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The Sainte Catherines
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Fuck Me With a Bag Over My Head
I can't see your head.
It's just a sinking stone.
No imagination, my confrontation：
Give me a break!
Your company is a killing machine.
Your employees are fucking sick.
Throw the key and make a wish.
I'll put my fist up in the air, let's overcome!
'This machine kills fascists'
Well... their machine is killing us all.
Break the mold,
untie your neck,
cover your eyes,
say your prayers.
There's a new city that we need to see.
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There's a new wall that we need to paint over to believe it's all true.
There is no issue; lock your door.
They're not your heroes. They're not your friends.
The snake is out and he's teaming with the wolves.
It's going to blow now.
Watch it burn yeah, with a corner smile
'til the next corner store.
Then stop, you burn. You are close to disaster.
I choose to bring my own bag.
Pick it up, throw it in the fire.
Are you a lifetime member of the NRA?
But you lost your card... how sad, You are dead.
This movement, we own it. Don't trade it for their gold.
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