Youngblood Brass Band
Nuclear Summer
[Intro]
From the left shoulder of a nation
From skies lacking the mechanisms of death
From the burdened bellies of wrought iron angels we come, we drop, we're bombs
And we're in. Hordes of us, scraping over the walls

[Verse 1]
There is no darkness so deep that we cannot paint it present
There is no cause so bleak that we will bail in vain
We are the brain's army, dispatched in vein and we c-c-course
Dead eyes run through. Ink and pigment splattered on barren ground
Swords aloft!
Screaming battle cries in all tongues lost
The old blood boiling over timeless ideals
We are staining every soul present enough to look up; Go home
Scarred and tattoo the sound all over your body, for these
Sun-dipped blades herald brighter spirits coming
And that gray lump you call a head is sliced clean off

[Bridge]
Once a benevolent president tears open your cheek, a tongue will come flopping out
It will lay on the ground licking slush off our frozen streets
Then it will die. Your love curdled already besides
I'll kiss your hand, but you won't see the smirk beneath my lowered eyes
Nothing can get wise
All of my children are carrying knives

[Hook]
More pressure. More fire. More peace. More vibe
More people. More freedom. More heat. More live
More voice. More feet. More song. More rise
More echo. More cloud. More test. More sky
No quarter! No vote! No power! No vice!
No king! No vision! No womb! No right!
More signal! More move! More center! More light!
More pressure! More fire! More peace! More vibe!
More!

[Verse 2]
How 'bout a little warhead in your abdomen? Ooh, how 'bout a stain?
How about armada is to javelin what battle is to game? Oh!
Inverted world I'm thinking Nobel Prize
Because the marriage of preemption and commerce? That was mine
I prefer a phallus to a circle every time
I prefer to make a beat that wipes a village from the map
I prefer a falling payload when it's dancing on your lap
Are you perverts having fun yet?
It all comes out grey and matters less with each sunset

Here come a bomb. The sound above language
The sound off-kilter with casualties pending
The patented death. The action-packed ending
It's not sarcasm. We're training eyes
Hands were we can see them. Ass in the sky
Asinine lies for assassins in need
Of motives for making that human ink bleed
Champions, fly

[Bridge]
Calling all living. Affirming all dreams
Screaming all hell. As real as it seems
Rescind your explosions. Get up off toes
Kids are at attention tended towards prose
Smolder at shows, shoulder all comers
Dirty old bushmen your season is waning
Sorry about peace, big fucking bummer
Ignite a new kind of soul fusing father and mother
Here come the heat. Nuclear Summer

[Hook]
More pressure. More fire. More peace. More vibe
More people. More freedom. More heat. More live
More voice. More feet. More song. More rise
More echo. More cloud. More test. More sky
No quarter! No vote! No power! No vice!
No king! No vision! No womb! No right!
More signal! More move! More center! More light!
More pressure! More fire! More peace! More vibe!
More pressure! More fire! More peace! More vibe!
More! More! More! More!
More! More! More! More!
More! More! More!