Always Be Punching Racists

from by PUNCHER

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lyrics

All you bastard bigots better not be
Bringing that bullshit anywhere near me.
Your face, my fist.
Any night of the week, punching racists.
No compromise, no closing my eyes,
No cold shoulder, nowhere to run and hide.
Knock out! Knock out!

Clear hearts, full minds, cannot lose.
Your brain clearly underused.
I won't accept the excuse.
Nobody else to blame, this is all on you.

In your own racist joke you're the punchline,
And I'll be the first one to laugh
When you're alone and you die.

You hide your shameful face inside a white cotton hood,
That won't stop you from getting all the stompin's you should.
Your head, my foot.
Any night of the week, stompin' it good.
The bottom of my boot leaves footprint stains
Down the street, laughing and I'm walking away.
Knock out! Knock out!

Small towns, small minds, and small fine lines
Between big towns and hatred crimes.
Each one points at the other side
For all the things that they've been thinking all the time.

In your own racist joke you're the punchline,
And I'll be the first one to laugh
When you're alone and you die.

Yeah and I know all the stories.
They're typical and boring.
You all say it's not your fault,
That you grew up this way.
But in your nature versus nurture debate,
Do you ever contemplate your ability to reason?
To use your own head for something?
Or are you too busy pumping your chest?
Adrenaline and ignorance.

Knock down! Drag out!

credits

from Send Em To The Cemetery, released January 1, 2014

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about

PUNCHER Eau Claire, Wisconsin

Some guys wanted to play fast, heavy music.
They made a band called Puncher.

Eric Rykal | Guitar
Dave Power | Drums
Andy Plank | Vocals
Scotty Hayden | Bass

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