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Flensed and Wrung

from The End of Ethnology by Wadge

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lyrics

Knuckles white, the grip sets in
Take hold of steel with baited breath
Two-fisted, mind has crossed the hairs
The edge is breached
No going back, the time has come
This race of rapists flensed and wrung
To accolades the victor’s wear
Bones of speech
Only here for moments in the scheme
Self-absorbed, the egotist cannot be redeemed
Quadruped are marching full on steam
Brimming with the end of ethnology
Obsolescence fully planned
Another cycle sworn to pass
The manifest reveals the list
All crushed beneath the iron fist
Lone wolf strolls down a dead end street
Sniffs momentarily for meat
Residual and faint of trace
Bygone stink of a worthless race

credits

from The End of Ethnology, released November 11, 2016

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