They died in glen and glade,
Their blood our future made.
Still here, can't bury it, still here.
We owe nothing to the past,
No debt no pound of flesh,
Still here, can't bury us, still here.
Yet you think that your forefather's wishes had planned for this,
Yet you cling to the hate that's been tempered by time.
You usurper, thieves of progress,
Sum of all that you claim fosters distress,
We'll push forward united in spite of your spite.
Fusing ’90s metalcore, ’00s vaporwave, and ’20s cybergrind, the Texans' debut showcases an unprecedented unholy trinity. Bandcamp New & Notable May 17, 2023