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Superstition

by Funeral Chic

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  • Funeral Chic - Superstition (Limited Edition Red LP)
    Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    1st pressing, 250 copies, originally retail only, but some made available on Bandcamp.

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  • Funeral Chic - Superstition CD
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

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  • Funeral Chic - Superstition - Limited Edition LP
    Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Purple with Black Haze LP, 150 copies pressed

    Includes unlimited streaming of Superstition via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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1.
I am fuckin' tired, I am physically ill, I'm still gonna swing my hammer and chains 'til my eyes roll back every day. The only threat to mercy I have is pain and that shit ain't in short supply. Zoloft in my zone until i get my fill or I'm so goddamn happy I cry. Blood comin' out of my nose. Smile on my face. Running from God. Livin' for pain. Howlin' at the moon on my borrowed time, whippin' & sleepin' in the Devil's ride. Ain't got nothin' and I don't want any more. Forever rotten to the fucking core.
2.
Superstition 02:02
Bad attitude, cold left hand, guarding every soul in the wrong side. Beyond every spiritual debt, the cards of the dirtiest dealer. I want to know what it's like to hustle in the shade. What follows what follows me? Ain't nothin' scarier than death's own dread. The shit that hides under the Reaper's bed. To find a reason to wield a scythe, hide your face in a brilliant disguise. Fear the reaper superstition. Unimaginable Fucking Terror.
3.
Left Alone 03:08
I disrespect everything alive. Yes, even you. Yes, even me. Plant me in the dirt, gag order the fucking world for my fucking funeral. give me some peace and fucking quiet. Only horror in my mind I'll never identify. Fear and loathin', man. I want solitude and lies. No more words, no one cares. No, not even you. No, not even me. Goddamn this world. Don't want pain, dont want no more time to waste. Don't want shit, don't want life, don't even want to die. Don't want leather, don't want lace, I don't even want a name. I want to be left alone.
4.
Jump 01:21
I know that you're not feelin it but lets get down to business. Give us all your time, we'll keep you out of prison. You step out of line, you get the axe, we get your soul. You fuckin' judas, know your role. I feel the grip every day, ripping one by one at my ribcage. I know they don't want me here. I know they want me dead, they know i want to die, but I got work to do, bills to pay. If they ask where I'm from, where I've been or where I'm goin, tell these motherfuckers that I went and jumped. Jesus fucking christ almighty, fuck this. I'm out.
5.
Baptized 01:16
Hooded preacher got a gun to your head. Baptized in chloroform. No pride, no stars, only bars. It all dies with you and yours. Given no weapon of choice by the power. They don't know what it's like to live in vicious desperation. I will bet your fucking sheets and burning crosses you will feel every pain. Hooded preacher got a gun to his head, baptized in chloroform. Vicious desperation belongs to you and you fucking earned it.
6.
Deep Pockets 02:24
Both my hands around your fucking neck, squeeze just to keep your mouth shut just for long enough that someone might fucking ask you. To deal in pain and to do it well is dangerous with thin skin and glass houses. You exist in the softest realm. Product of mothers flashy grin and daddy's money. Baby born with a silver spoon, know your role and eat your fucking food. Pockets so goddamn deep they swallow us whole, nowhere to go, but down or out for blood. Don't act so shocked and fucking sick, when we scratch and claw ourselves the fuck out.
7.
Clock is ticking, my path was set. Like a train built on the tracks bringing everything down. Watching it all go off the rails. Headlong into a fucking brick wall. Can't see past 27. Got only body horror. I am in fucking pain. Off the rails. I've lived too many lives and felt too much. I feel goddamn concluded, ride's almost over. Headlong into a brick fucking wall. My ambition is a coffin, my bloodline is cursed. In my soul a fucking nightmare. My soapbox, a hearse.
8.
Decorated 01:55
Pigs of law on the prowl like a pack of wolves. Rats that scurry, hiding from traps, selling out brothers for food. Every kevlar covered, spineless fucking body. Waste of cloth, waste of protection, waste of fucking gold. Rats and pigs will see the day, aint enough bullets in the world. From Brooklyn to Babylon, the blast of a bagpipe to the tune of Amazing Grace 'til my ears fucking bleed. It makes me sick, aint nobody payin' for the front. To pretend to be my daddy, demanding order with an iron club. Blue tails tucked and running scared, graveyards littered with the crosses they bare.
9.
Stay Useless 01:36
Holler and swing and twist a fucking limb. Every nightmare will begin and end with you and me. Nothin' but a lonely noose tailor made for you. Give 'em the rope. Scratch at the nerve. Feel my pain. If this is what drains me, if I am to swing, I will not swing alone. You standing in the chair next to mine ready to kick it. Don't fucking touch me, nobody asked me. Born to suffer, born to die, born to stay useless. Dead dogs aint callin' shit. Stray cats will claw at this.
10.
Believe in the needle. Believe in the noose. Believe in the knife. Believe in you. Loveless and hopeless. Needles and nooses. The depression generation. When it rains, it fucking pours. If it's ink, it's going to dry. If it bleeds, it's going to die. If it's rigged, it's fucking time. Believe in the needle. Believe in the noose. Believe in the knife. Believe in you. Suffer together forever.
11.
Red Laces 04:07
Waged war on personal soil. Somebody buries their son, frontless and cold. Plucked from the ditch he'll be left. Stripped of power forever. No redemption, no salvation. Just a decrepit fucking relic. He had it coming. He fucking got it. Every chain they swing, flag they wave is mine. Beyond respect, beyond forgiveness. Past the point of opting out. Don't want your foot out the door, I want your head on a stick, I want your fucking scalp. To see you hanging by your neck from your fucking red laces.
12.
Say No 02:45
I feel like I'm fuckin' dyin'. Twitching my way through time. A fucking product of bullshit and bad vibes. Pain is the only truth I'll ever need. The only warmth my body can keep. Tighten the rope. Say no to life. I feel like I'm fuckin' dyin'. I aint scared to die, but I aint tryin' to go where the mules don't kick and weeds don't grow. Send me deeper & deeper & deeper below. Lower & lower, the bottomless hole.
13.
D.R.E.A.M. 01:57
I will never remember. Always take a knee. Roll around in dirt, in the flag of this land. I will not serve to balance any scale. I aim to break it at both ends. Dragged here at the bottom with the rest of us. Forever unwelcome, by we the unwelcomed. I will not get right with Jesus, I am the only reason. Death rules everything around me. Just let me hang in peace.
14.
Fantasy 02:23
I offer you my pain and all my sins. My depression in my veins. If I'm hated, make it real & let it ride. Let me die for you or get me fucking killed. Put me in a hole, watch me writhe. I belong to you. Unholy matrimony. No elegance or Jesus between us. Don't step foot on my grave, unless to piss and fucking moan. There's a home for both of us in Hell to fuck and torture and burn. Heat fantasy, love was never an option. Pain legacy, all that I want. Ride with me forever, 'til the wheels fall off or tie me to the tracks and fucking run. You better run for your fucking life.

credits

released November 16, 2018

Produced by Funeral Chic & Rick Contes
Mixed by Rick Contes @ Seven Doors Audio
Mastered by Brad Boatright

Additional guitars on Rotten To The Core & Say No by Shane Kelley
Additional vocals on Baptized by Chris Colohan
Additional vocals on Red Laces by Mike Riley

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