Situational Justice from Lost Cause by Cottonmouth

Tighten my noose
Hide me from view
Who knew that bad luck paid attention to me
Find a new truth
Getting a clue
Stop hallucinating that I’m born free

They called it "situational justice"
It could never happen twice
They say its "necessary roughness"
They never paid the price
Paid at all

Tear the cloth from the flag outside, I’m sick of it
Burn the list of the troops who died, I’m sick of it
Rip the veil from the wedding bride, I’m sick of it
Smash the face of the men that lied, I’m sick of it
Founding brothers, family matters first.

Bullets for your uncles
Missiles for your mothers
Ways to flex your muscles
Pointing fingers at each other
Shooting bullets at your uncles
Whistles to your mothers
Marking those who cause you trouble
Be sure to add another

Blood on your knuckles
Bodies in the gutter
Smile when you chuckle
Speak of torture never stutter
Rapid fire on the lovers
Children serve as fodder
Playing God undercover
Feels good to be Dixie land father, so damn good

Gripped by the hair, liquid flesh, I'm supposed to shutter
Slammed down on the deck, bruised to the bone, and I’m supposed to take it
Lay down and let you push it

I don’t know but I’ve seen you eyeing the past with smacking lips
I don’t but your dying to cover up the wound that drips
I don’t know but your hands will always felt cold to me
I don’t know but I was never treated like your bride to be
I don’t know but I’ve seen you eyeing the past with smacking lips
I don’t but your dying to cover up the wound that drips
I don’t know but your hands will always felt cold to me
I don't but it feels like I never had a choice

Bad luck,
Born free.

• Punk
• Rock & Roll
• Southern Hardcore
• chaotic hardcore
• hardcore
• hardcore punk
• Oklahoma City