LYRICS

LYRICS:

Tombs and Sepulchers 
The cenotaph looms
Plastered with scripture
Bound with red sealing wax
Feeding on guilt, fueled by inadequacy
Craven supplication, abuse, exclusion
Let the flesh crumble to the ground
Let the blood fill the cracks between the stones
Linger in the long-reaching shadow of a tomb
Sink the last nail


Empty Vessels 
Vacancy
Glassy-eyed
Devoid of substance
All form, no function, means in absence of a fucking end
Suffocating anonymity
Page after vanishing page, without a climax
Page after barren page, blank but for the drudgery
Flat characters
Vacant picture frames
Dull knives
Placed upon the mantlepiece

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LIMINAL - EP 2012

Tracing Circles 

Indentured to the regime
Fettered to the machine
“It was never supposed to be like this”
Self-loathing self-preservation
Frothing at the mouth, leaning against the reins
Substandard, surplus population
Constrained, encumbered
Buckling under the weight of a yoke bound in iron and oak
Bound to a peg
Resolution, stripped of threads
Expectations, unhinged
Resignation sets in
Peel the skin back, let the threads unwind
Tilt the head back, let the body decline
Bound to a peg tracing circles on the surface of the earth
 
Stratified  
We regret to inform you...
We’ve placed you on the bottom
For the sake of the privileged few
Shouldering the weight
Compulsory
Stratified
Dead ends won’t ever meet
Lives
On the assembly line
Pressure’s crushing
Dead end
Stratified

Scavengers  
Feeding on a bloated corpse
won’t stop till every bone’s picked clean
Carve a home among the pitted flesh
Wear a mask of hollow reverence
A testament to a time and place
We never knew, won’t ever understand
Dissected, distilled, reassembled
Patchwork mimicry, piecemeal mockery

Stillborn
Bleach-white bones won’t preach
Prayers won’t reach deaf ears
Ill-begotten curs, mere vehicles
Failed attempts at best, unsustainable
each step blights the grass, each breath defiles the air
Prone to consumption, plagued by guilt
stillborn gods to the very last
Damned at birth
stillborn gods, failed attempts

Erosion
Wasting away
Won’t last the night
Lay bare the roots
Pry them from the loose earth
The illusion of progress
This sense of urgency
Every fucking foothold
Swept from beneath my feet
Shedding surface layers
Every hour of every day
Constant bombardment
This trauma’s taking it’s toll on me
Worm-eaten wood
Wasting away
Won’t weather the elements 
Won’t last the night

Entitlement
Your righteous indignation, purebred arrogance
Misplaced self-worth, sustained by inheritance
Amid your posturing, you’ve mistaken for a warm and caring place
A world that’s cold and unforgiving, that’ll leave you to rot
No one owes you a fucking thing
Privileged parasites playing dress-up in the family wardrobe
Burlesque revolution wrapped in vintage twill and clove smoke
Fair-weather revolt, fucking leech, call me a hypocrite
No one owes you a fucking thing
Worse than worthless
No one owes you a fucking thing
Worse than worthless
Entitled to nothing, indebted for life

Medea
Opaque as the single page loosed from a cracked spine
Solace only in the minutiae, revel in the details
The way is winding, labyrinthine
I’ve strayed from the crossroads only to arrive again
Where three roads meet, three faces mark the gate
Liminal, hailed by the barking of the dogs
Mother, please forgive our sins
Left to our devices, we’ll linger in the shadow of the crone
Mother, reduce us to raw elements
Tread softly, the path prescribed since birth
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