Hate Paste Lyrics - Icky Mettle - Archers Of Loaf

Bit my lip 

And it's the same thing. 

Now I'm reduced to a pulp. 

Your undisturbed and decorated 

Decorations lie. 

You're hounded by pulse 

Stabbed by spit 

And your brain fits 

Despite your ears. 

Another one has run in. 

Rottin and gossiped, 

You're all used up 

With a burst up shell. (? ) 

Why're you gonna try it 

If you know you don't like it 

How're you gonna give it up 

If you ain't got it. 

Why're you gonna use it 

If you think that it's broke. 

Why're you gonna swell the show (? ) 

The things that you're breaking down, down, down. 

Down cold thresh flesh paste 

Deliver hate paste. 

Voices sick and swelling 

You say you don't like it. 

You say you don't like it. 

But you just don't get it 

You just don't get it. 

You're hounded by pulse, 

Stabbed by spit 

And your brain shits 

To clog your ears. 

A casual mark 

Made by a bird. 

What you lost 

With your fair hands. 

Why're you gonna try it 

If you know you don't like it. 

How're you gonna give it up 

If you ain't got it. 

Why're you gonna use it 

If you think that it's broke 

Why're you gonna swell the show 

The things that you're breaking down, down, down