It Tastes So Good (But Now I Know) [ft. David Fischer]

from by Anti-Swag Fiend Party

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  • 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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They can feel they can love; they’ve got thoughts, wants, and needs, but they don’t look like us so they bleed for our greed. Convinced from our youth we need it, but we do it to be pleased. Lobbyists and propaganda working so hard to deceive. Filled with grief and disbelief as I watch it all unfold. Mass deception as the bodies turn cold and on the machine rolls as we shell out checks to these massacre merchants, profiteers of death.

The animals that once lived free were caught and killed for needless "needs." The pets you loved were such a prize; the ones you left were euthanized. Murder in the freeze of the moment. If we have hearts, we don't show them. Made to eat, or so I've heard, but were they made for us to torture? It's just a life that met a knife. Decided once, why do it twice? The reasoning is so nebulous to justify what's in front of us: "How about the local farmer's business? Or survival of the fittest? So we can eat, God put them here. Or it tastes so good. I just don't care." It tastes so good.

No consent, I raped her – but it felt so good. Burned your house, put you in danger – but it smelled so good. I robbed him and I shot him – but it paid so good. Cook and eat the flesh it’s rotting – but it tastes so good. Someone could have saved her – but it felt so good. Someone could have stopped the flames – but it smelled so good. Someone could have wrapped the wound – but it paid so good. Someone could save the doomed – but they taste so good.

And I’m not talkin’ genocide in a far off country. It’s in your own backyard funded by your own money and you never stop to question what goes on behind those walls, don’t see the blood-soaked floors. Your final cries fall onto deaf ears, reverberating off the cold concrete. Meanwhile you chuck your rapper and continue down the street. Eyes and mind closed, since your birth, that’s how it’s gone, but how much further can you go before you realize that it’s wrong?

Unabashed hedonism, pleasure at a high cost. Three times daily satisfaction in exchange for lives lost. You’ve got an eye for a thigh, a slab for your freezer. Opacity blinds, minds stuck on a shelf go no deeper. Willful ignorance and industrialized apathy. Death disguised, your eyes distracted from catastrophe. It’s dastardly, these bastards be, cashin’ in on savagery. Murder as a product executed to a vast degree.

As the masters of self-deceit, "ignorance is bliss" is your moral code. You think a bird never opened its beak if you never heard it crow. Since a meat plant's walls aren't made of glass you have no trouble looking at it. Close your eyes to the slaughter inside because the taste makes you all addicts. And addicts you are, no use trying to deny it. "Give us food, give us fashion, put them in entertainment. We love to watch them act and we even pay for it, ignore the gory facts and we feel no shame for it." You fund the blood on the hands of those without remorse and got blood on your feet because you're wearing a corpse. Do we believe in morality? Because we sell ourselves short. Even aiming tools of death have been degraded to sport. I find science's findings found how to make animals scream loud. "Mutilation at the lab station; we've got another sick creation." I can't close my eyes anymore; I can't make it so. I couldn't tell that I was lost, but now I know.

Should I call it life or just a beast? Is this for fun or this for feast? I found a hook stuck in my mouth. I feel my bone being pulled out. You lack the care, but hear the sound. You push my corpse into the ground. You took a hook out from my eye, but you didn't see me die. And then you let me go and said that I can't possibly be dead. In markets, you only see some, corpses packaged from back to front. Since you didn't see how it's death was done, do you know which animal it came from? There's so much blood. There's so much pain. Don't you fucking turn your eyes away.


from We're Your Age (FREE DOWNLOAD), released October 21, 2011



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Anti-Swag Fiend Party Bloomington, Indiana

A duo of weirdos split across Bloomington, IN and Helsinki, Finland. We Stay squiddy. We don't feed our gremlins after midnight. And we keep our swag the hell off.

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