vandalize the cauterized wounds breaking our traditions
not enough science to fill our lungs
nor enough socialism to keep our pockets full
manifesto's to bring militia's to arms
against our own souls we take up fire arms
we can scribe will's and testaments on parchment
keep our secrets within our concrete walls
but bricks will bring out the strength in our weakness
your shotgun will ring
hell's bells will sing
to doom is our prophets foresight
from redemption is our means of transportation
but the throbbing in our skulls
creates the beat to our hearts
when our esophagus's are filled with others bile
and the streets filled of carcase and carrion
crows feast upon cornea and christ's blood
the ripper, he loots the disemboweled
cash for all of the abandoned merchandise
money in a world breathing upon is own deterioration
cash in your chips
buy yourself a raft to live your last on
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