Sitting tight and clean behind a desk made of oak
He greets his mourning victim's with a smile that'll make you choke
He's pouring out the lies from the hole in his face
Milking the People's wallets while they're in their fucked up state
And everything he says always sounds so fucking great
To those whose judgement's clouded by their loved one's sudden fate
The crying screaming sadness of the patrons in the parlor
Mean nothing more to him than another bloody dollar
You work all your life pinching pennies never to spend
Then throw them all into your grave when your life's at end
They're selling death
The family lights a candle to pay respect to the one they've lost
They cease to pay attention the the steady rising cost
The extra padded casket, the flowers and the urn
The fees are still accumulating as the body burns
After the funeral's over, and the body's been disposed
The bill has been delivered, and the cemetery closed
The bank accounts are empty and the family's still in pain
The director of this crime softly smiles and counts his gain
UK82-inspired hardcore punk from Christchurch, New Zealand, gruff and fast and economical and, of course, righteously pissed. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 16, 2020
Dead Cross, Retox, and Qui members dish out subversive hardcore with an indignant smirk; come for the riffs, stay for the synth experiments. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 31, 2024