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Rats

by EN GARDE

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lyrics

We may be rats but this ain't a race.

To the death. To my friends. To the stone-cold bitter end. We commute to the grave; a procession of willing slaves.

We're choking on half-Windsors. I can't fucking breath. Your high street, pinstripe conscience ain't so squeaky clean.

I don't get it. I never fucking did. And it's endemic. We may be rats but this ain't a race.

To the bone. In our blood. A plague is spreading through our lungs. Why do we still compete in a race that just can't be won?

We're choking on half-Windsors. I can't fucking breath. Your high street, pinstripe conscience ain't so squeaky clean.

I don't get it. I never fucking did. And it's endemic. We may be rats but this ain't a race.

credits

released January 31, 2015
Snake Eyes - The Rattler - PI$$$ - Viper - Slowworm

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PUNK / ROCK / ROLL

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