Name: Wandering Nights
I stand at the foot of a mountain, staring up I wonder if I should climb it. They tell me it is what I want, they tell me it is what my heart desires, but I know for a fact that I am searching for much more than a place on top, than a place to call home. I spend my nights wondering where I’ll end up, I spend my days thinking of a way out. I am losing the ones that I love, and I am slowly losing myself. I am losing everything that I once held close to me, and I couldn’t care less. Life is just a selfish game, and I am winning with no intention of quitting.
Track Name: That Liquor
Dirty streets and ugly people, that is all he see’s. Rats of cruel acts and worse intentions, hives of consumers getting their fix.

Want, need, one in the same.

But he is better than that, been taught better than that, working for that dollar, only complaining for a few hours more. Crawling, laboring through the day to go home and to go home in such a broken state, he keeps asking himself, “Is this all that I keep working for?” His daughter poisened by false adds. His daughter poisened by live feeds. But just like his fathers word, promises to change the world become further and further out of reach. They are further out of reach. The smell of liquor from the kitchen, his wife has had a drink or two, it’s about time he joins her. He needs those moments of reflection to remind himself that he deserves every dollar earned.

Want, need, one in the same.
Track Name: Presidential Affairs
He yearns for a day when there will be nothing holding him back from his true meaning in life. A day when he can look himself in the mirror and see a man who is worth just one thing. But until that day comes, he will settle with anger, until that day comes he will settle with emptiness. They don’t know a thing about him, and they’ll never know how lonely he feels, until they’ve walked a mile in his shoes, and watched all of their friends die. For a country that cares more about lining their pockets, than they do the innocent thousand who are dying for their cause. So with nothing left to lose he digs through his dresser for bullets. “I’ll show all of them I’ve got the guts. They won’t ever doubt a common man like me again. ‘Cause soon I’ll have the whole world on its knee’s, with this gun in my hands, I’ll take his life with ease”. On a crowded street the president he takes aim, pulls the trigger down now they all know his name.
Track Name: Fleeting Thoughts
Am I a man with no sense of direction, traveling alone, talking to himself? Am I a vague outline of a life that should be, but isn’t yet? Are my fists tight because of the cold or because I’m holding on to the only thing I’ve got,and if I let go I’m letting go for good. That night in the parking, that last round I bought, I was so sure I was man enough to make it home just fine, And as the wheels kiss the lines and the signs keep swirling by, I just drive and drive until I close my eyes. Then I beg, that question that is always on my mind,

“Is there still time?”

My life is a car drifting off of the road, and I may never make it home but, I’ll squint my eyes another mile or two just to find out, where it goes. Nowhere have I ever traveled, to a lonely place such a place as this, no heaven quite as worrisome, a weary traveler, a praying fist.

And that boy, he looked up at me,

he said if God must take one,

why not you, why me?
Track Name: Portraits Of A Prison Town
Another day in this beat down cell, just trying to forget what I remember so well. A young man just driving home, he never thought his life would end so quickly. I could never forgive myself for stealing his life. I never thought that is what my drinking would do. Now I have years to regret, I now know my whole life, I will regret. My whole life to his, I am in debt. My whole life, I’m in debt. I tried praying, but that has never worked, I tried my writing, but man, it hurts. I give up on any hope that I have ever had. I always knew that I would die a lonely and bitter man. I am alone, and I am a man of no worth. I will always be alone, as I have been for so long.
Track Name: It Rained Without Ceasing
Who gave you permission? A higher calling? I’m no saint, but I see the herds being lead astray. I have never been one to stand by and not take a swing. Bastard ones of a generation, guilt by association, you find us faithless by assumtion. Say these words and feel better about dying giving change to the poor and praying for the world. Maybe your God is tired of hearing the same story. Maybe your God is tired of hearing that same old story, that your wealth is a blessing to be hoarded to live a life of luxury, while my wife struggles to pay the bills. And you look down upon me because I am in jail?

What bothers me is not the God they hold so close but the selfishness they deny to help them sleep at night. Because it’s been 5 days and nights since I’ve slept and I relive those last seconds every time I try to step forward thinking I am responsible for a child’s death and my family’s suffering, oh, I am struggling to understand grace from a God whose servants show none to me.
Track Name: Cluttered Minds
Everyday is a new day to breathe hate, reinstate what the world tells me is right. Find the truth, but what for if it’s all a lie? These questions, clutter minds over and over again. I remember when I was so nieve that I thought I didn’t deserve a dead ending, I think its time I opened up my eyes, open my eyes and see renewed spite. ‘Cause I am not the man I wanted to be when I got here, I am nothing short of lost. Everyday is a new day to breathe hate, reinstate what the world tells me is right. What the world tells me is right. I’m not sure when I gave up trying to set myself straight, ’cause I give in and I give in. I want nothing more of this, I want nothing more of this. I matter no more, I am nothing, I am nothing, I am just a selfish waste of a human life.
Track Name: Hidden Stares
This was never the life she had dreamed of. A mother, a wife, this life isn’t for her. The hidden affairs, the empty stares from her so called “loved ones”. Her husband now in jail, a single mother, on the brink of poverty. Broken and alone, struggling to keep her family’s home. Broken and alone. Struggling to keep her life on track, struggling to keep her faith in tact. After every dollar has been spent, all the broken promises to pay the rent. She goes home to her daughter, another night spent alone. It’s about time she hits the bottle, drinks until there’s nothing left, or until her head hits the table. This is routine, this is all that she will ever know. This is routine, another night spent alone.