Crush our fucking skulls in the sliding door. Let the amps pile on and pound us into mush. Let this destroy us so, when confronted with our corpses, none of our loved ones even recognizes us. A blight on the land. A curse on this house. We've learned to amplify the sound of our ennui. A black cloud of gnashing teeth, bones and mud and road debris. Obliterate ourselves as keepers of a faith. Bred on amphetamines, carcinogens and hate. A blight on the land. A curse on this house. We are few, but we are one, and we'll burn brighter than the sun. And you can sift our ashes into the sleeves of our Discharge records. Until we're dead and in the dirt.