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The Removal

by PROBES

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1.
Removal 05:31
(This is my) Hate speech. That fat leach cockroach can choke on bleach. She lives a lie as her children cry but she don't care because she's so fried. Lay her to waste like a wasted life form. Cut her out like the cancer she is. Lay her to waste like a wasted life form. Be the knife that will save your children's lives. (Blood sucking) Succubus. She sucks you dry but you're still alive. You got one more try so make it wise and leave her behind. You've got a case so lay her to waste. Lay her to waste like a wasted life form. Cut her out like the cancer she is. Lay her to waste like a wasted life form. Be the knife that'll save your life. Always in a pool of her puss. Don't let your scalpel rust. Self-surgery to remove that growth. You've got to break the oath. You've got to be your own doctor now! Hideous beast under sheets holds you hostage. Steals your skeet. Makes your offspring poisoned, weak. Home school's for fools. Surgery to cut her out. Rusty scalpel kills the doubt. Once that first incision's made jam in the raid grenade. Lay her to waste like a wasted life form. Lay her to die like the cancer she is. Lay her to waste.
2.
AWOL 04:34
Weekdays are for suffering. All my friends are on heroin. Weekdays are for suffering. They told us to bomb a place full of children. Weekdays are for suffering. Kids hold our hands when we walk to town. Weekends are for buffering. They pay the prostitutes to suck us down. Those crosses I won't bare and the drill sergeant just stares. Going AWOL from this place tonight. Tonight. AWOL when they all sleep. I ran away from the government pay. AWOL when they all sleep. Every day away's a beautiful day. AWOL when they all sleep. I cut the tracker out from under my skin. Weekdays are for running. They try to catch me. They'll never find me. Those crosses I won't bare and the drill sergeant is scared. I went AWOL from that place last night. Last night. Fine morning, no bugle. I slept in till almost ten. Tomorrow I see a man who's got my new identity. No crosses or boss men. That sergeant boils over. Prized pupil escaped him with a new identity. Boss showed me the distance but I ran right past. Boss puppetry bullshit. That hand up your ass. Boss showed me the distance. Boss showed me the way. Boss showed me the distance to a new identity. Those crosses I won't bare and the drill sergeant just stares. Going AWOL from this place tonight. Tonight.
3.
Fake Money 05:07
I'm the counterfeiter spending money that I made. Scanner and a printer. Stacking twenties, over paid. First it went to strippers. Lap dances, crotch to face. I can almost taste success and I'll never get a job. Burn the money behind the church. Feeling like a fucking lurcher. Burn the evidence in the dumpster just like a fucking lurcher. Just like a lurch. Pocket full of fake bills. Hand em to the hands. Transaction's completion. Goods and services. Curvatures and afterwards, burgers. Drive thru number 4. "Sir this is a fake twenty." Pedal to the floor! Burn the money behind the church. Acting like a fucking lurcher. Burn the money behind the church, yeah! No evidence when they start the search. Secret service agent came knocking at my door. My dad got a lawyer and we went to the death star. I'm interrogated. Federal agent's black binder. They had 2 bills with the same serial number. I got off easy. Had to piss in a cup. Once a week, yeah. Dick watched by a federal cop.

about

Our third EP. Bass guitar, drums, vocals. Bleak as fuck.

credits

released November 21, 2022

All songs written by David Saylor, Matt Rinehart, Matt Lamoureaux. Recorded, mixed, and mastered by us. Cover art and photo by Matt Lamoureaux. ©2022 Probes. ©2022 Left/Right Records.

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PROBES Denver, Colorado

David - Drums
Matt - Bass
Matt - Vocals

Bleak as fuck.

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