Was what it was and now it's done.
A to point B, fucking 2 seconds.
A keen eyelid twitch both fists clamped air.
Years have wrung out patience and despair.
Move your shit.
Do it fast.
The rugged few.
Textbook of grindcore manners past.
Fear of never returning again.
Gonna die for this madness.
Precious bucket lists are full of shit.
Skid etiquette.
For the rugged few, fucking move!
Now, fists weighed down with dream like lead.
Move Your Gear.
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
