Butcher Babies (Heavy Metal)

butcher-babies-tour-111

 

The name, the name, the name just offends the hell out of my conditioned morality, but could the name be an indictment against the government of my beloved nation?  The music, the music, the music just mellows the hell out of me. Literally. I love this shit. Labels be damned. I read on the internet that Carl Jung said that screaming could never be musical. On many things that Mr. Jung reported, I have little to quarrel with.  On screaming being musical, I offer Butcher Babies as to my side of the disagreement. To be fair to Mr. Jung, he never got to listen to Butcher Babies.

I also read on the internet that Heavy Metal actually soothes and relaxes the listener according to scientific experiments. I love science like I love Democracy and Religion when it supports my preconceived ideas and feelings of my perspective. It is often said that the truth will make one cry, but rarely is it said that it will make you laugh and when truth pasts wailing into laughter than truth has made its aim.

Listen to the Music.

 

And yes, I adore cleavage.

 

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Smiling Dead

Where opinion rules
The sharpest chisel wins
The blood of truth drains
The spirit into the Devil’s
lake of confusion

Facts become idols
to a shivering junkie
seeking that true warm
fact filled needle.

He wanders the streets
seeking his fix
with plenty of money
and pushers to oblige

He hits Main Street
All the usual suspects there
pushing bad dope that
leaves him cold and clammy

He hits Wall Street
It’s the best looking dope
He has seen in weeks
When he cooks it
It disintegrates.

He hits the hood
The dope left him desperate,
depressed and hopeless
with no withdrawals.

He hits the suburbs
The dope felt great
but blinded him and
made him deaf

He hit the park
Lying naked, bruised and
violated he was later found
with a needle dangling from his arm.

Smiling Dead.