Napalm Death I'm Retching On The Dirt текст песни, слова песни I'm Retching On The Dirt Napalm Death
Napalm Death - I'm Retching 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
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