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End of the Road

from End of the Road​.​.​. by Desert Ratt

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lyrics

Yes that's right, I'm done my friends, It seems the time has come.
I've grown tired of everything. I've become so numb.
Bodies fall and ashes rise, a killers on the run.
It seems that we're all staring down the barrel of this gun.
The man who tried to fix it all tells us we will lose.
The rope swings from the gallows pole as they tie the hangman's noose.

Swinging round, they cut him down, the crowd begins to cheer.
The butcher draws his blade and auctions pieces of his ear.
"Art is dead" he tells the crowd "now come and get your fill."
Ratts tear off whats left of him before the crowd is killed.
They cried out in fear as they try for one last stand.
Gunned down by the laws they passed, the blood dries on our hands.

In pools of filth they wonder now, "who will build the roads."
Cities brought down to their knees - they must obey the code.
Fascists knock just once before they burst open the door.
The Family's at the table while we crawl under their floor.
We made it out just in time to hear the gunshots ring.
Maybe we will listen when their ghosts begin to sing.

credits

from End of the Road​.​.​., released February 26, 2020

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Desert Ratt Los Lunas, New Mexico

New Mexico Antifolk straight from the gutters of the southern sun! Drinkin', shoutin' havin'-a-good-time folk music.

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