I tripped, I fell, I wound up in hell
I'm so lost in my own mind, you can't even tell
Erase my conscious, delete my dreams
I'm better off with nowhere to lean
What good is this reason, if it fails to make me believe?
I wanna swing so badly, but if I do I'm nobody
I still believe
I'm nobody
This is me, who I am, toe the line
Poor means a fist
A fucked up ploy against the youth today
To keep up chasing some minimum wage
A product of your reason
And I'm sick with this rage
What good is this reason, if it fails to make me believe?
I wanna swing so badly, but if I do I'm nobody
If anyone thought hardcore was dead, Purgatory lets us know it is very much alive and enraged. What started with Suicidal Tendencies in the 80s and rose to prominence with Biohazard (and so many more great bands) in the 90s continues to rage on. I'm raging with them . . . until the war against ignorance and greed and lies and hypocrisy and inequality and all those awful, evil -isms is won. Diogenes Grief
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