They had us talking: graves, shovels
The story that guides to what end
The meaning eludes
The message is crude
And we're bored of the same old “fuck me” chants again
This is the end of the line for the aimless
A step to the edge your logic is worthless
Towing the line, disrespecting the head
Not stopping 'till even the hangman is dead
Aftershave, Crew-cuts, Van-kids and Mosh-tricks
Fleshies, Face-tatts, fashion guru Fuck-wits
A man of your word when it takes a whole year
To finish a sentence. Nothing here.
Don’t these heads look great on silver-plates?
Are you getting the picture yet?
Who is to blame here?
I'll first blame myself then on to the messenger
Paying the price, life check, balance
Don’t these heads look great on silver-plates?
Are you getting the picture?
Who is to blame here?
I'll first blame myself, then you can count me out
I'll threaten your very existence
We out last
We don’t forgive
We don’t forget
I’m your worst nightmare
Chicago hardcore veterans embrace industrial metal, doom, and experimental electronics to transcendent, explosive effect. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 18, 2023