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Grindcore Penitentiary

from Grindcore Penitentiary by Wadge

/

lyrics

Shackled to the rail of the death bus
Down the winding pot-holed road
Stench of ass and encrusted taint
Churning quick oats just can’t wait
Neck tats bounce down the incline
Toward a razor wire pier
Cattle prod funnelled to the rusted barge
Set sail for the Isle of Gape
No bail!
No escape from the Isle of Gape
Lift tongue, spread cheeks
Lifers smell fresh meat
Slammed in the cell of this cinder block hell
Start killing your number with digits in double
Only one way to make the time move
Drum machine pulled from straight down the shitter
Programming blast beats with fecal-caked iron fingers
Traded 3 packs of Marlboros
In order to snag 2 cords
Thankfully Big Rick’s a grindcore fan
He’s run the cell block since Mad Frank got stiffed
My prison set-up might seem crude at first glance
But it isn’t much worse than what I had in the basement
Smack dab in the middle of a Defecation worship track
I realized a drum machine can’t slop blastbeats like Mick Harris in jogging pants
Put out the word echoed through corroded pipes
Needed a drummer who knew Purity Dilution inside out
Note delivered in a book which I promptly ate
Said there’d be a meet-up in the line for chow
Righteous weapon El Enano was a blur on cans
Eyelid ink stared through walls while he slept
Since El was only taking a nap
We needed to cook down lightning fast
Traded out time with a barbershop quartet
Scott Burns was serving time for using too much compression
Agreed to record our demo in exchange for kit
That reek of shit
Jumped in the showers by a power metal fan
His fist hit like a feather thrown by a butterfly
Apparently upset by our lack of pinch harmonics
Lyrics on toilet paper shoved right up the arse
Before hitting the studio, had to see a man about a horse
Throwing a piss when who should I see
They brought in Will Rahmer on 3 counts of larceny
Apparently, he’d stolen some museum swords
And original toys from that movie Star Wars
Dan Lilker cut off the sleeves
Of his prison issue jumpsuit
Everyone’s afraid of the Aussie prisoners
Mostly due to Mark ‘Chopper’ Read
They’ve got the French Canadians
Locked in segregation
Crazy as crazy gets
Can’t stop licking the bars
No one blasts it like the Québécois
They’re a breed unto themselves
One, two, three fucks they don’t give
Grunting vocals in their cells

credits

from Grindcore Penitentiary, released November 4, 2022

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