1. |
Sound Bath/Sub Lingual
03:12
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Shrieking down halls of doom. Binding my sacrifice to enter this sewer of dreams. Hell is now. My final mistake dissolves in saliva and ties purpose to all that I’ve seen. I can’t help it. I can’t feel it. Please, no... I can’t help it. I can’t feel it. I can’t stop it. I can’t heal it. Hanging on my last crumbled memory. Gnashing, twisting, crushing, piercing, grinding, sucking, ripping, sublingual devastation. Have mercy.
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2. |
Predawn Light
02:16
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Buried in guilt. Sunken and paralyzed in the hay. Contemplating the constellations. Follow the bright star with your eyes. Void of judgement, it shines on everything.
Kind and pure predawn light. Grand mal pleasures. Last exhale. Kind and pure scintillating light. Grand mal pleasures. Birth in sight. Birth inside death. The light!
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3. |
Mirages
02:21
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When you’re at war with the things you can’t see, the demons you can’t touch, the things you don’t know. Hate forms a rock in the gut and it begins to glow and it’ll cauterize but it’ll stay in place.
Rotting in the sun isn’t the only choice. Somewhere there’s a guiding shade for your burning voice.
New lust for the feelings you can’t resist, crushing the innocence. Now you salivate. Traumatizing memories turn to scars so you use the smokes of sage but now they suffocate you.
Rotting in the sun isn’t the only choice. Somewhere there’s a guiding shade for your hopeless voice. Regardless... deep mirages. This internal insurrection explodes high.
Drowning in barbed wire, I feel like a cactus. There’s no other way but to surrender to pain, so I bathe in the silence. Fade into no one. Swallow the illusion and rip it out.
Too much heat to see. Mirages inside. Reach beneath. You must rip them out until only love is left behind.
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4. |
The Driver
03:05
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red mud
earth in springtime
crops underneath
young, volatile and sweet
Could be too late
fresh blood
circulation, computation
under new management:
big bad violator
What’s behind this door?
In envy they lush and gauze over you. Behind the swaying flame silhouettes bleed up the walls and brag to me, “I used opium to spark the eastern super death, I used black plastics to choke the world.” I need to fill the empty space.
Now I’m the Driver. We’re all dying in a glass house filled with nerve gas. They can see you. Oblivious. Playing silly games. Too hot too fast.
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5. |
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March!
Oh, realm of mine! I want to reach the sky. No guidelines, eye for an eye. Language: setting for a sin. Big brother Adonai. Now I want to touch the bastard. Welcome to high production.
March!
Oh, realm of mine! Let’s try a seventh time. Divine intervention. Forked tongues divide. It seems that death is contagious, I need you alive. Whine and babble on about your almighty czar. My will in high production land.
Like an angel. Don’t you trust me? Do you respect me? I’ll give you everything you need when you’re submitting to me. High production land.
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Copperhead Richmond, Virginia
‘Gazing In The Dark’ LP out 9/6/19 on Purple Tape Pedigree CS & DIGI
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