R.M Bartley - Small Town Guilt Lyrics

It's cider flavoured sick at first
Followed by the coughing of virgin lungs
The poorly picked out pairings and clumsy exchange of clumsier tongues
Nowadays you love a roll up you'll partake of smoke or pill or sniff
Surrounded by the washed out aging faces that all share the whispered
"What if?"
Small town guilt is a fickle thing
Small town guilt we all just stick around for the ride
Small town guilt there is nothing for us here
In the place where ambition goes to die
You've never been afraid to do your own thing but look how far that hasn't gotten me
I'm no better off than the small town cop who hit on me but said he'd break my neck should I tell
Small town guilt is a fickle thing
Small town guilt we all just stick around for the ride
Small town guilt there is nothing for us here
In the place where ambition goes to die
Little lost boys and little lost girls are stumbling down the avenue of circumstance
Won't somebody light a candle so there's something to flock to?
Anything at all
Small town guilt is a funny thing
Small town guilt we all just linger round for the ride
Small town guilt there is nothing for us here
In the place where ambition goes to die
In the sepulchre of futures
In the refuse pile of what ifs
In the dumping ground of "some time other than now"
In the place where ambition was buried under the lies of best laid plans
In the place where ambition goes to die