Western Addiction
Incendiary Minds
Each one is born but they're coming out deadMy hands spell words as they fall from my headLike a confederate flag, dad wreaks of his kinWith blood on your brow you'll cry your eyes inPrison ghost starts to scream as they carry you outAnd attrition keeps you wishing that they'd tear your mouth outA sign on an inn is the shape when you dieAnd poor St. Lucia took a knife in the eyeAnd it hurtIt fucking hurtThe great diseases of our timeAre the soundtrack to a system with incendiary mindsAnd the knowledge to resist themWe can body harvest hateAnd send a charge up the floorAnd eliminate the causes worth fighting forOur incendiary minds
From Letras Mania