Demo 2016

by Skin Prison

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haemorrhagerecords dot bigcartel dot com

This recording was made at Monster Mouse in Marrickville, Sydney between March - April 2016. Recorded and mixed by Jerry Kahale.


released April 5, 2016

On this recording, Skin Prison is Allison Gallagher, Jerry Kahale and Luke Pooley. Artwork by Lizzie Nagy.



all rights reserved


Skin Prison Sydney, Australia

Allison (mouth)
Jerry (guitar)
Leon (bass)
Luke (drums)

Political blackened punk from Sydney, Australia.

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Track Name: Control
you're so controlled by the things you've been taught,
and that noose 'round your neck is the one you've been bought.
hate every face that looks different to yours,
so proud your tax dollars are funding a war.

i struggle to sympathise with willful ignorance,
on your knees in the name of subservience.

just another fucking bigot with nothing but pride
for a nation built of nothing but lies.
just another fucking bigot
who won't be missed.

must be so hard seeing your worldview being left behind,
so i guess you've got a tough, tough choice to make;
evolve, learn to grow,
or lay down in the fucking dirt.
Track Name: Shallow Graves
we're just trying to survive,
and you're kicking us into shallow graves.
how many of us have to die before you give a fuck?
so sick of ritual excusing violence.
we should know better by now.

our bodies don't belong to you.
our lives aren't yours to consume.

we don't owe you shit.
Track Name: We See
i don't need you to speak for me
about something you'll never experience.
won't give you a pat on the back
for shouting the loudest.
you talk about our voices,
when was the last time you listened to any of us?
we see through you,
it's so fucking obvious.

we see through you.

congratulate yourself for doing the bare minimum.
always happy to talk, never willing to listen.
you talk about solidarity but i've never felt more alone,
we see right through you. it's so fucking obvious.

we see through you.
Track Name: Ruins
we're baring our teeth against a world
built to rip the flesh from our bones.
i see myself in smashed windows,
cracks in the pavement and broken homes.
it all must look so much more beautiful
when you're staring down from a pedestal.

burn this place to the ground.
let the walls cave in, let the sutures collapse.
burn this place to the ground.
let it lay in ruins, then we can start again.

they say the sun's getting brighter,
we know it isn't.
not while straight white men behind closed doors
make self-serving decisions.
no hope, and no future at the end of a rope,
but i'd rather die on my feet
than live with your hands wrapped around my throat.

can we start again?