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Arms Aloft - Three altars for rats

from taches noires vivantes / living black spots by GUERILLA ASSO

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The rats are in the corn again, and our faith’s been all but shattered. The cat’s in the cradle, fast asleep, his lungs in ragged tatters. But living will is to mercy kill as standing still is to going backwards. We’re being fucking dragged there. When “protect and serve” tastes like a curse and the baton swings by default, we don’t need a goddamn weatherman to know on whom the rain falls. All the resolve of a dead dog’s bite. All the brilliance of a thousand points of light. Swallow your words and try to keep your voice down. Truth for a truth. Lie for a lie. Let the bastards spend 10,000 restless nights, every hair on the back of their necks alive with the burning glare of grieving mothers’ eyes, in no short supply. Agent provocateurs: Rats in a cheaply sewn disguise. If you’re lucky, they’ll let you foot the bill for the mace that’s in your eyes. But big enough carrot, long enough stick and we’ll swear we’re immune to the sting of the whip and chomp at the bit of scraps they’ve cast aside. Tooth for crooked tooth. Eye for blind eye. Let the bastards hang 100 stories high. Serve as shade from the glare of the harsh sunlight for those they saw as merely rungs on which to rise, on the wings of flies.

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from taches noires vivantes / living black spots, released March 10, 2015

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GUERILLA ASSO Paris, France

DIY FRENCH PUNK LABEL, GIGS & DISTRO

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