B1. The Trickster (Setup) Lyrics:
Fear of a nationwide struggle so deep and steep, like trails of a tank and ten banks go on blank. Dead strike without knives and no stumbling upon stones on the ground. How does this sound?Holy as in holy not hollow, officer puts my hands in chains, my mind full of stains like never before. Andromeda Nebula forced to hit a black hole like never before. You hear me?
Full feature night on drugs, cardboard images cut out on Mohair rugs, and no one is considered to be the thug. Celebrate your future life as if it is your last one you will ever survive.
Continuously reading the websites full of domestic violence, of the masses bending over and getting raped by some New World Order. Flip over, don’t come any fucking closer.
Insanity markets your marketing and possessed demons of consumerism throw figures at you. What the fuck could you even do?
As matter speaks out on behalf, consider consulting your true self as a moment in time ain’t working so fine. Move over make place for the newest case of tactics in-your-face, what the fuck is ‘race’ anyway?
Truth will be spoken by grown men in black togas, and one thing can’t fail cause everything is for sale. Your heroes bend over like hoes – supposed to raise a cash drain for some hero in some office which is too insane. For words, obviously.
Geological structures in cold war politics – scan your communication in order to create disordered communities. No policies on privacy, it’s that writer’s legacy. Go to your bookstore and buy ‘1984’.
As they beat up opponents and crush down minorities, the masses raise their heads in dangerous glory. Not ashamed by their own history – no, probably simply not aware in their heads of the soil and all the red and the dead.
What the fuck could you even do to stop it, or do you truly want to stop this? Dream on, get a life.
