Hatred Swarm - Funeral Chic

Cut them off at the knees

Show them all what’s like to be drained of their blood, laying cold in their

very own chalkline

A debt they owe that must be paid in blood in order to understand what is wrong

Bankrolled by the ones they put in bags

Snitches, killers and thieves

No good deed, no vision of safety, no will to serve, no will to protect

Hatred swarm o’er me

May they bleed you out until the white in your flag and the blue in your suit

run the deepest shade of red, 'til no more blood is left