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lyrics

Try and talk to me by staining the streets?
Cowering behind your mask of concrete.
If multiculture is genocide,
then separatism is eating yourself alive.

She walks her dog dressed to the 9s,
A self-respect that's in sad decline.
It scars the eye, but doesn't scream out loud.
She tears you down, I could not be more proud.

No choice but to walk these Violentacrez
Watched on by accusing neighbours.
I sweat for this, but do you listen?
Survival's not living, when you drink from the stream you piss in.

Your love stretched out like a poisoned vine.
It chocks your children over time.
What offspring a faceless parent nurtures?
You watch on proud, while they're desecrating Chvrches.

You're debasing, what you're facing.
No erasing hearts with stains in.

credits

from Of Warriors, Saints and Sinners, released November 26, 2016

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The Clown Calls For War Isle of Man

Carried on the infamous Manx winds, The Clown Calls For War produce dynamic, soaring, ambient, (often) instrumental post-rock, that's as changeable as the rest of the Manx weather.

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