funeral chic - decorated lyrics
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pigs of law on the prowl like a pack of wolves
rats that scurry, hiding from traps, selling out brothers for food every kevlar covered, spineless f+cking body
waste of cloth, waste of protection, waste of f+cking gold
rats and pigs will see the day, ain’t enough bullets in the world
from brooklyn to babylon, the blast of a bagpipe to the tune of amazing grace ’til my ears f+cking bleed
it makes me sick, ain’t n0body payin’ for the front
to pretend to be my daddy, demanding order with an iron club
blue tails tucked and running scared, graveyards littered with the crosses they bare
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