1. |
Pick Pocket
02:41
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Graffiti under the bridge, but nothing dangerous
Welcome to the bohemian paradise
The sky mall comes to the sky rise
Abandonment refurbished, old bricks repurposed
Homelessness redistricted, problem solved, finish it
Residential class war for the white and dead,
If you can’t find it justify it in the thing you read
Fuck off carpetbagger
No you’re not safe, clandestine shrine game
Bourgeois courtois revolution, a new whole foods the final solution
Fuck you carpetbagger
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2. |
Wolf
02:01
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Knife fight, crew neck tie, I am the innocent eye
Small legs, small dicks, destined to your subjugation
Former jocks, future politicians and cops
In your scene, dressed in hoods with locks
An entire scene of masculine dreams, aggression that chokes me
Exclusivity dressed as progression
A wolf in cool clothes, stand the fuck back at my shows
At the risk of getting hit: there’s no place for you in hardcore
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3. |
Ex-Patriot
03:15
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I want to know what you think of me, not from my world but from yours
An empire state to the highest degree
Freedom isn’t free, ignorance and humility
Firearm culture of arrogant vultures
A shallow existence with closed blinds and limitless business
Value demarcation, the limit’s one nation
I hate it
You’d never know it, but there’s a world much more interesting than yours
I want to know what you think of me, your entire xenophobe country
Your mythos and stories of war and glory
But there’s a lot of blood on your hands
A shameful existence, it’s time to move on, it’s time to step down
A plague on earth of consumer choice and unwanted birth
Nationalist, jingoist, puppet master
Masochist, sadist, masturbator
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4. |
Rats
04:06
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You’re a prodigy, you’re a perfect being, you’re the end of human life and the beginning
You’re a fake, a disgrace, a miserable piece of human garbage, a fucking snake
You’re a blank slate, tabula rasa’s mistake
Thirsty for shit, begging for it, rats, maggots, poisoned and sick
They’re flushing gold chains, blood diamonds, and rings,
Busted pipes filling up the basement
The poor can’t swim and that’s the way we designed it for them
A snake, Satan, lives under your bed, inside my head, begging for death
Do you think there’s a way to handle this
Gun apologist blames his therapist
He’s drug inducing his children’s kids
Growing up to be a fucking anarchist
No one likes when the governor’s around
His aura smiles and it never frowns
It’s the deadly trick of the government
Soon he’ll become the fucking president
I wanna go back, the snake egg never hatched
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Fishmonger Atlanta, Georgia
Gavin - Vocals
Brian - Guitar
Aaron - Bass
Oliver - Drums
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