O.D.H.G.A.B.F.E. Songtext / Lyric

Hate

Falling three feet to the ground

Face down on the cold floor of a well-oiled SF pigsty

I met my one true love



Feel youth crushed somewhere between concrete and boot

Another victim of the lower hate

You are not my god

You think this is funny, don't you pig?






How the helpless freak squirms

Beneath our state sanctioned soles

But what is he laughing at?



There was nothing padded about a wagon full of mace

Rotator cuff hyper extends behind my back

Ribs cracking beneath a rain of sticks and heels

Falling down like the rain outside



Oh yeah bitch, I'm gonna remember

Your face, your name, your number

And when I crawl out of this hole

I'm going to make you all mine



Auschwitz Kent State Chi-Town 68 Tianamen Waco