Washout from Yeah... by MAST

When the taking is done, there will be nothing to survive on/ for. Dreams of breathing will be choked off. This is a washout. Watch helplessly as tides climb earth. Currents overpower shells break open. Subside, leaving pearls on gold shores. The water like a monster pulls hostages down to Davey Jones locker. Anchors without vessels on the ocean floor. Bursts of oxygen cascade up toward the surface like weightless angels. Shimmering explosions expel the dream . No trace will be left of them. All blood shall be squeezed from stone. This is the extermination of working class America.

• Rock
• Providence