From Russian Torrents With Love
from How To Kill a Dead Franchise by PlasticBag FaceMask
lyrics
Don't you see
Miss America walks with me
But don't doubt her mystery
You know she could be you
False envy
I've spit the seeds of your jealousy
They stole the color from the leaves
And taught us dead is the new true
Sailed the ocean blue or the River Styx?
Built a house made from blood-stained bricks
We blemished her gown now the colors all mix
She hasn't worn white since ‘76
The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen
Lies and their consequence
Are no commodities
They used to both be worth two cents
But now we get them free.
Nothing but a group of strangers who play.
By shooting at our our soft, pink layers.
Hitting veins is the American way.
But hitting arteries puts you in our thoughts and prayers.
The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen
His finger held over the button,
Weighed down by the pre-diamond industry,
Mistaken the kings for pawns,
To help fuel his fantasy.
Castles built on the shore of industry.
The tide is laced with lye.
Our leaders have the power to kill
Without the power to die.
The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen
His finger held over the button,
Weighed down by the pre-diamond industry,
Mistaken the kings for pawns,
To help fuel his fantasy.
Miss America walks with me
But don't doubt her mystery
You know she could be you
False envy
I've spit the seeds of your jealousy
They stole the color from the leaves
And taught us dead is the new true
Sailed the ocean blue or the River Styx?
Built a house made from blood-stained bricks
We blemished her gown now the colors all mix
She hasn't worn white since ‘76
The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen
Lies and their consequence
Are no commodities
They used to both be worth two cents
But now we get them free.
Nothing but a group of strangers who play.
By shooting at our our soft, pink layers.
Hitting veins is the American way.
But hitting arteries puts you in our thoughts and prayers.
The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen
His finger held over the button,
Weighed down by the pre-diamond industry,
Mistaken the kings for pawns,
To help fuel his fantasy.
Castles built on the shore of industry.
The tide is laced with lye.
Our leaders have the power to kill
Without the power to die.
The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen
His finger held over the button,
Weighed down by the pre-diamond industry,
Mistaken the kings for pawns,
To help fuel his fantasy.
credits
from How To Kill a Dead Franchise,
released May 13, 2018
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
PlasticBag FaceMask Fresno, California
Est. 2008.
Studio band of Patrick Hogan (Time Bomb, Bookburner) and Jacob Lee (Keeper, Elder Devil, Hellish Form, dontcryformeimalreadydead)
Live shows are about as rare as unicorns.
discography
-
Dec 2022 -
May 2021 -
Feb 2021 -
Nov 2020
contact / help
PlasticBag FaceMask recommends:
-
Fragments Of Hell
by Elder DevilGuitarist's grindcore band.
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Drummer’s project with vocalist Andrew Rodriguez.
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Drummer's solo project; mathy deathcore.
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Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly. Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant.
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Blackening Skies
by Into The SiloChicago deathcore outfit Into the Silo torch everything in sight on this searing new LP with riffs that will leave bruises.
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