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Testo Compromised
Testo Compromised
I learned the words and I sand along but I still get up for my dead end job, nineteen years and still no future, the cam becomes so fucking clear. We still pay our bills, we still buy their booze. The revolution is just a dream, another God that failed. I walked into what I knew to be a trap. How can I look ahead when I always have to watch my back? Nothing's changed, we work our lives away. Bought and sold by a privileged few, nothing left for you. These are our demands: we want our fucking lives back
- United States Of Autocracy
- So Much Smoke
- Air Israel
- Burn Allston To The Fucking Ground
- Quagmire
- Amends
- Slitting Your Wrists On The Company Copy Machine
- Debts
- Premonitions
- Fatigue
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