Cripple Bastards / P.E.L.M.E. 7″

COMMENTARY:
Like a slap, contempt bends my eyes to the ground
obtrusion…
I can’t tolerate life if the compromise is “love thy neighbour..”
and my place is a flat holed up in this grave you called town.
social integration…
isn’t it like being cattle in the slaughterhouse
factories, banks, supermarkets,
“thy neighbour” infects the oxigene I breathe
churches, schools, car-parks,
what I see, hear and feel is always the opposite of what I need.
P.S.:
“Choose mediocrity be happy.
Choose happiness, be mediocre”

Sex is your key to open new doors,
the depth of your hidden degradation.
One of the few natural properties
you had left at your disposal,
and you made use of it in a so miserable way.
Sex is your passport for being considered “experienced”
deactivate the bomb – don’t let your naturalness mature.
Fuck and accept to be fucked, your limits are defined.
SEXUAL HYSTERIA – SOCIAL AFFLUENCE
SEXUAL HYSTERIA – SOCIAL AFFLUENCE

Every sub-citizen’s social obligation
is to fall in a meaningless breach,
then drag cross & nails in front of the jury,
be condemned and pay,
spit bowels till the last coin,
the last millilitre of blood. JURISDICTIONS
Available for being the exploitable…
we work to give back the mere shit that we’ve earned.
Registered at their court, a signature to a file,
we increase civil power
and demote basic rights. JURISDICTIONS
P.S.:
“money from social zeros like me and you”
the definite aim their justice stands for.

Stifling enthusiasm you dominate through TV-lies,
stealing fancy and hopes you support suicide.

INDIVIDUAL:
This morning I woke up so restless, coldly dumb,
recalling the night I knocked at your door
and heard a voice answering “nobody’s in”
the feeling – a tangle of hands covering my head
I wished I had turned your light down
and tasted the pleasure of opening wounds,
cummed rage and freedom until you died.
“The ways I could kill you” is my favourite dream
“The ways I could kill you” is my favourite wish
swallow fragments of blades – melt in boiled oil,
the more you scream and suffer the more my eyes cry for joy.
UNIVERSAL:
This morning I woke up so different, tense,
wondering why my choice has always been convenience,
how could solitude be more oppressive
than cohabiting with a mass of goats;
the only frequency modulated for my brain is horror, 24 h. a day,
black labyrinths of sadism, malevolence and pain.
Human extinction is my highest hope,
a clean world for plants and animals,
a never-ending circle of cruelties for you,
and for all those who renounced freedom for this social shit.
COMMENTARY:
Fuck your illusive charity… “philanthropy”
clean the Earth with your own blood,
give place to nature and oxigene,
terminate the human race.
Ecology must be the only conscience driving us to………….

Let me disappear, withdrawn in a world
where “values” like charm and seduction don’t mean a fucken shit,
once you claimed for sexual equality,
now you’re the Nr.1 barrier opposed to prejudice-free mentality
YOU CAN’T FUCKIN’ HURT ME RINGING THE CURTAIN DOWN
LIFE WON’T REALLY DEPRESS ME WITHOUT CUNTS LIKE YOU AROUND
Backward feminist you are the exploiter,
piles of slogans stuck in your brain
out of date – dust from a castrating culture,
woman reduced to a myth, equality distorted to hysteria
worse than that macho-fascist supremacy you see everywhere
YOU CAN’T FUCKIN’ HURT ME RINGING THE CURTAIN DOWN
LIFE WON’T REALLY DEPRESS ME WITHOUT CUNTS LIKE YOU AROUND
Backward feminist still pointing the finger,
an essence of plastic, boredom and dumbness,
I’ll never fall on your knees to prove I’m a man.
Tell me – who’s the object, who crossed the limit…
Society is the door, you hold the key,
tits, butts and moans. Smell of pussy to inebriate the assholes,
a mass of cunt-addicted pigs waiting in line.
YOU CAN’T FUCKIN’ HURT ME RINGING THE CURTAIN DOWN
SEX IS DAILY DEPRESSION, YOUR RULES A COMPLETE YAWN