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Crawling through the cities, the filth chokes me to the taste, |
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feeding the desire to destroy this culture that I hate, |
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the daily inquisition, the fear that fuels our lives, |
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sets each man against the other with the wool upon our eyes. |
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Chains of command |
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the weight of wait |
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under their wheels into concrete |
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face off the floor |
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rise up, retaliate |
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The razor blade infections cut caverns deep across my skin |
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reminding me of battles I have lost and will never win |
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there are no bullets here, these hands are clenched in fists |
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and the promise of another day is all that we have left |
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What remains here...? |
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Bowing to the dollar in their soulless church of capital |
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Where wealth encrusts their bodies |
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Yet cancer fills their hearts? |
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Brother will kill brother in this stained-glass abattoir called 'earth' |
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My arteries are boiling with a hatred undefined |
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for this colonizing monolith that suffocates our lives |
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A bastard congregation runs the head of this machine |
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Our hands will gut its gears till their blood runs cold and we are free. |
