We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.


by Underdog Upperhand

** Content Warning ** - This song uses inflammatory language in order to call out racism, bigotry, and hatred through the use of satire. “Fuck ‘em all ‘cause their skin is darker and I can’t be bothered to check my place of privilege. It’s not my fault they’re barely living in that dirty, third-world ghetto down the street. If they’d stop killing each other, maybe they could earn my respect.” “Not in my house. No son of mine will fuck another boy. It’s not the way that God and nature wanted it to be. And don’t get me started on that fantasy, ‘You can’t choose the ones you love.’ You’re choosing to sin over your own family.” Standing on the piles of all the “insignificant existence” in your wake, what do you expect to find? From atop the war machine, has our nation of the fallen free become your paradise? How long ‘til we can see that our nation of the fallen free has become their paradise?
Clenching tight. Anxiety has become my closest apostle, betraying who I am. And I'm just stuck spinning around this fucking drain. Over and over ‘cause it's all been said and done. When the cold grip of death sets in, will I still be a failure then? I’m trying to just do right by me, but sometimes I feel like a fucking failure. Is enough ever going to be enough? And when can I stop fighting to meet some bullshit fucking quota? The illusion of success is dragging me under. Maybe it's not so real, after all; this apparition that keeps tearing me apart. But if it's just a figment that’s only in my mind, then how can its claws keep digging deeper and deeper in? There's no release.
25-6 02:40
Where did we go wrong? How did we let it come to this? These sexist fucking good ol’ boys are about to put them underground and we’re all just staring in awe. It’s the systematic downfall of our morality. So when the wolves bear their teeth, you gotta know your enemy. How can we just stand by and let these fucking vultures dig their talons deeper into the wombs of the world? They’re failing to understand what it means to sever post from principle and now autonomy is on the firing line.
Abandoner 02:30
As the situation stands, it looks like this ship may be past saving. But not for lack of trying on your part. You need to hear that. I want you to know that if you’re ready, you can just let it go. I need you to know, you’re not the abandoner. Bucket after bucket, you’ve been dumping water just to keep your head above the tide. But it’s no use if you’re going to keep your raft tied to the wreckage. Just let it go.
Well I just turned thirty-one and what’ve I got to show for it? Another year spent wasting away inside a fucking box as life passes by. I used to think that I could find satisfaction on the beaten path; my lazy tendencies disguised as waiting on intervention from on high. I’ve wandered through life waiting on meaning, as if it’s gonna fall in my lap. Tired of wasting my time. Sick of talking, not walking. An aimless arrow. Now free from the string and I know my direction. Wind through my hair, I’m alive. 'Til death or be damned, I’ll be soaring in cobalt. An aimless arrow, no more.
Flint’s still sucking down a toxic milkshake, but Our Lady burns, so now we stand up. Black churches burning and the hill is silent, but Our Lady burns, so now they speak up. How long 'til we see there’s more important things going on around us.
White Death 03:16
You wanna burn the history books, so you can overlook the past. A hundred million in our wake; enough to make The Nation last. And now you claim it for your own, like this land wasn’t taken forcefully. Genocide after genocide, their bodies line the base of Old Glory. Free from the shackles of guilt and greed, it's easy to disassociate from their horrible creed. And with your stake in the ground, you'll protect what's "yours." But after the horrors we put them through, painting our stripes with their blood on our hands, the very least we can do is acknowledge that we’re sleeping in stolen beds. When you're free from the shackles of guilt and greed, it's easy to turn a blind-eye to our murderous breed. And with your boot on their necks, you'll protect what's "yours."
So you disowned her when she let down her guard, confirming her every fear and doubt. You put her in her place and made her see how worthless to you she was; that you’ll never accept what your baby boy has become. But maybe that’s for the better. Yeah, maybe. I don’t know if I could ever understand why it’s so hard for you to see that all they really want is for you to stop treating them like they’re not human. Still you disown her, your own flesh and blood. Unwilling to listen or sympathize. It’s amazing to imagine how you could ever live with yourself while you're twisting the dagger you left in her heart. And was it all for the better? Yeah, maybe. Your fucking hollow chest has made you into a heartless fuck. You're not human.
Once beautiful and spacious skies turning black over waves of grain. And the people marching down below are as polluted as the falling rain. My country, ‘tis of thee; A broken land of “liberty.” I don’t think we deserve to be saved. If we just sit by, disgusted, but not distracted, can we really say we’re learning from our past? Alabaster cities gleam, unfazed by the tears of the wretched refuse, while we the people outside their bars argue which descriptive adjectives to use.
Do you really think we’re that naive; that we wouldn’t see what you’re hiding just behind the mask you pulled over your eyes? If you can’t see them, they don’t exist; just like all their fucking “problems.” One day, you’re gonna have to face them all; when your lies, they all, decay and they fade away. And I would like to say you’re gonna make it through the flood. But I can’t mean it, so I won’t. You’re a fucking charlatan selling blatant disregard and spitting on the faces of the populace you claim to care about. Sitting on your throne, pushing people to and fro. One day, your shove will break the camel's back and we'll tear your walls away. They’ll break away. So, say it like you mean it.
Politics ain't the problem. I think you're losing sight and blaming the way you act on where you stand on the party line. With venom coursing deep inside, you act as if your hands are tied; like you're only the messenger. It doesn’t matter if it’s left or right, or who brought it to the floor, 'cause there ain’t no legislation telling you, "you gotta start a war." So while you’re gearing up to drop your bombs on your fellow citizens, just remember, my friend, that it ain't Washington's fault. No legislation. Will you ever disconnect from the narrative they're feeding you to see the injustice at your feet? Referring to everyone by degrading names. Like a pawn in someone else's game, you're acting like a choice was never there. Just remember, my friend, that Washington ain't forcing your hand.


** Content Warning -This song uses inflammatory language in order to call out racism, bigotry, and hatred through the use of satire.

Special Thanks to: Jimmy McClanahan, Kevin Zeiger, Jake Joyce, Connor McNerney, Dan Massey, Abner Machorro, Vince Ippolito, Steve Luther, Cassandra Schneider, and anyone else who was involved in any small way. If I've failed to get it across in the past, I appreciate you and your support.


released October 2, 2020

All music and lyrics written and performed by Underdog Upperhand, except where noted.
Additional Vocals by Kevin Zeiger, Jimmy McClanahan, Connor McNerney, and Vince Ippolito
Recorded in the Spring/Summer of 2020
Mastered by Collin Jordan at The Boiler Room




Brown Bear Records Palatine, Illinois

All things Brown Bear for all our friends!

contact / help

Contact Brown Bear Records

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this album or account

Brown Bear Records recommends:

If you like Confrontational, you may also like: