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• Artiste: Taxpayers (The)
• Titre: Weapon Of God
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Dead black meadows, crimson waves, these broken nightmares on your plate; believe me, I am a weapon of god too. Crumbled bones inside a sock, the ticking of a busted watch. The storm is a thunderous, dark applause, and my love is locked in a pitbull's jaws. Believe me, I am a weapon of god too. Bridges burn and children scream – their faith is shaken so easily. But not mine. I'm made of concrete beams, you'll see. Believe me, I am a weapon of god too. Cats are screaming out in back; they've all been stuffed into gunny sacks. The Johnson boy started selling crank. This neighborhood has gone to shit. But believe me, I am a weapon of god too.