We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Self​-​Titled

by Hands of the Few

supported by
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.
    Purchasable with gift card

      name your price

     

1.
Gas Chamber 04:08
It's not shown on tv. Ya, for their lives they will plead. They all laugh out loud. It's mass murder as the troops kill their prey. Regulations and rules try to restrict you every fucking day. Now our problems are real, roll the dice spin the wheel, but in this jail there's no escape for you or for me. And the weight's on your chest. Keep fighting and trying as your will is put to the test. But what happens to the rest! If only lives weren't destroyed because money brings some the most joy. It's like a gas chamber that you can't avoid. And you can't avoid. On the streets every day most kindness is gone and there's hate. Crime escalates. The target's aimed for another human face. And so they launch off their bombs, killing off people who are in their way. It's not too safe alive as some people fight and strive to conquer and kill off our own fucking kind. Do you feel like our days are numbered as we plummet to the ground abruptly. Do you get a bad impluse? Wondering if your life is false. And who's at fault for all this foolishness? It gets harder and harder to say because it's us. It's us, it's us. Harder and harder to tell because it's us, harder and harder to say because it's us. When our own damn species destroys itself, we can't tell how long before we exterminate ourselves. Our gas chamber no
2.
Read a book or maybe two, GO! I'm so intent on this feeling, feel it? But it just urges you on. These wheels are getting rounder, faster, and now I'm gone. Count them up, you're fucking sleep deprived. One more round feeding self-destructive, self-bred lies. Now I'm nearly possessed again. Do you have a hand to lend? Too often nearly possessed. Do you have a hand to lend? Who's head is growing cold? More knowledge I should hold, yet the marker keeps the page and stays imbedded in the ink. And it's blizzard time, snowing through 'til morning shines. I'm just wasting my fucking time. No I'm not alright. Decay my brain. But these inhuman chems make the tissues strain. And it's blizzard time, snowing through 'til morning shines. No, I'm not alright. Let's just get it straight. Might have to clear the slate. Might have to stop being possessed.
3.
Accusations 02:50
The same cops in this small town, they know my name. Not because of guilt, because I'm fresh teenage prey. And when they don't know who's to blame they presume it's my debate. Ya the fingers they point lead my way as they accuse and get paid! I'm just a part of a stereotyped group, and I fucking hate it all just like you. They keep up their egos, hold up their badges. Ya they keep you away from the freedom you lack. Now I'm running down the street. I'm just a pawn in their sick game. But I'm only nothing. I'm just a crook. I'm just another day's work. But I know! Their heads swell up with power and authority the same. They'll pry and keep and eye on you, try to take your innocence away. We know they couldn't do what they do without a uniform of blue. So with no work left on their minds, they'll accuse the targeted youth. Your fucking accusations. Now I'm up for interrogation, no accusations. No more accusations I'm the next one on the list. Wearing studs, ya it's always a risk. I'm just a villain. I'm the bad guy, a fucking person to question with no reason why. I'm a favourite for unreasonable search. What a rewarding job of tough work. They intrude on your life, ya on unfair grounds. Maybe they should accuse themselves. They lie to your face! The problems arises once they judge you as a thief or a just a drug addict running around. Come on look at our faces. Then you'll see by the anger that this is the hate from Your fucking accusations. Now I'm up for interrogation, no accusations. No more accusations
4.
Rabid face, it's a drunken gaze. Tonight is an infection that I can't get enough of. You call me an omen. You fucking call it a sickness. There's no stopping this. One more shout and it breaks my mouth. My throat is done for, but I can't delay screaming more. So if punk repulses you then I'll puke blood on your shoes. This is the life I choose. This is the punk fucking form of life. Smashing bodies and screaming into the mic. If it's an illness to you then I'll puke on you too, and it'll never end. I'll stay sick with the plague, plagued and diseased until I die. There's no appreciation for the music that's made. Some see it worthless, they've got no clue, just some labelling. If there's one cold to catch, it's the virus I own. Some looks so petrified, can't even look us in the eyes. But we won't change our visions or ideas not for anyone. You call it a fever, you fucking call it a syndrome. The fucking punk disease. Climb up. Climb up and up. Climb up, but don't let the bonds decay. This is the punk fucking form of life. Smashing bodies and screaming into the mic. If it's an illness to you then I'll puke on you too. We'll stick it out, and it'll never end. I'll stay sick with the plague, plagued and diseased until I die
5.
Dirty Morals 03:53
Mommy, mommy is gone to work. Daddy will stay home where his abusive hands can lurk. Mommy, what mommy doesn't know. Her children being left alone with dirty hands that roam. Dirty hands that roam! Every single fucking day you're ruining their lives. You live with dirty morals! You're a 40-year-old creep and you can't wear a disguise. You're harming little bodies and you don't even care. You live with dirty morals! Respect a person's dignity and not your sick affairs. Not happy, they aren't happy in their home. A father who molests his kids, leaves them feeling alone. It's alright, no need to run away. No need to tell your mother, this is just how daddy plays. Just how daddy plays! And every single fucking day you're ruining their lives. You live with dirty morals! You're a 40-year-old creep and you can't wear a disguise. You're harming little bodies and you don't even care. You live with dirty morals! Respect a person's dignity and not your sick affairs. You don't molest kids. Oi! Oi! You live with dirty morals! Fuck you, you don't molest kids
6.
