Retching On The Dirt Songtext

I'm retching on the dirt, it's earthiness coating my throat.
I'm wincing on the bitterest pill.
I refuse to swallow.
I'm offered the warmth of a velvet glove, an iron fist to some.

I'm hounded by white - right might that wants the country pure.
I'm incensed by those in awe of "living amongst their own".

Selective perfection will cut their own throats!