Tony Foresta - vocals
Ryan Waste - guitar
Andy Harris - bass
Brendon Trache - drums
Amendment Records
Thrashin's My Business... And Business Is Good
We thrash the streets at night
We thrash the streets at day
We slice the fucking throats of those that stand in our way
Jump in the pit
Swing your hands like a jerk
If your friends just standing round then put their ass to work
Jump in th
e pit
Punch your friends in the face
Kick them 4 or 5 times for municipal waste
Jerk Work Face Waste Go!
Sick of this, sick of all these bands ficking whining
What they need to do is learn to have a good time
And what we need to do is go and thrash the fucking streets
Thrash the fucking kids
Thrash the cops, thrash the fucking state
So many people's lives are led with nothing to believe
I wish they'd all just dissappear, I wish they'd all just freaking leave
Do you have your own thing? You probably should,
Because thrashin's my business, and business is good!
Detention Mosh Session
Man...detention fucking sucks man!
It’s 4:00 I’m staring at the walls
And all I want to do is go home
And have a one on one slam session
While listening to Sepultura
Detention Mosh Session!!!!!!
4:00 drove us mad
Forced the kids to hear light jazz
Get the teacher bound and gagged
Grab the boom box crank Black Flag!
There’s only one place this shit is possible
At Municipal High detention’s moshable
Break the fucking flags
And flip the desks
Do a stagedive off the A.C. vents!
At this school we mosh!
Man...I’ll probably get hit by a school bus anyways.
Ratbite
First...all was calm for this man
But not for long!
He just finished his day of work
The traffic was so berserk
His shortcuts show him the way
Unfortunately it won’t today!
This well mannered man
Bites on his hand
What drove him mad?
Trying to grasp his mind
Soon he’ll be out of time
What’s gotten into him?
Ratbite!
Heart pounding out of his chest
Sweat dripping through his pores
His bare hands shred victims skin
While limbs and flesh hit the floor
Bodies torn to bits all life’s lost
This man feels no remorse
First...all was calm
But now his mind is gone!
Stranger things have happened I guess
But none’s result as bloodsoaked as this!
What has gotten into his head?
Ratbite!!!!!!
Rock-Hatchet-Knife
Kicking and screaming where once you were camping
Wishing you were dreaming you’re burning not tanning
This campground is fucked!
There’s no where to flee!
Your teeth adorn jewerly
You won’t live to see!
Buried alive - Ceremonial throne
Your life until now is just meat on the bone!
Abducted by a blowdart to the throat
Unconscious due to it’s poisonous coat
Stripped of your life
With a Rock-Hatchet-Knife!
Look into their eyes
Blood dripping from their chin
As the flesh is getting ripped
From your motherfucking skin!
Nowhere to run
In a puddle of blood
As you get eaten alive by the people of mud!
Look into their eyes
And see your own fate
Your life just turned
Into something they just ate
Stripped of your life
With a Rock-Hatchet-Knife!
Floor Score
The show is done
The crowd unwinds
I wait for them to leave
To see what I can find!
Sometimes it’s gum
Sometimes it’s weed
CxMxDx
Broken bottles to the head
Look around they’re all dead
Everything stained in red
CMD you will dread!
Shreds of carnage lay in his path
No other mortal could face the wrath
He’ll pound your skull and crush your bones
Killing for metal his only jones
CMD you will dread!
Listen up or you’ll be dead!
With Slayer carved into his arms
The city better be alarmed!
Church windows fall!
When you hear his call!
CMD you will dread!
Listen up or you’ll be dead!
Crazy and sober
He’ll run you over
Broken bottles to the head
No one left standing when it’s all over
It’s CMD you will dread!
Sometimes it’s just a stage diver
Who flipped and lost his keys!
I’ve found spare change
Which has kept me fed
I’ve found half pairs of shoes
Until I’m seeing red!
Like striking oil sometimes
You know when Klampit shot the crude
Instead of finding lots of oil
You snag a shirt from some poor dude!
Why are we looking down? (Floor Score!)
