We're Your Age was printed on recycled materials by Bellwether Manufacturing. It includes a double-sided fold-out "mini-poster" and you will also receive a sticker. HANDMADE LYRICS BOOKS ARE NO MORE!! We're Your Age is Anti-Swag Fiend Party's first full-length release and has 12 tracks.
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edition of 500
It's been too long a time with an itch to fill my pockets, a scratching with no screaming scraping behind my eye sockets. Now I can't keep my hands from being locked on this fixation. Keeping money when I need it provides such a gratification. You can't keep me out or in because you've got a place with borders. All I see is a space with four walls and four corners. I dress up, dress down, change all of my features. I walk in, pay $2, exit with three liters. I get back in the car and make it back to base, help my friends get drunk with a smile on my face. Still, it doesn't feel right and sometimes it's embarrassing. Some friends put me down, bet don't complain while they're receiving. And it feels like shame when every job I want I didn't get. I need my feet on the ground, but I'm not there yet. When I'm so hungry that it's woken me again, I can't help but wonder if it's what you make or what you spend.
From beyond the veil, where we hail, we emerge not as victims but as takers and we tell it in a tale. Equipped with the stance we’ll be gone before you glance, you'd never catch us or suspect us because you’d never get the chance. Praised by some friends, exposed to others’ judgments, the same people who don’t question where their support or their money went. There’s a quiver in our marrow, so we lurk within the shadows. We won’t contribute any money. Send the corporate to the gallows.
Got the mark of the beast engrained on my brain. Every time I close my eyes, I see your storefront up in flame. 'Cause I’m sick of being prodded and I won’t just fall in line at least not without your products keepin’ my pockets lined. No, it’s not the same a corporation and a person 'cause one human can’t leave a million others hurtin’. "Thou shall not steal," we’re told time after time, but how’m I supposed to buy that when we’re bein’ robbed blind. Manufacture your goods payin’ cents on the hour. Now they’re in my pocket, how’s that for consumer power? You can look down your nose. Yeah, feel free to judge, but I’m here with my five fingers and I’m not fittin’ to budge. Got my sights set not on those that do the work, but on the ones up top with their suits, ties, and shirts. ‘Cause it’s time to fight back against their corporate reign. Buy local, steal multi-national-- that’s the aim.
I'm in a Costco with a crossbow. Just trying to find my lost soul because there's an emptiness, but my MD says "buying puts off dying," but I'm not buying what you got to sell. Sky high visions but they fell so flat, but I want my American Dream 3D if I buy your flat screen T.V. Will it fill that part of me missing? Put your hands out, but I'm just pissing till I fill your corporate coffers. Try and try I won't take your offers (NO). You can find a sweet teen flower to pay 9 bucks an hour. Profits give the NRA power, so you can never ever duck this shower.