'm retchin g on the dirt,
It's earthiness coating my throat.
I'm wincing on the bitterest pill.
I refuse to swallow.
I'm offered the warm of avelvet gloves,
An iron fist to some.
I'm treated like a scab.
A traitor to my kind.
I'm hounded by white-right might
That wants the country pure.
I'm licensed by those in awe
I'm Retching On The Dirt
текст песни Napalm DeathКомментарии:
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