How can we possibly repeat this pattern again and again? How much more can the earth and its people absorb before we are forced to stop this madness? Is there anything left? The bottles are empty, and as we sit here in these last days i look across the barren land. This apocalyptic sun begs for so many questions to be asked, but nothing comes to mind. Just a billion blank stares, blinking "what the fuck?"
The luxury of my privileged silence will be the death of us all.
From the sleeve of Schifosi's last record, Absentium Existence.
FUCK WORK! ALL I WANT TO DO IS DRINK COFFEE AND LISTEN TO PUNK ROCK.