live past the age of sixty, lungs blacked out like a chimney,
from the smog, my brains fermented like kimchi
and thats assuming the fucking heat don't kill me
melt into a fucking muck puddle filthy till
death, no choice left due to short funds
tryna pay rent with some spit from the forked tongue
no jobs, automated out the old ones
hungry, living on the surface of the fucking sun
till the winter comes then it's frigid
froze off digits, corpse unborn rigid
in the climate controlled bunkers there's no difference
paid for by bribes from special interest
an profits from the climate apartheid
you can run and hide but once the air's gone youre gonna die
and that's assuming we don't get you first
try and sell the planet when you're under the earth
supported by 16 fans who also own “names and locations of the 100 people killing the planet”
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego