Death Made Its Offer

by October Bird of Death

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“…then I began writing. It was about a German aviator in World War I. Baron Von Himmlen. He flew a red Fokker. And he was not popular with his fellow fliers. He didn't talk to them. He drank alone and he flew alone. He didn't bother with women, although they all loved him. He was above that. He was too busy… His red Fokker, which he referred to as the "October Bird of Death," was known everywhere. Even the enemy ground troops knew him as he often flew low over them, taking their gunfire and laughing, dropping bottles of champagne to them suspended from little parachutes… He was an ugly man with scars on his face, but he was beautiful if you looked long enough -- it was in the eyes, his style, his courage, his fierce aloneness.”

from Ham on Rye, a novel by Charles Bukowski


released March 13, 2017

Recorded and mixed by Bryan Gray at Library Studios Chicago
Mastered by Sef Idle at Simpul Studio
Artwork by Eugen Poe at Dead Inside Graphics
Released by Zap Records




October Bird of Death Chicago, Illinois

October Bird of Death is a Chicago punk band.

Wiley Murder Willis - Vocals
Sid Duffour - Guitar
Darren Davick - Guitar
Kurt Lynett - Bass
Zach Bridier - Drums

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Track Name: This is Our Lives
This is Our Lives

Take it from here
Lets return to the beginning
Where do we stand
Now where do we die...
Take it from here
Lets return to the beginning...
Not now... Not this time!
Tear me apart
I'll mend my remains
I'll be alright
I'm taking back my claim

With our voices we shall yell!
With our fists we fight to hell!
The light is growing oh so dim
but this is our lives
Track Name: Goons
we get labeled the bottom of the barrel
we get labeled the gutter and grime
we get labeled the dirty street rats
we're proud to be the working class

Goons, Hooligans, Stompers, and Thugs
my war is not of this world
guard your mind with diligence
my wars eternal...

Rat King Trap we're stuck together!
King Rat Trap were bound forever!

... and now we pick our fleas
to the sewers now we flee
the underground screams...

(Kyle Bawinkel - Guest Vocal)
you can't stomp on this back of mine
no room in the scene to divide
no tolerance for bone head thugs
Southside Chicago, its where I'm from!
Track Name: Uproar
oh my failures be consistent and fail me now...
you traitors, mighty traitors
weigh my name out in gold
hold that head up high as you carve my name into your flesh
for ten scars make this man
to complete my aesthetic

right now this is an uproar!
only flies are gonna win this war
right now this is an uproar!
forget we asked, we asked at all
right now this is an uproar!
flys feast on the eyes of the poor
right now...

call it quits my spit shine sisters and my blood bound brothers
for this is the year of the rat... now falls only to us
yet we are too far into the depths this time...
...we might now make it out alive