1. |
Concrete Trenches
03:52
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Concrete Trenches
The asylum drained into the streets.
Without a cure or diagnosis.
Bags of flesh married to the concrete.
To be roadkill for a crow's feast.
Infected, rejected.
Breathe-in the waiting room of Potter's field
Neglected, defective.
Causalities of a coward's deal
Warlords giveth and then taketh away.
Purpose until purpose is strayed.
Are we staring into the eyes of madness?
Or is madness in the minds of the forgotten?
War torn beggars
Forward now and forever
Retreat; Repeat
The nation's art of defeat.
Can this mistreatment even come to a conclusion?
Content with vagrants and mirrors
instead of disillusion.
Erase all the memories of suffering.
Until the consequence comes for us all.
Erase all the memories of the suffering until it comes for us all
The war drums echo
Without relief from red psychosis.
Bags of heads
Filled with holes and last screams.
Endless trenches.
Married to the concrete.
Now and forever
We are the pawns
The long forgotten echos
Infected by the sickness plaguing man for centuries
We are the casualties
The war Lord's cattle
Tie that noose and fold the flag
White flag white flag
Lower me down
Prisoners of concrete Trenches
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2. |
Scent of the Cage
03:09
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The scent of the cage
the raw touch of its frame.
A place of my own that needs not a name.
My own grand illusions.
My concrete ignorance.
Chorus:
Waiting, here I lay, in utero again
Only my body and the blackness.
with the company of the dead
(Waiting, here I lie, in utero again…)
Such resemblance to the place which I have fled.
Is this my rebirth?
Or have I been misled?
There’s a light coming through the opening
Hours drag their hands
through ash and I know
I need time more than it needs me
Each second casts me further upon this shapeless sea.
I can’t seem to lose my grip from this neck
Intent to disconnect with a glass and a dent.
And I know.. I know,
My hope is my prison.
Now there's a deafening silence
burning through my ears.
So foolish of me to believe
I could have lingered here.
Certainty died the day I followed fear.
In this moment
I am shame
If to linger
Then I am to blame.
Waiting
here I lay, in utero again.
My body and the blackness with the company of the dead.
This is my rebirth
I will not be misled.
I must escape this prison
Just like my hope escaped me.
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3. |
Patsy
03:47
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Patsy
Hollow his eyes, his mind is a threat.
Put a man in the tower and a crowd on the set.
If you fuck with the big boys, they'll take that head from its neck.
If you fuck with the big boys they'll take that head from it's fucking neck.
Splatter the message in red white and blue.
Lights in their retinas.
Make them blind to the clues.
Speak up to be cast out.
In time, we all lose.
A day to be remembered, replaced, then forgotten
The story they wanted
not the events that unfolded
Hollow their lives
So their minds are no threat.
Dilate the eyes so the fiction grows wider.
So the fiction wider grows wider.
A day to be remembered, replaced, then forgotten.
The story they wanted not the events that unfolded.
Corner the Patsy!
Kill the fucking Patsy
Jam his face on the news
Distract the masses
From seeking the truth.
The truth is dead and buried.
We're just as guilty as the man in the tower.
We're just as guilty as the men in the field.
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4. |
Goodpasture
03:01
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Goodpasture
A question leaves the gate as fables count apostles.
Stitches hold the wound at bay while the cavalry blossoms.
Dried lungs split blood and the dirt is stained with losses.
We beg and scream for peace, but peace is strung on crosses.
Marching the crusade with a whimpering smile.
Masking the pain like the death of a child.
Without a shiver or judgement
A grave is just a grave.
Noble deeds only pacify, as we tread each priceless hour.
Crippled men carry lifeless limbs; if only time would let them borrow.
Some free time or some lost space, it would do our simple thoughts right in.
Some free will or a thick rope.
I believe, would do just the same.
Without a shiver or judgement
A grave is just a grave
Dried lungs split blood and the dirt is stained with losses.
We beg and scream for peace, but peace is strung on crosses.
Holy wars only pauperize; as we drill straight to the bottom.
Prostitutes flirt with casualties; dancing round such casual causes
A question leaves the gates as we trample all, the sick, the weak.
Dried lungs split blood
While Martyrs hang from crosses
We beg and scream
The dirt is stained with losses
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5. |
Servant of Time
04:01
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Servant of time
As I miscarry and decay
Distressed kaleidoscopes erode the fractured frame.
Mocking the grace to deflect misery.
Vacancy in my chest while I curse holy names.
Forever faceless.
Servant of time.
Hallowed hatred won't abandon me.
Coursing through my arteries.
Cut ties with all beliefs.
So, where the hell’s my harmony?
Dispatch the sparrows
My life is crime.
Heathenous drivel
Disrupts the hive.
Bite my tongue
Go save your soul
While I stitch my skin.
I am a godless son of a saint.
Fearfully faltering.
Exist-ing gracelessly.
Perspiring upon swampy terrain;
As I march this pulse artlessly.
Faith is a crutch I'll never receive.
But in excess of other futile vices.
Faltering on borderlines.
Foundationless.
Nihilistic notions slither through my spine.
God is mankind's greatest lie.
Maybe I'd be better off believing in something.
God is mankind's greatest lie.
Nihilistic notions slither through my spine.
I am a godless son of a saint.
Fearfully faltering.
Exist-ing gracelessly.
Perspiring upon swampy terrain;
As I march this pulse artlessly.
Dispatch the sparrows.
Straight to the gallows.
Dispatch the sparrows. My life is a crime. (X2)
Forever faceless. Servant of time.(x3)
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6. |
Flags Down
02:56
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Flags Down
Violent winds are cover in the night
of horrors black and brewing
to extinguish what is bright.
Post Breakdown:
No equation to console
their fragile little minds.
Forge a child's memory
We remember to forget.
The teeth in their heads
are swallowing instead.
Nothing fits the symptoms.
Just promises of led.
Soon to be missed
the safety of their beds.
No class as the halls,
like them,
taste the red.
Stomach's groaning
with a mortal grudge.
Hell released by the slightest touch.
A flash escapes
but the rest we flush.
Yet it’s still too soon
to say too much.
And when the bell rings…
A glance across the chaos
only moments from the lost.
A desperate attempt to
disarm the fire from its host.
And when the bell rings
Forge another fucking memory.
A final thought to dismantle
what he fears the most.
A hopeful breath answered
by its greatest cost.
Who spilt the numbers?
Just math on the floor.
Is anybody counting?
Just Cardinals on the floor.
(Cardinals)
Flags Down.
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Art of Defeat Saint Petersburg, Florida
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