Death to Our Enemies

by For the Kid in the Back

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about

These songs are for anyone who has experienced assault. These songs are for anyone who has experienced abuse. These songs are for anyone who has loved anyone who has experienced assault or abuse. These songs are for anyone who has been betrayed by someone they love. These songs are for anyone who has ever felt victimized. These songs are for anyone who is afraid to walk around alone. These songs are for anyone who is afraid to trust. These songs are for anyone who has come home with bruises. These songs are for anyone who has left home with bruises. These songs are for the kind of bruises that don't show. These songs are for anyone who is afraid to speak of what happens behind closed doors. These songs are for anyone who has been let down by their campus, their peers, their community, their police. These songs are for anyone who has felt objectified or less than human. These songs are for anyone who has felt exploited. These songs are for anyone who can't be themselves. These songs are for anyone who has been themselves and paid for it. These songs are for anyone who has stayed quiet. These songs are for anyone who cannot stay quiet any longer. These songs are for the survivors, the dead and those who live on in death. These songs are for anyone who has had their power taken away from them. These songs are for anyone who wishes to take that power back.

A portion of the proceeds from each copy sold will be donated to Hollaback Plattsburgh to help fund educational resources, events and advertising.

credits

released 08 August 2014

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Matt Hall in the Winter of 2014.
All songs written and performed by Justin Passino.

Electric guitar/noise on Tiny Little Stones performed by Matt Hall.

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about

For the Kid in the Back Plattsburgh

For the Kid in the Back is the DIY effort of Justin Passino, a singer/songwriter from Upstate, NY.

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Track Name: Death to Our Enemies
I stood outside of the door.
I was too scared to scream.
Too scared to do anything.
In that moment of fear,
I just sat on the stairs
and begged for the earth to open up and swallow me.

The bruises on your arms were the color of lilac.
They looked like abstract tapestries.
I wasn't aware of my power then to scream,
to put an end to anything.

You walk to your car.
Keys clenched in your hand,
you walk as fast as you can.
There are monsters in the streets
and they're baring their teeth.

And nobody believes you
when you repeat those things they say.
And boys will be boys
until these boys are conditioned into violent, deadly machines.

They'll try to take what they want,
be it your undeserved attention or teeth spread out on the pavement.
They are afraid of what they can't take away,
your right to be what you are without their permission.

The bruises on my arms were the color of lilac.
They looked like abstract tapestries.
But I am aware of my power now to scream, to change everything
to bring death to our enemies.

Death to our enemies.
Track Name: Cold Wind
You are a cold, cold wind.
One minute you're here, the next you're gone.
You are a cold, cold wind.
The kind that makes me regret putting shorts on.
You are a cold, cold wind.
Climbing through my bedroom window.
A cold, cold wind.
I watched you give flight to a sparrow.

Sometimes I feel you touching my hair and my eyes shut.
Fall asleep on the couch with the phone in my hand.
Miss a half-dozen phone calls but when I check my messages
not a one of them is from you or any of our friends.
I still speak of our moments in a language of wonder.
I am deconstructing these songs in my head.
I wish I could kill every standard they assign to your gender.
I wish I could find a way to make you whole again.

You are a cold, cold wind.
The kind that keeps me inside on the weekends.
A cold, cold wind.
Coming in real slow off the ocean.
A cold, cold wind.
You signify the change in the seasons.
A cold, cold wind.
Track Name: Tiny Little Stones
I could find a place for me without you in it.
I could find my peace-of-mind and forget you every existed.
But first I have a plan
to build a monument of matches in the likeness of a man who
looks like you.
And will burn just like you.

Tiny little stones
imprint indentations
on your skin.
I can feel you on my skin.

Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.
Don't touch me.
You have no right to touch me.