Cowered in fear at the foot of a phallus
The blocks are in place at the Vatican palace
Constructed to get what you want when you want it
Crusading invading the uterine wall
A nuclear winter in darkness is dawning
A blanket asbestos so silently lies
In clutching for warmth the familiar is gone
In the backseats the children of mothers they cry
Why is the world made this way?
Who is your god? Where is he now?
Why won’t he answer your prayers?
No. You can never convince me
That you aren’t the one disguising himself
“The image and likeness of man”
Bend to our whim or be eternally damned
Prey on insecurity. Eat out of our hand
Give all you have and in the end we’ll sell you a spot
Your name on a slab while you silently rot
Tax free rejoice
Gods will be damned
Blood on your hands
Gods will be damned
Tax free rejoice
Gods will be damned
Boston indie rock stalwarts Pile pair lyrical brooding with their trademark askew chord progressions for a sense of magnificent tension. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 18, 2017