East Coast Funeral Lyrics & Chords By The Frisk

My Mother's silence
My Brother's violence
Stranger in a casket we called family
Hell would be too kind of a resting place
My Mother's silence
My Brother's violence
Stranger in a casket we called family
I still can't stand the sight of your fucking face
For you, for me, for us, that's why I do the things I do
For you, for me, for us, don't like my best? Fuck you!