"Nothin, no control, nothin I can say for sure, nothin ta do but endure, get high without touchin the sky, denied the hope a'escape, starin the hole in its face with no reason ta believe they'll ever cure the disease - please. Poverty is and will be, and in 1000 years it'll still be. It's the same old, same old on this planet Earth, and the same cold, same cold in the town of my birth, and all that they gut from the hills will ever be worth is just the price of our blood and the weight of our curse."
- Extract from "I Mine" by Pit Boy, copyright Amalgam Records, 2009