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lyrics

Kindly lend your ears as we drape you with sounds from a soft and meaningless crafted buyer list.
Designers creeping near with their private medicine. Praline adenosine, listen for the prod.
Kindly lend your eyes as we wash you with sacrament from a possible source of meaning and force.
Cause this vessel contours under a sentient sky and our quota is the gullet of the carnivorous pasture.
Oil, oil dripping from your pockets.
Pills, milk dropping from your pant legs.
Tell us, tell us, the shapes of your masters.
Missiles worship the song of dead dollars.
Now, listen, listen, the payload igniting.
Now, listen, listen, people are dying.
Jesus Christ approaching with a baseball bat
and you selling doves with dead dollar tax.

Awww, those AK-47 eyes selling debt like it's food.

This simulation of drowning is not torture.
Your burning at the stake makes not a martyr.
This gun to your head is a friendly handshake
and the purpose of this announcement is not a mistake.
Cause I am an AK-47 selling debt like it's food.
The drones outside are a wedding present.
You're future was doomed from the moment you met us.
Now, naturally I'm thinkin that this looks like a homicide.
There's blood on the ground and the video don't lie.
So here's to wishing that you die(d) like an adult.
Holla.

credits

from There's a Dead Fox Where You Praise, released February 15, 2020

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Wild Trees Charlotte, North Carolina

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