"No Groove In Gunsights" lyrics

Well, my bag of tricks is down just to a bag
A home for the filthy, the filthiest rich's rags
Fortitude for many, a humping hole for hags
No substitute nor substance left on the smelter's slag

I'm the scapegrace who scissors through by bus line
See no sympathy for obstacle, the stepped-on and deprived
Plug my ears and cover my eyes, but fingers leak the cries
Civilian bombardier, evil ones, either side

An idle domicile of steel, bombed to a tin
No privacy, no profit, no prophecy to win
To show what she's got inside, to show she's wearing thin
To offend fuck all, if she has fuck all to defend

No grooves in gunsights
Run through the dog bites
Jesus and Mary might

Her bag of tricks is down just to a bag
A home for the filthy, the filthiest rich's rags
Fortitude for many, a humping hole for hags
No substitute nor substance left on the smelter's slag

When baby cries, she's mother's little parasite
She bites off more than she can chew to secure her appetite
Mother's got a pocket full of unheard lullabies
There is no groove in her bombsite

My friends were denied fuel by decree
Gassed-up goons on the fumes, void all civility, each shouting
"It'll take a burden to break me, even on my bum knee"
If you can handle a little sting, it wouldn't hurt to believe me

A creed, this dying breed, huddled close in the corners
The framing of the fraud, the immortal mourner
Made to shirk the shit of battle, hearts of boron
A selfish, sinking ship with life rafts for the morons

No grooves in gunsights
Bullets pierce the sunrise
Cover your son's eyes