This fucking world of blood and corruption. We're solving conflicts with mass destruction. You don't care about the lives that are at stake. This is out world of blood, greed, and hate. I'd rather not see. I'd rather just be blind than watch the news it's just a waste of my time. Because nothing will be solved or ever fucking fine when we send troops to kill each other on the frontline. Blood and corruption. This is our world, this is our world This is our world of blood, greed, and hate I've had it up, up to fucking here. Living in a world that's based on fear. And it's already almost going to be too late to end all this madness. Why the fuck do we wait? Dollar bills are the cash to destroy us. Ya our blood they spill with the lies that stab us. The red we shed for the lives of the rich scum. A corruptive system that runs without freedom Blood and corruption. This is our world, this is our world This is our world of blood, greed, and hate
7.
I turn the water in my tap to wine. Do you want a sip? I'm my own messiah, there's no one to save me. And there's no need for you to kneel in the pew. Man, you sit on my couch! We'll praise no son of Bethlehem, just share religious doubts. Won't join a heard, I'm not a sheep in a crowd. And he's not my shepherd. Call me insane, but half of our daily bloodbaths are religious based. I see a new, a new horrid catastrophe. It happens everyday. Call me insane, but where's this Christ you speak of? Where's your Christ? There's a spin to the clouds and I hear Jesus start to shout. "Why have you abandoned me my son?" Well, blindfold the masses priest, put your hands on the young. It's a sore on my foot, a fucking underlining scum. Cough up, empty your pockets to the church, today to feed A new, a new horrid catastrophe. It happens everyday. Call me insane, but where's this Christ you speak of? Where's your Christ? I'll hold no faith, not an ounce. I'll be my own messiah. I'll wear my own fucking crown
8.
Pop! 02:47
Hey record label. Can you help me please. Ya I want to be mainstream, for the world to see. Hey pop producers, just give me a million bucks. Now write my songs for me and bring ratings up. I'm a multi-million dollar media whore. Reel in the bills and just strip some more. But you idolize them and live a life of plastic! Follow the hot pop star you know you'll be in for sure You might as well take out your brain right now I'm into lip-synch and fashion trends. Wear my clothing line, it'll help you blend. The media deception! Like a bowel disruption! I'm a multi-million dollar fucking media trend. Turn 12-year-olds into sluts is the message I send And it's the same songs in your face. Your idols on the screen, well they're all the same to me. They're money-bathers who cheat the world through fame, so insignificant. Can't you see? Oh plastic! Follow the hot pop star and you know you'll be in for sure You might as well take out your brain right now Plastic and profit! And if you're lucky you'll hear the newest song, ya you'll hear it first. You might as well spill out your brains right now Kill them dead oh let's kill them dead. They're pop magazines stapled to severed heads.
9.
Breathe out smoke on a starry night. Light up a spliff and then turn out the light. Sitting in the back in the seat of a car. Sipping on booze, we won't get too far. Search for answers and try to get away. I've had this girl on my mind all day. Now I poison my brain as I stare into space. Be sure to wake up with a bloody face. They're all blurred out in distorted ways. Maybe I'll take a walk home tonight or crash at whoever's place seems alright. So come on pass over a brew, there's still room for one more. One last swig and I'm face down on the floor. Wake up in the morning and feel like something's not right. I don't remember and shit from last night. So I'll dawn on what's wrong and what I can mend. Until I destroy myself again next weekend. They're all blurred out in distorted ways. Crack the seal. Come on now open up your mouth. Now how does it feel? And I know that I can't move at all because the buzz is too intense, and I can't make sense. So now I find myself lost in my head. Oh fuck these mush have taken control. I'm not coming back, no I'm not turning back. No there's no turning back, no fuck no. I've left all my worries for freeing my mind. Now I drink up my booze in time. I'll ruin my stomach to please my brain. The joys of the night will over-power any pain. Here's a cheers for getting right fucked up. If this is a dream, then don't wake me up. This is a song for those who've been there, now sing this chorus if you don't fucking care. They're all blurred out in distorted ways. It's a drunken haze as I look at her face. They're all blurred out in distorted ways. It's a drunken haze!
10.
Viewing the outside world for all the vile, now it's my own world that's viewed from a different seat. It's not tiresome to say that it's much more intense from right up close, from the front row. Sit back and relax, kick up your feet. And then you're struck with news of local horrors. I don't know about you but when it grabs me, it grabs me hard. In a perfect world someone close to you doesn't just go and off themself. Don't cut it short. One more new morning and it's a scarlet newspaper today. Now I'm getting volatile, there's no way to decide on how to avoid it. But you can try to avoid it until it scrapes at your heels. Can't let this grime rain, rain down on our heads. No, not my head. Won't catch the early flight! There's a spill on the ground and soon a body if found. Well knife meets neck not 20 minutes from my home, this problem now overgrown. This problem now overgrown! But it's a problem you face alone! Because life is life, ya each neighbourhood is in for fright. This problem now overgrown! It's far just too close to us. It's got me just so struck. Struck with news of local horrors, community tortures.

about

This is the debut full-length from Ottawa/Toronto, Ontario melodic/thrash/punk band Hands of the Few.

credits

released June 4, 2009

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Hands of the Few Toronto, Ontario

Hands Of The Few, based out of Ontario, Canada, is a band with a drive to constantly produce something new yet familiar. Music that is energetically trashy and raw, yet at the same time is strikingly melodic and technical. The band strives with various musical influences that have caught the attention of all members. ... more

contact / help

Contact Hands of the Few

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like Hands of the Few, you may also like: