The End (E​.​P​.​)


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    Mastered at 45RPM for better fidelity, and because we thought it would be fun to fit 9 songs on a 45. Pressing limited to 300 copies, hand-numbered, on luck-of-the-draw colored vinyl.

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I'm sick and tired of my lousy luck No matter what I do, I can't turn a buck It's been a long time since I had a dime And handing my pay to my mechanic sucks Chains of debt wrapped around my neck I'll never see any black on the right Scrimp and save, work and slave Makes no difference--always turns up shite Whatever I buy is a losing bet And whatever I try just puts me deeper in debt I make a point every day to look up and pray But none of those prayers has been answered yet
For seven long years the bullies picked on the man Made much of him filling in a hole on his land Time and again took him to court to beat him down Big-time egos in a small-time town For as many years, he fought them on their terms Until they pushed him past the point of no return Another trumped-up charge to harrass him again On that summer day Carl Drega turned the tables on them He shot the first cop seven times He shot the second as he ran He stole their cruiser, then he went to see the judge Who had screwed with him since all this began She ran from him and he shot her in the back He warned an unarmed hero, then he shot him too As three of his tormentors bled and died Drega drove the cruiser to his last stand They made such an issue over dirt and a shack They pushed until he finally pushed back They wouldn't leave him alone and now they're dead Carl Drega still lives on in my head
It's time to face up to the facts And time to get it through your head The Fathers wanted all of us to have guns Preserving freedom with the threat of lead Don't trust the government--our Fathers didn't If you think more police make you safer, you're wrong The Constitution exists to keep our servants on course (If) they get too out of line, we (can) fix the problem by force Don't buy its lies; this system seeks to enslave you Open your eyes and you'll see that it's true An armed population's the last line of defense Wherever you look, things are getting intense (For the unvarnished truth about the racist origins of gun control laws, and how gun control laws enabled the largest genocides of the 20th century, go to
Faceless zealots on a thought crusade Wild presumptions have been made Demagogues, not dialogs--I was warned before I tried Your bilge amounts to nothing, along with your lies The roles today aren't the same But the methods employed haven't changed All the witch hunts you've joined; all the crosses you've built-- All to absolve you of your forefathers' guilt? Blind guides Mouths open wide Pointing, screaming, beating chests; posturing and gloating Self-loathing Becomes a contest Invalid, irrelevant, insipid, inane Making your "points" like monkeys with damaged brains I never checked back to hear any more of you whine Improvident idiots, a total waste of my time
Race to the bottom Under color of law Purveyors of treason spreading like a disease Controlled opposition Disinfo, distractions And most of our servants throwing oaths to the breeze How much longer do we grin and bear Through constant lawlessness we don't want to abide? Power proceeds from consent of the governed, But now they want to control every facet of life When do we throw it off? Our once-great system now corrupt to the core Despotic designs close in from every side Our countrymen in slumber, tricked by lies of snakes-- How much more are we supposed to take?
We're just another damage case, a write-off left to salvage But we're picking up the pieces while trudging through your garbage You rolled the dice, got in too deep Then papered it over and fleeced the sheep Your cronies in Washington got you ahead Now the rest of us scramble for a few scraps of bread Mortgage the future on a false bill of hope If the system won't stop you, there's always the rope You know the crosses Crosses we bear You know the crosses we bear (We were honored that Seth's mom lent her voice to the gang vocal on this song.)
Concealed under media blackout But I can smell the brimstone Master plan of the hidden hand Advances unabated Crises orchestrated Confluence of influence Answers worse than the problems they created Humanity hangs in the balance Calculated shearings But the sheep don't want to know The "change you can believe in" A bankster puppet through and through It's being done to you It's being done to me It's in their plan for all The large group meeting the demands of the small Go back to sleep Pathetic dupes who made charges of corruption Now that it's your "messiah" who's running amok You're blind to your own destruction I won't kiss the tyrants' feet As they force their shackles on me Servants must be brought to heel Under pain of death if need be
(Originally recorded by POISON IDEA.)
May our hearts not become hardened As we commit our friend to the dust His spirit we commend to God, knowing The judge of all the earth is just He who was seated on the throne said, "Behold I am making all things new." Then he said to "Write this down, for These words are trustworthy and true." Let us not tire of doing right, So that our liberty be true, Committing ourselves to do with all our might what our hands find to do May the pains that drain us be healed May compassion fill the void May bitterness be destroyed May we live to see this revealed (Rev.21:5) (When Paulie was learning Seth's guitar parts from a jumble of rough recordings kicking around, we noticed two riffs that were never used in any YF song. Paulie added in a third riff for some glue, and presto, we had a brand-new YF song, written with Seth's riffs. For the lyrics, Mark drew some from the eulogy he wrote and delivered at Seth's funeral.)


