It’s a cold day in Hell and the hacked skin is screaming Cut-price souls bleeding out Selling their Meaning Dead civilization Beyond restoration And a nice fresh demographic for each novel degradation The cots are full of maggots in each nursery mind No jobs for life yet you join the cattle grind Skipping through fires of hate and desire Throbbing zombie zygotes on the razor wire Thin skins already cracking Ligaments contracting Writhing in this wound wake with both hands bound Dionysian sybarites Eyes wide shut in ritual spite Cruising through a sine wave of freak show sound Ugly-hued heads splice Dead lips dirge lice Masturbating mania across the wires Blinkered perverts, paid drones Puking up their sick bones Superficial wishes light the funeral pyres Blood sacrifice and infant rape An Inquisition ink State Liquid sex psychosis if you have the guile Fashion conscious group thought Virtue signaled souls bought Feed those miles of maggots with each cold, controlled smile I see rabid dogs and dust mites dripping universal slug slime An acid rainbow in a sky that’s never had the time to shine Crassly-wrought creeds serving dioxin needs Half-baked quick-fix faith relations bleeding blunt force blasphemy With muscles stitched to muzzles Time to pack away this puzzle There are crows on the horizon and that sky burns black Corrupted cacogenics and a criminal aesthetic Pay-per-view homicides All media backed Manufactured misandry The feeble end of history 60 years of backwards ideology Waves of assembly-line gun-crime Feeding fear to brainwashed dregs Rifle-toting right-wing death squads?! Tell it to the limbless baby dripping down your leg As the cellophane godless fuck the Lord of The Flies Both looking backwards with the same ash in their eyes And social sedation dulls this fear of waste creation Whilst they aim us all at aimless annihilation Still you bite the hand that feeds Planting disillusioned seeds A new generation of cultic dismay Sucking off that flesh for your own feeble needs Would you ever consider there’s another way? Put your fingers to the ground And feel the howl as worlds come down Marketed amnesia Makes it even easier To enjoy a twilight lit by railguns, DEWs, drones, and mines Turned on by this arms race Tuned to charm and weak faith You let the propagandists dictate your every line Christ disfigured They needed something bigger Something they could trigger, with the time to kill Broken borders Victims only following orders To drag us back with gratitude into their bloody swill Left, and Right – and always wrong A dialectic built on scorn Left, and Right – and always wrong A dialectic built on scorn Left, and Right – and always wrong A dialectic built on scorn A dialectic built on scorn A dead A dead A dead age is born