TRASH TALK LYRICS

"The Hand That Feeds"

Struck down like dogs. You live on hand and knee and wait for nothing.
A tangled mass of flesh and teeth, bite back the hand that feeds.
The song remains the same: stillborn unto their pain.
Submission stretched from head to toe across your lifeless frame.
Kill or be killed.
Sin or be blessed.
Bite of the hand.
Taste of the flesh

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Punk Lyrics | T | TRASH TALK