Pure Hatred from PURE HATRED by Dire Need

Buckled on the street
Iron capped
With the bootstraps loose
And a cocky stance
The working class man, that will always outlast
Till his last breath
Turns into a gasp

You’re not blood
You’re barely family
With your chest puffed up
Like a target mark
Thrown into the curb
Muddied in crimson
Gasping and drowning
With his last breath

To the victor comes the spoiled
Battered with open hands
The once so proud in a basement room
Swallowing his teeth
With jaw detached
You want to sort it out
Well you got sorted
Mice to dogs
Opened up like a can.
The working class man that will always outlast
Til his last breath
Turns into a gasp

Pure hatred, inside
Pure hatred, defined
Pure hatred, confide
Pure hatred.

• Rock
• blackened powerviolence
• doom
• hardcore
• Melbourne