Animals keep dying for the meat you keep frying and you keep on lying to keep it at large. Ever been led to a house of death, led down in the hall then shot in the head. After your life in a spaceless room, with nothing to see and nothing to do. You can make up lots of excuses, but none of them will work. When your opinion is deformed by something like a church. On battlefields, in slaughterhouses, laboratories, zoos. Your fleshpiles of greed are the proof that it's true. It's true it's true we were right about you. Your fleshpiles of greed are the proof that it is true. Thee's no necessity for what you do so we cherish the hope it will happen to you too. Hung by a meathook your skin all pealed off. Sliced open belly your entrails ripped out. Limbs are all chopped off, just like your head. Lifesucking slaughterers, I want you dead.
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Chicagoans craft indomitable hardcore for uncertain times, full of mangled riffs, and larynx-shredding hooks—plus a touch of post-punk. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 13, 2023