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lyrics
Blindsided
blinked thrice,
as the life left
his eyes
Sacrificial script
engraved in the forehead,
of An unlucky bastard
Doused in kerosene
Constant controversions in my head
And I’m taking everything you said and discounting it
Forgetful of the things you
plot against
Blood thickens And you’re wobbling,
adorned with tunnel vision
The heart quivers, Pulse quickens
Assumptions of a confidence operator. You have lost ground to stand on. You're done.
the conjecture burns
Lightly place them at the helm
“decaying mental architecture
Proves you aren’t fit for this world”
You're about to hit the pavement
Wobble wheel
but as long as i have legs until I die
Shinner motherfucker
As the gravel bites into my knee
Forty seconds
until he flatlines
The note on this bet
Says your days
are all mine
Bottom of the barrel
Not my first choice
But you better believe
we’re having a Fucking time
Dead
stop in your tracks
Masks go up
All Clad in black,
Bleak;
It’s an art of preservation,
in tact sanity with no
reservations
How can I make this look like an accident?
Will they find me?
Overstimulation, shame, the abashment, restoration of my psyche
or should i escape this creation?
supported by 47 fans who also own “Subliminal Ritual”
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego