1. |
Narcissist's Prayer
06:12
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At last, as we plunge into the abscess, blighted spirits so bereft. Shameful weeping, voices echo from the bottom of a well. Can you hear the cries of worn out phrases from listless gazes, pretentious lingering in childish phases, the heartless hand and empty gestures, the pitiful searching for hollow pleasures. Lost in a palace of mirrors, staring at infinite reflections gazing back, too near to see the mark of shame. Lost in empty dialectics, the art of building up and tearing down, of discussing all things and accomplishing nothing. Of compromised ideals, friendships abandoned, our works substandard, principles meandering. So speak our names as a warning, as a curse, as a failure. At last, it's time to die. So die.
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2. |
Emotional Terrorist
04:07
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Everything you've ever done, everything you've ever said, everything you've ever felt is a dagger on my belt. And I'm going to stab it till you're dead to me. Everything I've ever done, everything I've ever said, everything I've ever felt is a chain around my neck. And you're going to drag it till I'm dead to me. I thought nothing could come between us, two dreamers. But our mistakes are etched in stone till the end of our lives, till the end of time. And we're being crushed beneath the weight.
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3. |
Lonely Vigil
03:05
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When the shrieking eye turns inward to the prison without locks, weakness laid bare. The artifice peeled back. The true face is revealed. To see the walls of limitation, grey skinned and impure, that righteous incoherence. When the shrieking eye turns inward, weakness is laid bare.
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4. |
House of Ideas
06:43
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Feckless servants, the extension of a non-creative will. Make the compromise to bring ruin in the palace of imagination. Flaccid servants, the boot print of a non-creative will. If that's moving up, then I'm moving out. You're nothing without shambling spectres, sloughing spirit stripped from the flesh. We made the compromise and brought ruin to our palace of imagination. Get a job!
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5. |
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I am a rock in a sea of chaos: settled, subdued, unmovable, impervious. Muscles unclenched, blood flows freely, anger exhaled, peace inhaled deeply. I am a rock in a sea of chaos: determined and strong, unreachable, impervious. Day after day I'm secure within my room. I am impervious. Day after day I'm sealed within my tomb. I am impervious. ...when I've walked in the garden, when everything's quiet...
I am a rock in a sea of chaos.
I am impervious.
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6. |
Unbidden Guest
03:43
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Unwelcome clamant drawn to the flame of a burning sanctum, engorged in ash. The acrid fumes obscuring sight, obstructing speech, incensed occlusion. The perception of slight discharges cold corrosion, tracing caustic passage underneath the flesh. In the veiny pathways, spread throughout the limbs, a numbing excretion sapping thought. Intrusive presence, unencumbered by reason--or respect. It can't be soothed nor placated. Unbidden guest drawn through the gateway of exposed nerve, an open portal, a door unhinged by soured expectations, harsh resentment, constricts the chest. Will I never be rid of you? Festering wound, the open gateway, fractal nerve, total occlusion.
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7. |
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Lament over an empty tomb, scorned by those who gave up too soon. Kneel before the empty tomb. I am the scourge. I am the open wound. Pockmarked fields by open graves, my dying dream that no one saves reminding me of all the ways, an endless waste of all my days. Lament over an empty tomb, forsaken—I gave up too soon. Kneel before the empty tomb. I am the scourge, the self-inflicted wound. Repetition clouds my vision. No one listens. Sinew stripped by exhausting subservience, open veins to a perverted reverence, as we succumb to our compulsive deviance. All the things I'll never see, all the things I'll never be, all there is that's left for me is here in this eternity. All the things I'll never see, all the things I'll never be, all my hopes are memory, all there is that's left for me is obligation.
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8. |
The Promise
04:30
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Surrender unto a ceaseless path, portraits hung in empty halls, frameless heads on nameless walls. Submit to the scourge pit, carving the lines across an age'ed face, giving misery its place. Ragged men in ragged clothes, silver thorn and bloody rose. Pride that has come to define the martyrdom spoiling our minds. My triumph's a desert, barren, and tame. