Shell

My knuckles crave the feeling of your jagged fucking teeth
My bones ache as I shake with the hate I hold inside my brain
If I go down, it ain't gonna be like this
If we all end up a bloody puddle in a grate somewhere,
atleast we died fighting this
We are the flood
We are the rain drowning out the poor souls that just don't belong
We are the spine of the world,
and we've had just about enough of the back-breaking bullshit
Make a fist and jam it down someone's throat
Feed them knuckle sandwiches until they've had their fucking fill