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about

First demo.

credits

released February 4, 2013

Recorded December 2012-January 2013

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all rights reserved

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Force-Fed Drugs Red Hook, New York

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Track Name: Animal Authority
I see you relish the taste,
what a waste.
You've cancelled your eyes;
paralyzed.
Mind cued and caught,
no insight.
Badge and uniform,
nothing more.
Criminal disguise;
a swine hide

You are everything we are against,
keeping us fenced,
replenish the basic foundational the volatile.
Up front, direct, no fucking guile.
Your law = cluttered, obtuse, inane.
I, unfettered unregulated, wholly sane.
You, to me, besieged by information, delineations distorted, overlaps
your word, traps
blackout, blinking, burning. cancelled eyes, concussed.
This way all out of life lust,
I use to it make art not to get high.
Fuck you, dulled blunt by animosity, go back to your sty.

Fuck off!
Track Name: Cities...
This city will destroy us.
Burn it down
and destroy what destroys you.
Burn it down.
Track Name: ...Burn
These buildings
bleed vertically
onto me.

Under a skyline of ash:
our crumbling perseverance
to a myth of creation
based on destruction.
Cain versus Abel,
we're crawling west of Eden
digging through, tunneling through, Gomorrah’s corpses.
Track Name: Dear Pigs,
Dear pigs,
you will not catch us,
you could not catch us.
Beat me, fuck me.
You will not break me,
you could not break me.
Comrades fly your black flags low
they're cowards amongst us,
they’re traitors amongst us.
They give us no other choice

then to burn their stations down.
Your flashing red streets will soon no-
no longer remain.
Wipe that sick smile off your face pig,
before I make it change.
We’ll laugh scraping our clothes clean of your remains.

When they found the body, it was halfway decomposed.
Track Name: Genderfucked
He’s encouraged to act like a rapist by the age 13.
She’s encouraged to wish to be consumed.
She’s encouraged to wish to be consumed.

Mom, father, shotgun logic.
Trained into those who we hate.
Track Name: Cradles
I'll meet you on the far side of town,
in every rural ghetto, in every rotten valley.
I can't tell if it's hot or cold,
but I'd rather stay wrapped up here than find out one way or the other.
Familiarity breeds acceptance.
Familiarity breeds resignation.