Buried Inside

Kroc Of Shit
The pace of life in the city is set by the pace of the technology that serves it; The history that reserves it. Mining through soot and cinder, grinding through flesh and bone; Kroc and watt were engineers of the same breed, of the same sordid dream: volume speed efficiency. Well hoot-dog! Another orgy of shit. Another disease which purported to be the cure. Pump in the bovine hormones, dole out the shitpay. Result: all species fall under prey under circling agri-vultures; And in the end, cruelty is acknowledged only where profitability ceases. Science. Non-science. Non-sense. Aus Songtexte Mania