What have we left behind? (Floor Score!)
Why are they looking around? (Floor Score!)
Tell me what you have found!
Scan the floor side to side!
Sometimes lighters are all you find
Floor score!!!
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Punch your friends in the face
Kick them 4 or 5 times for municipal waste
Jerk Work Face Waste Go!
Sick of this, sick of all these bands ficking whining
What they need to do is learn to have a good time
And what we need to do is go and thrash the fucking streets
Thrash the fucking kids
Thrash the cops, thrash the fucking state
So many people's lives are led with nothing to believe
I wish they'd all just dissappear, I wish they'd all just freaking leave
Do you have your own thing? You probably should,
Because thrashin's my business, and business is good!
Detention Mosh Session
Man...detention fucking sucks man!
It’s 4:00 I’m staring at the walls
And all I want to do is go home
And have a one on one slam session
While listening to Sepultura
Detention Mosh Session!!!!!!
4:00 drove us mad
Forced the kids to hear light jazz
Get the teacher bound and gagged
Grab the boom box crank Black Flag!
There’s only one place this shit is possible
At Municipal High detention’s moshable
Break the fucking flags
And flip the desks
Do a stagedive off the A.C. vents!
At this school we mosh!
Man...I’ll probably get hit by a school bus anyways.
Ratbite
First...all was calm for this man
But not for long!
He just finished his day of work
The traffic was so berserk
His shortcuts show him the way
Unfortunately it won’t today!
This well mannered man
Bites on his hand
What drove him mad?
Trying to grasp his mind
Soon he’ll be out of time
What’s gotten into him?
Ratbite!
Heart pounding out of his chest
Sweat dripping through his pores
His bare hands shred victims skin
While limbs and flesh hit the floor
Bodies torn to bits all life’s lost
This man feels no remorse
First...all was calm
But now his mind is gone!
Stranger things have happened I guess
But none’s result as bloodsoaked as this!
What has gotten into his head?
Ratbite!!!!!!
Rock-Hatchet-Knife
Kicking and screaming where once you were camping
Wishing you were dreaming you’re burning not tanning
This campground is fucked!
There’s no where to flee!
Your teeth adorn jewerly
You won’t live to see!
Buried alive - Ceremonial throne
Your life until now is just meat on the bone!
Abducted by a blowdart to the throat
Unconscious due to it’s poisonous coat
Stripped of your life
With a Rock-Hatchet-Knife!
Look into their eyes
Blood dripping from their chin
As the flesh is getting ripped
From your motherfucking skin!
Nowhere to run
In a puddle of blood
As you get eaten alive by the people of mud!
Look into their eyes
And see your own fate
Your life just turned
Into something they just ate
Stripped of your life
With a Rock-Hatchet-Knife!
Floor Score
The show is done
The crowd unwinds
I wait for them to leave
To see what I can find!
Sometimes it’s gum
Sometimes it’s weed
CxMxDx
Broken bottles to the head
Look around they’re all dead
Everything stained in red
CMD you will dread!
Shreds of carnage lay in his path
No other mortal could face the wrath
He’ll pound your skull and crush your bones
Killing for metal his only jones
CMD you will dread!
Listen up or you’ll be dead!
With Slayer carved into his arms
The city better be alarmed!
Church windows fall!
When you hear his call!
CMD you will dread!
Listen up or you’ll be dead!
Crazy and sober
He’ll run you over
Broken bottles to the head
No one left standing when it’s all over
It’s CMD you will dread!
Sometimes it’s just a stage diver
Who flipped and lost his keys!
I’ve found spare change
Which has kept me fed
I’ve found half pairs of shoes
Until I’m seeing red!
Like striking oil sometimes
You know when Klampit shot the crude
Instead of finding lots of oil
You snag a shirt from some poor dude!
Why are we looking down? (Floor Score!)
What have we left behind? (Floor Score!)
Why are they looking around? (Floor Score!)
Tell me what you have found!
Scan the floor side to side!
Sometimes lighters are all you find
Floor score!!!