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• Artiste: Propagandhi
• Titre: Benito's Earlier Work
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Blood and soil by any other name It all turns out the same But I'm immune Benito's earlier work, a distinctly different tone Than that of the grand buffoon marching his worms through Rome What can we infer from such crossings of the floor? I'm not sure it really matters anymore Divination through the inspection of the entrails Of a society gone completely off the rails Optimal group size, scaling ratios suggest What any goddamn half-wit could've guessed My only remaining goal was to leave this world without Actually killing someone, I find myself harbouring doubts There's a Venn diagram emerging from the mist I don't think you're gonna like what it suggests Sometimes you must go too far To find out where your boundaries are You say that God has chosen you Well, I've been busy choosing too When your deceptions finally fail We will inspect the remaining entrails Narcissistic, Machiavellian Sadistic, straight-up Orwellian Stand back, let's have a look at you The little Quisling that you've turned into Blood and soil by any other name You've weaponized your pain Destined to fail from the start As most catastrophes are Ancient contagions exhumed Turns out that no one's immune