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A recorded reading of “Empire of Dirt, Concrete Cage”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Dirt is my empire; concrete, my cage, walking these city streets, dissociated in rage. My world is ruinous, a slum of despair, a figure of darkness in this toxic air. I am the antihero, the twisted joker, a psychotic menace, a post-punk smoker. In a world of nihilism where sadness prevails, I am the Red Right Hand, the force that never fails. Death in a suit, with a sinister stride, a supernatural force, where the living can’t hide. A gothic thriller, with a taste of the dead, a zombie apocalypse, where the city is bled. This concrete cage, a brutal domain, a dissociated nightmare driving me insane. Yet even in the blackest of nights, I find a flicker of hope, a spark of light. For in this empire of dirt and decay, there lies a beauty that won't fade away. A wild freedom, an anarchy untamed, a world that’s alive, despite being maimed. Let the businessmen cling to their crumbling towers, while I roam these streets, claiming dark powers. For in horror and chaos, I carve out my way, and in the ruins of my world, I find freedom every day.
Lyrics
cut the rage Dirt is my empire, cold Concrete is my cage, closed I walk these blocks half gone Toxic air inks my lungs I drag the night by the jaw I keep my shadow fed I suit up like death, clean Red right hand makes terms I trade sleep for a way out I pace the edge for pay concrete cage, cut rage dead city feeds rage I play the antihero, wired A cracked grin sparks smoke Post-punk pulse hits bone Nihil streets hum low I flip the lock on fear I set the ruin alight Gothic glass bleeds blue Alley lights drink rain The living hide in plain sight The dead buy ads on walls concrete cage, cut rage dead city feeds rage Rot. Rust. Run. Rise. Bite. Breathe. Break. Build. concrete cage, cut rage dead city feeds rage
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