Oil worth more than lives
And we live in this bile.
A mean cold old machine,
Spitting bullets with our names.
A tale as old as time,
Nothing changes, nevermind.
Spilling red for the greens,
Wretched world… it’s obscene.
Man, it’s always been this way,
Power plays and iron fists.
It attracts the worst,
It corrupts the best.
Free spirits become like the rest.
I’m sorry kid it is what it is,
Will to power in our genes.
You wanna fight them,
You gotta play the game.
Just promise me you won’t become like them.
Oil worth more than lives,
And we live in this bile.
A mean cold old machine,
Spitting bullets with our names...
Nervy Melbourne post-punk with Mark E. Smith-style vocals, barbed and blasting guitar hooks, and wry social commentary. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 7, 2020
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