Vinyl Paradise from Running Strong by Tir Asleen

/Stuff your brains into the tape deck/Sign your name onto the blank check/Show them you are here/You exist/Soundwaves wet with golden paint/Tortured teens touch themselves to the song of a cardboard saint/Remove the heads/Sugar coat their throats/Record deal knives exchanges hands from sleeves of corporate coats/We watch our lives in little boxes/Go to work and check our watches/Everyone screams, "Revolution!" but no one offers me a solution/They scream our names and carry their torches/Fire off their guns from crooked porches/I can't understand the words with the film on mute/Radio towers twist together like double helixes with extra chart topping chromosomes/I hear the cry leak out like an oil spill in a vinyl paradise but what was lost/Tell me what was lost/For every album that you sell may you squirm in an earthly hell/For every dollar you make another ounce of dirt on your grave

• Experimental
• Hardcore
• Post-Hardcore
• Punk
• Calhoun