In love with the way your name looks on paper,
smothered in polish
a regular household narcotic.
A warm shoulder for the Lady Bic cutters,
hypochondriac pimps,
and pederast cult pariahs.
I’ve seen the face of god sullied and broken,
scabbed over with his own self-denial.
He begged for my compassion
I showed him none.
This I will not tolerate,
not even from you.
The Alberta crushers hold tight to their rank, astral-gazing grindcore, staring down abyssal torment all the while. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 31, 2020