Eight Four One Six To The Grave (Ft. Sophie Wilcher)

Say shit with your chest, we're all waiting
Keep hating change, keep complaining
Laws made for breaking, it’s fucked up
They just throw the animals under
Show me:

Flesheaters to the saw
Breastfeeders to the morgue
Cut off my fucking tongue
Shut me the fuck up
Flesheaters to the saw
Breastfeeders to the morgue
Fuck up your gorefronts
Let them ignore us
Turn them to sawdust

We tried it your way
It got us nowhere
Stop giving me advice
You're right, I don't care
No

Flesheaters to the saw
Breastfeeders to the morgue
Cut out my fucking tongue
Shut me the fuck up
Flesheaters to the saw
Breastfeeders to the morgue
Right hand of god, cast them down
Nail a carnist to a cross