One Year Later...

By Robb Flynn

One year ago I watched the horrifying murder of Heather Heyer at the hands of white supremists in Charlottesville, VA. I was stunned, saddened, shocked, confused, frustrated, appalled, and disgusted.  20 minutes later I  wrote the vast majority of the lyrics to the song below.

As I was in the studio at the time, I hopped into the vocal booth and recorded the words I had just written down, (to a new song we had just tracked) in a spontaneous, emotional, stream-of-conscious venting of primal rage.  Nearly everything I sang that day ended up in final recording.

Sadly, one year later those words are as a relevant today as they were when I wrote them, as I watch that same group of white supremacist hold yet another rally in front of the White House. The fucking White House! The highest office of our great country.

And since the leader of our great country, the president of the United States, won’t condemn the white supremists holding a “unite the right” rally in front of the White House today, I’ll say what he should’ve said…

Fuck all those white supremist piece of shit assholes at the unite the right rally!

Respect to the people protesting those worthless fucks! ✊🏻

Fuck the world!
Sick of the laughter
Sick of the pain
Sick of the feeling, this feeling of shame
Sick of the white folks privileged and vain
Protesting a culture that isn't the same

Don't blame the false elites
When Nazi assholes march the streets
So call me a hypocrite call me a fake
It's nothing compared to your pride and your hate

Dead and bloated
These times are volatile
There's no room left for you
Dead and bloated
There's no room left for you
These times are volatile

Volatile, volatile, volatile, volatile, volatile
This world is fucking volatile

Sick of the racists
Sick of the shit
Sick of them telling me it's immigrants
Sick of the phonies on my phone screen
Sick of the NRA trying to scare me

Stop crying innocence
Stop claiming self-defense
Good men won't speak because they're scared of the violence
But bad men keep screaming to fill up the silence

Dead and bloated
These times are volatile
There’s no room left for you

Break it, smash it, burn it to the ground!

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