1. |
Hand In Saw
01:16
|
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|
a gold sun sets,
hollow horizons take its place.
slate grey, stone faced and vacant,
your bed is the promise of a ghost.
for every empty hour.
for every smile turned sour.
the suicides of a thousand silent mourners.
a letterbomb as a warning,
to embrace some truths before they bury you.
the void calls.
christ himself won't answer,
when you look back in anguish.
if there's no tomorrows,
i'll be the first to have my say.
the night still hides what we have done,
and tomorrow's all the same.
by every severed hand,
and every collapsed vein,
i'll write it in blood.
|
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2. |
An Altar
01:48
|
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|
dear nothing, dear no one
is there still life at the seams?
you wander south in earnest,
on bruised hands and legs.
it never gets better.
i jumped from the stars so desperately.
i can't escape, I'm never free.
torn asunder, the weight of knowing better.
still surrender, to the guilt of doing more.
the wolves will have their say,
when the rats all find a way.
empty hands for empty praise,
when the arrows in the skin remain.
worship. falter. build another altar.
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3. |
Shameless Bastard
01:08
|
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|
broken haloes frame the flights of stairs you climb.
beaten and stumbling, existing to survive.
there will be no rest.
feed the earth, and monetize your pain.
sincerity's the first to die, your skin remains.
coward.
hang your head.
blind before humility.
stand without stability.
coward hang your head.
|
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4. |
Dead Sons
01:33
|
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|
some would say it's futile,
and I think I agree,
to think mortality and its costs would come conveniently.
four funerals, and four more on the way.
loss approaches silently.
every night i'm sharply woken
to wash the blood from useless hands
water will never purge them.
every dead scene goes back to the same road.
endlessly, with a smile i choke.
my joy has burned in the face of the sun.
i can't take knowing any more dead sons.
|
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5. |
Caverns
01:47
|
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|
the view from here is endless,
a black hole without hope.
this is the room where sunlight dies,
to cold applause and hollow cries.
a high cost of reality,
takes the skin and peels it back.
exhausted fucking coward,
a debtor with no leverage.
my home built in a house fire,
the roof is gone, the sky collapsed.
our curtain call ends.
throes of isolation are killing everything i love.
everything i love.
somber cadavers finally finding peace,
their weary hands now clutching their own throats.
what fools we were to pray for this to last.
i'll forever keep my fear of joy, and never give it back.
beyond this door is where i leave you,
alone with the light.
|
||||
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