We took many strides to make the recording as authentic to the real deal as possible: Seth’s favorite engineer, in his favorite studio, with Seth’s long-time guitar, using the same amp head he borrowed from me for the first EP, and even using picks Seth had used. And, as always, NO pedals or effects of any kind.

We also filled the room with stuff Seth loved. First and foremost, his mom. She was there for the entire recording, and even helped out with backing vocals on "Crosses We Bear" (thanks Barb)! Her beau of the last couple decades, Jack, was there too. After setting up the equipment and mics, we made the room invoke Seth’s life. On the
amp, I had the original art from an old Satan’s Warriors shirt, and draped over the side, his leather jacket from when he was a teen. Barb also brought over a jacket he wore as a youngster (like, in his single digits). On the walls, I put up a bunch of things Seth kept with him literally for years: a Village People poster from one of the albums, the huge cardboard standup for the VP’s Live and Sleazy album, the firing range target that looks like Katon from HIRAX that I gave Seth in the early-’90s (we love HIRAX, Hail Katon), a couple promo 8”x10” photos of Damien Storm, the huge, felt million-dollar-bill depicting some generic black guy holding a fan of dollar bills like a goon (Seth bought it from a mall kiosk of photo novelties; he wanted that one off
the display), and a few other things. I also brought a stack of CDs of bands that Seth loved, just to have them there. Shortly before we started, it struck me that we should put one of the room mics up to the Live and Sleazy promo--we put the mic right up to Glenn Hughes so that we could credit Leatherman with “ambience.” Seth would have
absolutely howled laughing at that... How did we not think of doing that before? Our buddy Dave came up from CT as well, just as he had in 2002 when the first EP was recorded--so we had the same “hanging around guy” too.

Just like the Warning EP, ALL the music is done LIVE, no overdubs, no doubling the guitar tracks, just a band in a room. In fact, a few of the tracks on this recording are first takes. Besides adding on the vocals, what you hear is what happened, live. I HOPE IT PUNCHES YOU IN THE FACE. We worked furiously on these tunes for months,
hammering everything out until we killed with precision. Although I tried my best to get the tunes to sound like what Seth would have done with them, I do think it lacks that certain “untucked” element Seth had in his sound, but I’m OK with it. I’m just playing his parts because he’s currently unavailable.

I know Seth would be jacked to hear this recording, and I hope it’s good enough that he’d be pissed he didn’t play on it. I’m pissed he didn’t play on it.

More than anything else, I miss my friend. But I’ll be seeing him again.

Goodnight, Oscar!

Paulie “Felix” Kraynak - July 2012


released December 7, 2012

Recorded and mixed 24 March 2012 at New Alliance by Ken Cmar.

John Gillis-drums
Mark Fields-vocals
Nick Camilleri-bass
Paulie Kraynak-guitar
Glenn Hughes-ambience

Backing vocals by Mark, Nick, and Paulie with Barbara Donohue, Dave Fitch, and Tim Morse.

Seth wrote the music except for "Crosses We Bear" (Nick) and one riff on "The End" (Paulie).
Mark wrote the lyrics except for "Crosses We Bear" (Nick/Mark)

Vinyl mastered by Rob Colwell and Mark Fields at Bombworks Sound. Final CD/download mastering by Dave Labuguen.

Layout by Gerry Wilson (

Invaluable encouragement and assistance on this project: Mark Anderson, Robbie Blastasfuk, Kevin Burke, Hank Clark, Ken Cmar, Rob Colwell, DFJ, Barbara Donohue and Jack, Ken Felton, Brad Fletcher, friendly Germans, Dave Labuguen, Tim Lewis, Nate Linehan, Josh Randall, Matt Reid, Lee Suniga, and Gerry Wilson.


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YOU'RE FIRED Boston, Massachusetts

In early 2002, AxCx, PROCLAMATION, & KEVORKIAN'S ANGELS alumni joined forces in YOU'RE FIRED, a fast, raw HC band. We played sporadic live shows, and RSR released our "Warning" EP.

We wrote other songs, but Seth died unexpectedly in 2011. With the help of Seth's long-time collaborator Paulie, we recorded the songs properly as a farewell to our fallen brother. Thus ends the story of YOU'RE FIRED.
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