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In The Sweaty Grip Of The Moron

by Faultfinder

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1.
we know where you are, bow your head, swallow your pride we are the speaking statue, we have the whip in hand consider this a gentle reminder that we'll torture the language so we can torture you - take your medicine you're our de facto demographic - the unaware - and that includes nearly everyone so who'd be left to care? no, no you can not (the mantra) no, no you can not (repeat until it sinks in) every new concession fortifies the walls between the ones with the guns and the ones with nothing at all we can make your skin boil to make you confess and when you stop saying no we'll take that as a yes we'll shove it down your throat until your will is gone and overhead our power drones on and on and on and on we'll kill you in your fucking bedroom if you step out of line in the fields of state control it's harvesting time watch your step
2.
nothing says i love you like a rifle to the head a bradley fighting vehicle to render the discussion dead and what's a better excuse for a conscience laid to rest than a spoon fed ideology that brands itself the noble best? we're led to war by blind mathematicians their sober numbers beat us into submission led to the store by blind mathematicians taught what to want through paid admonitions the air on city buses breeds a disease of despair because the language of coercion is the language spoken everywhere and there's a kind of monied poverty that leaves no room to breathe producing glowing screens inside your home that beg you to check in and never leave
3.
why try? why bother? you can't win, you won't win. see the roaches crawling out of the drywall you can't win, you won't win. cycle of insects stab swiftly in a circle of bastards, you never know which one will get you first just as surely as you bow to your masters, you can't win, you won't win place your hands around your neck - apply pressure - twist and shout flags are blocking out the sun - defy every one they're just rap sheets - banners of defeat punk band writes song punk band records song god farts the world keeps turning
4.
number's up I'm gonna die I haven't lived my life but I sign the dotted line line up for life, lined up to die they've got you clapped in chrome because they didn't buy your alibi it only gets worse - you know what i mean? there's no negotiating they've cast you in their scene got it bad so bad got the needle in my hand but I'm too young to die sentenced to suicide you just can't take my life sentenced to suicide didn't send me a gun, didn't send me a knife sentenced to suicide with a loaded syringe like the reaper's scythe, I sign the dotted line I understand.
5.
Intermission 02:16
6.
Happiness 06:16
it doesn't taste like you thought it would how's that make you feel? a burred yoke placed on your shoulders? a vigil for your ideals? and the shit that we swallowed is coming back up still the best you can offer me is another loving cup sly fingers kneading your flesh is all you want through all the social contortions in all the shitty bars and all your faulty ambition we can't see who you are i say you're only as good as the words you understand and you don't understand a word sly fingers kneading your flesh is all you want what do you get for the person who thinks that they have everything? and as we're wasting away while growing ever more fat it's the bait that we ate that justifies our state contagions slip through the cracks
7.
PEACE GUNS past lives - stymied - white rats - running up the flagpole sutured - sisters - peace guns - pointed at their foreheads now bath salt - junkies - sapped up - red polluter meth train forked tongues - sliced eyes - they drink - venom of the god snakes now ready to fly SWEATING IN PRIVATE you think love comes from a bottle and having someone to pray for you i'm begging you to pray for me for what i choose to do can't keep the bile down my body makes so much fluid - gulping pedialite just so i can do it ipecac, thumb tacks and cum turpentine, bitters, limes and rum the stains won't wash out

credits

released January 19, 2017

all songs by faultfinder
recorded by mike tuley a long time ago in the black box with overdubs and mix by mungo wetteroth later on
logo printed on tape by olivia gibb
other art by someone in the band

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Faultfinder Kansas City, Missouri

Faultfinder was a punk band that played in and around Kansas City, MO from 2010 to 2018. They did one tour, played several local shows, and recorded an EP and two albums. Faultfinder had three distinct line-ups over the years, but the final band consisted of Mookie Ninjak (bass, vocs, keyboards), Ben Biersmith (drums, vocs), Don Beasley (guitar) and Joe Wetteroth (guitar).

Thanks: Hearst Lee
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