.​.​.​To The Bars

from by Sterile Jets

/
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lyrics

Like a dried worm in the sun
The madman loads his gun
In the middle of the deep freeze
We have lost all our dreams
Hope and salvation for the corpse
Have derived from the source
Religion is a question to me
Pungent cause of disease
I have known this quite for a while
Heaven has gone out of style

Go... To the bars!

Got myself in trouble again
With the help of black ink pen
Torture is built into us all
Nailed to a chalk-lined wall
Is the power the pain that I see
Is power what makes us free?
Blinds shut out the naked eye
Apathy will make us try
I guess it's shooting time again
I guess it's shooting time again

credits

from Liquor Store, track released September 23, 2014

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about

Sterile Jets Long Beach, California

Long Beach California's Sterile Jets are intent on confronting the tortured dynamic of modern America with unflinching honesty and an exceptional mash up of rhythm, noise and melody. They draw on elements that include post rock, stoner punk, art punk and old school heavy metal and add a dollop of lyrical inspiration from Beat writers like William S. Burroughs and LA's own Charles Bukowski. ... more

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