Each one is born but they're coming out dead
My hands spell words as they fall from my head
Like a confederate flag, dad wreaks of his kin
With blood on your brow you'll cry your eyes in

Prison ghost starts to scream as they carry you out
And attrition keeps you wishing that they'd tear your mouth out
A sign on an inn is the shape when you die
And poor St. Lucia took a knife in the eye

And it hurt
It fucking hurt

The great diseases of our time
Are the soundtrack to a system with incendiary minds
And the knowledge to resist them

We can body harvest hate
And send a charge up the floor
And eliminate the causes worth fighting for
Our incendiary minds

Lyrics submitted by punkpirate

Incendiary Minds song meanings
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