Dead Flesh from Unfulfilled by Dear Bongo

Some folks are meant to live faster
Well, sometimes it's not up to them
Some folks are meant to die younger
By the hands of other men
They call it "workplace devotion"
But it's a silent butchery
Still is a frightening, subdued notion
That papers just don't let us read

Working class is still dead flesh

Who knows how many have died so far
Maybe crashed by a press?
Explosions, tumors, cuts and scars
Entangled in electric nets
A beam fell on a student boy
While he was doing PTSO
He was the homeland's pride and joy
And that's the company's "Welcome"

Working class is still dead flesh

• Punk
• garage punk rock
• noise
• post-punk
• Italy