> back

Notes from Americatown

Starry eyes turn to blackened skies.
Thunderclaps keep our hearts in time.
As the lightning tears down, we're set alight.
So kneel or follow the night.

The bad moon rises over this grave,
Where the parasites all live the lie and mean nothing.
Their coffins look exactly the same.
'Til the bodies die their souls and faith will be fucking,
in filth, like the pigs they are underneath their sick trash skin,
to bring barren dreams no man can receive to the badland's end.