Sure, I’m no son
Sure, I am not a safe one
Still I pass the VIP outside the dungeon
I am a wrench
I am a knife
I have an arm full of bullets
And they spit on targets at night
These days, my veins are heavy
Try to overflow lately
Skin, teeth, blood
I found that’s what I’m made of
Skin, teeth, blood
Watch the door when I’m alone
Skin, teeth, blood
That’s what I’m made of
Sure, I’m no son
Am I the only one who holds the curse
Verse after verse, same as the first
Cold time after cold time
Breaks into the shrine
They go the extra mile
But never pass the line
These days, my veins are heavy
Try to overflow lately
Skin, teeth, blood
I found that’s what I’m made of
Skin, teeth, blood
Watch the door when I’m alone
Skin, teeth, blood
That’s what I’m made of
Sure, I’m no son
But second thought
I know you know I’m not
Cause I got caught selling ghosts in the parking lot
I am a wrench
I am a knife
I have an arm full of bullets
And they spit on targets at night
These days, my veins are heavy
Try to overflow lately
Skin, teeth, blood
I found that’s what I’m made of
Skin, teeth, blood
Watch the door when I’m alone
Terrific, marauding post-punk that will thrill fans of Idles with its pairing of cutting riffs and wry spoken/sung lyrics. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 26, 2022