My stomach turns with cheap wine and sick words
My head throbs with rage for Milwaukee cops
My chest heaves for scratching scars and bruised knees
My hands itch to strangle you and eat the rich
But my body is a commodity that feels like it's not for me
If my body can make me money then it's all the same to me
If I can't sell it one way, I'll sell it another//
Make a buck of all you suckers
If I can't sell t one way, I'll sell it another//
Give me all your money, fuckers
My heart jumps for everyone who's locked up
My feet run from screaming men while I have fun
My teeth grind when your face is on my mind
My throat screams when you say those things to me
But my body is a commodity that feels like it's not for me
If my body can make me money then it's all the same to me
If I can't sell it one way, I'll sell it another//
Make a buck of all you suckers
If I can't sell t one way, I'll sell it another//
Give me all your money, fuckers
Sydney group Bloods decamped to Seattle to make this brief, punchy EP that pairs punk attitude with sky-high hooks. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 20, 2020
This excellent EP swings from lurching post-hardcore to shadowy dark rock, anchored by a shattering vocal performance. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 20, 2018