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Red Razing

by Growth, Sacral

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1.
They bled the Earth dry Filthy billionaires Soar through the dead sky To reach their new lair For centuries they have despoiled Coerced, killed and forced into toil As they burn the last drop of oil They workers are now left to broil Huge profits secured and stacked For voracious trophozoits There’s nothing left to extract Too few people to exploit As they fly / through the / mesosphere Aboard / their high-tech / Noah’s Ark They look down / one last / time and sneer Before / diving in / to the dark The Earth they destroyed Filthy billionaires Soar through the dark void To reach their new lair Industrial technocracy This new space aristocracy Is heading to the Red planet Where no man has done business yet A new place to desecrate Ressources to burn away To thwart a bleak earthly fate Keep thriving in luxury Upon this new territory They’ll set a gruesome colony Using lab-grown slaves from stem cells They won’t have rebellions to quell When they exhaust Mars Filthy billionaires Will fly to the stars / reach for the stars To find a new lair There’s no hope to be found When the rich leave the earth For plebs trapped on the ground There will be no rebirth
2.
The air is oppressive in the mines, Corridors, twisting and claustrophobic. Working my fingers to the bone, As I push my body past reasonable limits. Another torn ligament, Another heavy machinery accident. No resources for safety protocols, If I die they'll just crack another stasis pod. And when I sleep, Whispers come to me. I can't quite tell, Are they in my head or are they real? And I'm starting to doubt that there's no way out, Everyone's always told me that this is the only way to be. But I'm getting angry with how this work pains me, There's nothing to lose but my chains. Enough whispers have led me here. Furtive glances, subtle motions, To the ancient, decommissioned tunnels, Long thought to be sealed off. Disused equipment lines the walls--repaired and organized. We've always known our true nature: Clones, engineered to be strong and obedient. But everyone has a breaking point, and we're long past ours. Plasma cutters and remote charges, No one else has the expertise. The tools of oppression become our weapons For the Red Tunnel Rebellion! There is no doubt, this is the only way out, And now I see that maybe we can be free. We've gotten angry, the guards have grown lazy, I understand now that my people can save me. We will unite, we will strike in the night, We have nothing to lose but our chains. Every shock prod returned at once! Every blow from a truncheon, condensed into a blast! Plasma torches slice armor with ease, Beam drill cuts like some kind of laser guillotine! This complete rout was always the only way out. For the first time I'm free to shape my destiny. This is our dawn, this is our age, Born of our strife and of our rage. There are no owners, there are no kings, We commit ourselves to greater things. We do the work, we share the gains, No one is made to labor through pain. To dream of equity is a mark of the sane, To create a world unbound by chains.

about

Split with Growth. The entirety of the split is also available on their page, as well as the rest of their work: eternalgrowth.bandcamp.com

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credits

released October 19, 2022

To Mars!
DIY’ed by Growth

Red Tunnel Rebellion
Ash: everything

Mastering: Dr Riffenstein

Artwork provided by the Filthy Billionnaire Foundation for Tax Avoidance

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Sacral Boston, Massachusetts

Sacral (adj) - Pertaining to sacred rites or observances.

Often refers to the second chakra, which relates to emotion, creativity, self-expression, sexuality, and emotional well-being.

While "sacral" is usually pronounced with a long A (SAY-krull), the band name is pronounced with a short A (SACK-rull) to emphasize its common root with "sacrificial."

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