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s​/​t

by Dearborn S.S.

/
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  • 7" Vinyl
    Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Found a few copies in storage. Last ones! Black vinyl. Includes lyric insert and translation booklet.

    Note: This is old stock recently recovered from the depths of time. While the records are in excellent, unplayed condition, they have sat in boxes for years and I would not consider them mint.

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1.
Feed me. Poison me. I was born, I was fed, I was taught to relish all their poisons. I was born, I was fed, I was taught to chew their cancer and swallow it, satiated. Feel sick all the time - legs hurt, no energy, tired, headache. Doctors say there’s nothing wrong. “Here, take these pills.” Years of careless choices coursing through my veins and no one to take the blame. “Here’s the check.” I cast away their suicide strategy and start to taste again. I was born, I was fed, I was taught to pay to harm myself. I was born, I was fed, I was taught to ignore the pain, no explanation needed. Feel hungry, what a nuisance. What’s quick, what’s cheap, what’s easy? Never mind the knot in my stomach - it goes away. The story unfolds but horror falls upon deaf ears. It’s time to hear.
2.
Americana 01:23
Your violent urge is felt and apparent when the slums that you condemn remain so full. This materialistic greed, that infected disease, makes your tiny world feel so fucking free. Bleed from the lies that make you safe, keeping the answers simple - sit back and behave. Others may drown in a sea of poverty, lost in a consciousness of your American dream. The faith lived by for so long is the same tune that keeps you in line. What are you selling? A brand new hope? Your freedom is nothing but a rope to choke. Religious fever, past traditions - total conditioning, complete ignorance. Limit the right, keep the faith - reduce equality, force your morality. Let them fall and fucking burn.
3.
I work, I survive - a third of my life wasted. Fifty hours a week to quiet the desperation and fear of staying stuck on the bottom rung. Distracted by trivialities - keep me busy so I don’t have the energy to question this plight. Prostitute/team player - what’s the difference? Take my soul. Che significa vivere, davvero (What does it really mean to live, anyway)? Survival taken away and sold back to me at the price of my life. Attendo il mio colpo di fortuna (I’m awaiting my stroke of good luck). I’m on my feet and I’m sick of the routine. Because I found a spark inside me saying, fuck you, I won’t anymore. Now I’m off to rediscover what it means to be alive. Don’t need your fucking pennies to validate my existence. Good-bye. Sono andata (I’ve left). I’m fucking gone.
4.
Distinguish instinct from conditioned reflexes. Distinguish between looks of ignorance or guilt. Are they the same? No, but still we put the effort aside. Realize that it runs so deep it can’t always remain hidden. Realize that words are masks that tend to be weak. Chip away the mold of my past mistakes. You and I have to refuse to accept what we’ve been told is good enough, it’s not. Show me the things you miss, the things I miss - the things I let slide. Where are we? Misled and trapped. We got here together - separated again. Sometimes we’re both blind. It’s not fair at all - it’s not fair to me. I’m trying so hard - where does that leave me? Fucking PC police - invalidate me. Fuck I know I have to - put down your ego and listen. Kill my reactions: interrupt, belittle condescend. Deprogram my thoughts: weak, slut, home-wrecking whore. Respect what you could never feel. Can’t polish the surface when the underside is so rotten I can smell the hypocrisy. Nothing has changed because I’m caught in the headlights of my false ideals, Keeping me rooted in the same place. I’m unaware of how we can both open our eyes and move.
5.
Sacrifices, what a waste. Scramble for substance, fall into rank. Worship the lies that are fed. Cancerous growth bred inside the language. Disinformation, entertainment or fabricated lies. Honor and obey the present condition. Sterile answers reported through concealed questions. Following the guide to trained thought. Media speculation resigning minds to execution. Fall asleep demand to be lifeless. Flashed TV image keeping us speechless. Dumb, worthless, remain peaceful, fully obedient. Always trusting, we will always comply. Lost in a stream of regurgitation. Never focused on ignorance of a nation. Defending products of historical alienation. Sterile answers reported through concealed fiction.
6.
Boundaries set in stone. Fences of construction planted. Walls stand neatly erected. Do everything we can - keep them in fucking place. Grasping the target campaign which aims through stolen lives of a free market reality. Grieving over 20¢ a day. Force fed on our culture - swallowing trends. Feast on the corporate logo - exploiting differences. Tied up, kept down, downsized - guaranteed to be itemized. Seen as nothing, work for nothing - they must become our standard. Close gaps - the people’s lands and histories uprooted. Maintain control - enslavement through systematic poverty. Hidden terror - while they drown on American demands.
7.
Thousands of gentrifying policies of hatred and lies have finally paid off with human lives. Created together, an economic dividing line. Fed on suicidal racial fear. Established state sanctioned murder. Human storage and modern labor slavery, Empoverished society - The fabric of criminal justice history. An endless cycle of imprisonment. Federal laws of political violence. A business incentive laced government. Billion dollar auction block silence. Shackle, subordinate, lock away until they die. Naked brutality upon the arrested. State officials profit on conviction. Political offices win on the sentenced. Death penalty justice eliminates unwanted. Shackle, subordinate, lock away until they die.

about

First Press (released with Lengua Armada Discos) - 1440 (300 on White, 1140 on Black), double-sided 7 x7 lyric sheet, tri-folded language translation insert. In addition there are 60 'Germany-only' copies entitled THE DEARBORNSS with all references to the SS removed and a different cover (screaming Priest with George Bush's eyes).

Council Records No. 15

credits

released June 1, 2000

Atkins - Vocals
Bae - Vocals
Kenney - Guitar
Rice - Drums
Song - Bass
Weeks - Guitar

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about

Dearborn S.S. Chicago, Illinois

Short-lived and long gone.

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