Текст песни East Coast Funeral

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!