Lamb of God - O.D.G.A.B.F.E.

Hate
Falling three feet to the ground
Face down on the cold floor of a well-oiled SF pigsty
I met my one true love
Feel youth crushed somewhere between concrete & boot
Another victim of the lower hate
You are not my god
You think this is funny don't you, pig?
How the helpless freak squirms beneath our state
Sanctioned soles, but what is he laughing at?
There was nothing padded about a wagon full of mace
Rotator cuff hyper extends behind my back ribs cracking
Beneath a rain of sticks & heels
Falling down like the rain outside
Oh yeah bitch, I'm gonna remember your face
Your name, your number
And when I crawl out of this hole
I'm going to make you all mine
Auschwitz, Kent State, Chi-Town, 68 Tiananmen, Waco