Lyrics:

I want out.
The universe is an unjust place motherfucker.
I can’t stand the stench anymore.
I want out.

Clot in my arteries. 
Another fiscal payment,
I’m on my knees.
One more bites the pavement,
Failed surgery,
On a dying patient.
5% interest,
This way you’ll go lightly,
Into credit enslavement.

Line of credit,
ILLEGITIMATE
Hubris incarnate.
ILLEGITIMATE
Democratic consensus,
Line of credit,
ILLEGITIMATE
Hubris incarnate. 

When I find the fuckers who did this,
I’ll skin them for profit.
Violence strikes twice,
Silence only strikes once.

Line of credit,
ILLEGITIMATE
Hubris incarnate.
ILLEGITIMATE
Democratic consensus,
Line of credit,
ILLEGITIMATE
Hubris incarnate.

I'm Pretty Sure this Constitutes a Crime

Lyrics:
You call this free?

Isn’t it suffocating?
The air of rich sycophants reaping what you make.
The smell of fucking animals ripping and clawing till you break.
Can you smell the blood?
It reeks of a failed state.

Keep calm,
Carry on, 
Everything is fine,
We’ll make it out alive.

Need a verse two,
A familiar structure to console you.
How lonely must it be on the moral high ground.
What would you have me do?
Guess I’ll just die anyway.

Keep calm,
Carry on, 
Everything is fine,
We’ll make it out alive.

God Save The Queen (Welp…)

Lyrics:

You're neck deep in the shit.
Now it's a part of you.
Now it's a part me.
Do you understand who you are?
I'm sick, and it's your fault.
You liberal fuck.
So sell me,
Exploit me,
Fuck me,
The market will decide,
Your fate...

I now understand Grant Orways 1987.
I am the expression of dualthunk.
I have been standing here for 23.2 seconds,
The fat fucking fascist behind me is getting impatient.
Perhaps I'll take some marijuana when I get home, it helps me take the edge off.
Who am I to criticize our robust financial systems?
I'm just a kid with an arts degree who'll never amount to anything important in life.
We are living at the end of history after all...

So sell me,
Exploit me,
Fuck me,
The market will decide,
Your fate...

You're neck deep in the shit.
Now it's a part of you.
Now it's a part me.
Do you understand who you are?
I'm sick, and it's your fault.
You liberal fuck.
So sell me,
Exploit me,
Fuck me,
The market will decide.

The Fat Fucking Fascist Behind me is Getting Impatient

My Mom Spends too Much Time on Facebook

My Mom Spends Too Much Time On Facebook

The Fat Fucking Fascist Behind is Getting Impatient

One Can Only Take so Much Pounding

Lyrics:

The son of god,
Must repent for his sins.
He’s been,
Sucking on oil’s teet for too long.
Like a rabid dog.
He scours the sand for his next hit.
Like a starved squirrel.
He reaches for the black gold.
He’ll stop at nothing.
Until he plants his rig.
And sucks you dry.
Such a shame you pray to another god. 

Logic. 
Objective, logic. 
Logic.
Objective logic.
Logic.
Objective logic.
Logic.

Oh, president Jesus, please deliver us from this unholy dependence.

I’m addicted to the smell of industry.
Fuck me, I love the sweat of child labour.
Doesn’t get sweeter than the numbing pain of indifference.
Doesn’t get better than the violent organization of difference.
When the sun burns up,
Where will your money be?
Where will your god be?
Drowning in the sea.

Logic. 
Objective, logic. 
Logic.
Objective logic.
Logic.
Objective logic.
Logic.

I hope it drowns with you.

Latitude 0 Motherfuckers Are Really Gonna Suffer In 50 Years’ Time

Lyrics:

I am,
The archive of your failures.
The history of your mistakes.
This is the end.
You wanted this.
One more statistic to cross off your list.

Your obsolescence was planned.
When money is time,
Privatize, optimize.

The knife's in your hands.
Fucking end it.
I'll take you with me.
Onto the seventh circle.

All you've got are dead dreams,
In a broken glass jar.
Where you put your black tongue,
Is where the cancer spreads.
All you've got are dead dreams,
In a broken glass jar.
Where you put your black tongue,
Is where the cancer spreads.

I am,
The archive of your failures.
The history of your mistakes.
This is the end.

This is the New Music

Nobody Thought You'd Be This Bad at Your Job

Nobody Thought You'd Be This Bad At Your Job

Lyrics:

Breathe in,
The toxic sludge.
Open your mind,
To the endless grudge.

The death drive grinds forwards.

Born of hate,
Borne of blood.
Nuclear society,
Conceived to self-destruct.
Sacrifice your soul,
On the altar of profit.

The death drive grinds forwards,
It will consume until,
You find yourself sated.

Fuck.

Fall in line, 
Forget the guilt,
You gave up your planet,
For the sake of comfort.
You unfulfilled nihilist.

On this ladder,
You are but fodder.
And when you falter,
Succumb to the endless ether.
You unfulfilled nihilist.

You catastrophic catalyst.
You sacrificed your soul.
You gave up your planet.

You Ever Crave Mutually Assured Destruction?

Lyrics:

Reflexive obsolescence.
You are a product.
Made to work,
Built to break.
Said to last.
Another lie.
Divorced from production.
Priced out of consumption.
Just a fucking weakling.
Never to break expectation.

Ruthless competition broke me.
I rule: guilty.
You gave me your work ethic.
Now I police myself.

Just a fucking weakling,
Never to break expectation.

You murdered god,
And raised the market in his stead.
Fetid icon,
Of a stillborn system.

You gave me your work ethic.
Now I police myself.
You give me medicine.
Now I police my soul.

Productivity Reaching New Heights - Single

Productivity Reaching New Heights

Lyrics:
Crushed by the weight of "liberty."   
"Please contribute to our economy."
"Modernized society."
Such is the price of "sanity."
For which you signed a treaty.
Before you knew of fealty.

One sick joke.
One barrel in your throat.

Right back again.
Everything regurgitated.
Diluted, 
Childish,
Hypocrite,
Waiting,
For your next hit.

Market,
Mass horror,
Largest common denominator. 
A pig,
In a cage,
On anti-depressants.

This is culture.

My Algorithm has a Hapsburg Chin - Two Singles to Round Out this Dumpster Fire of a Year

My Algorithm has a Hapsburg Chin

Lyrics:
Replete with anger,
You thought you could accede,
Shining in gold,
To that barbaric throne.

Endless decay,
Constant catastrophe.
Obsolete substance,
But you kept the form:
Domination.

Do you smell the stench?
New millenium,
Same old torture.

Replete with anger, 
You thought you could accede,
Shining in gold,
To that barbaric throne. 
Erase once and for all
The persistent itch
Of serfdom.

Amidst the rubble,
When they turn the floodlights to you,

Will you still think you were ever unique?
Your neck was always next.
Your fate, forever: death.

Boilermaker

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