While I don’t got much in the way of brains, I do have a bad temper. Just the other day in the produce aisle, I beat the shit out of this bunch of asparagus that was talkin’ shit about me and some turnips. I said, "I’ll show you who’s green mothafucka." And we brawled and I clipped that dickhead-lookin’ veggie’s head right off.
Let me tell ya, nothing’s better in that situation than a good dose of BLACK CROSS, especially with hate songs like "Screaming From The Top Of The Stairs" with its catchy chorus: "I see you in myself, I want to tear it out."
I learned a great life lesson as a young sprout growing up in a Mexican field full of human dung: When in doubt, keep it simple. That’s what this band, formerly the BLACK WIDOWS, does, although they are not as powerful and fiery a band as RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE. They know if they repeat shit enough, it’ll stick, and that philosophy works well when you’re audience is mad enough to shove a potato up someone’s sphincter. Like they say, a good offense is one that prevents you from walking again.
In "Plank Walker" and other tracks, they perfectly sum up my feelings about the awful assholes and fat housewife bitches who think I’m "good for them." To quote some random lines from their head-bashing, aggressive, fuck-society frustration odes: "Don’t you walk with me," "I’ll knock you out of bed," "We are all broken pieces," "The life we live is rape." It’s like these four guys from Kentucky decided to write the soundtrack to a life spent backhanding mouthy point-countin’ Weight Watcher whores and gutless fruits.
So I have a message for the mindless shoppers who eye me as if they’d rather puke on a baby, but end up putting me in their cart anyway: Go buy some french fries and leave me the fuck alone.
