Chelsea Wolfe

No Luck

Chelsea Wolfe


You can't trust anyone's word but your own
These days, there's no luck for self-control
Everybody's looking inward
With no regard for the love they stole from you
Living in a small town can be hell, at times
It's so beautiful and still so ugly, inside

And all these trees, let their leaves fall down
With our hearts, into gutters to be washed away with the rain
There, they'll fall into sewer streams
To be washed out into the ocean, open there for all to see

All these trees, let their leaves fall down
With our hearts, into gutters to be washed away with the rain
There, they'll fall into sewer streams
To be washed out into the ocean, open there for all to see