you came from a village
in search of some job
but badly got pillaged
and beaten by cops
no money, no passport
just pain in your guts
you hung out with hobos
in front of a pub
the whole days you were looking
for something to eat
got lost in the city
left in the shit
each emptied glass
pushed you lower and lower
you were sinking fast
but your woes weren't over
one cold winter night
you passed out too drunk
woke up in a bed ward
with four aching stumps
incapable even
to wipe off your ass
they threw you out straight
to the clutches of death
now dressed as a soldier
in a broken wheelchair
you ask for a handout
in packed subway trains
no hope for the future
no way to survive
a sorrowful finish
of your shitty life
The Minneapolis band add a horn section, a running surrealist allegory about walls, and an occasional nod to the elegiac to their electroshocked post-punk. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 4, 2024