1. |
||||
(Come on, let's split the bill)
(Huff paint at the candidate's debate)
(I'm eating my responsibilities and my moral obligations)
|
||||
2. |
||||
Let’s spray it red baby
The walls, the schools, your motherfucking front door
Systematic suffocation is so damn fine
My office is so warm this time of year
Sorry I missed your call, I was too busy with my nose in the snow
So spray it all red for me baby
|
||||
3. |
The Incel Anthem
01:05
|
|||
I need you like a Californian dry spell
Knife to the back, brick to the face
The list goes on and on and on
I love you like a faulty circuit
I ain’t got solder to spare
I think you got it straight
Grouchy sad sack songs can suck it
|
||||
4. |
||||
My God, you’re a regular Nietzsche
Adorno, Foucault, Plato and Marx
Those names taste good on your tongue, I’ll bet
You don’t know it and I don’t know it,
But I bet ya couldn’t write this shit.
|
||||
5. |
||||
6. |
||||
It’s “shame shame” on the kids
Tired critiques stain the newspaper page
“We keep breeding robots” says the robot.
|
||||
7. |
||||
You’re full of false love
Your money’s spilling out your mouth
Young corpses taste mighty sweet to the saints in the high rise
I think I can read your lips, and they say; “Don’t worry child, the Good Father loves you”
|
||||
8. |
||||
*unintelligible bullshit
|
||||
9. |
20 Seconds of Ear Rape
00:21
|
|||
I’m wondering how I’d be if I never knew you
With teeth bared, my youth was your quarry
That is what I will always tell myself
|
||||
10. |
||||
Discipline looks a lot like my boot heel
Feels like a club, the back of my hand
When you’re out of line the belt’s off
The belt’s always off
The belt’s always off
The belt’s always off
|
||||
11. |
||||
Your bedsheets smell like crime
Mine reek of overtime
Willing clocks to reverse
To a time before monochrome clothes and whitewashed walls
I’ll brand you a deviant in my jealous hate
For there’s no love here
I sold it.
|
||||
12. |
Death to All Weaboos
03:45
|
|||
13. |
||||
Hope is for people who can buy it
The truth is for people who can lie their way out of telling it
|
The Field Where I Died California
TFID is a grouping of musicians from around the world particularly the US and Europe. Our goal is abuse, destroy, and spread chaos through our music.
Contact The Field Where I Died
Streaming and Download help
If you like The Field Where I Died, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp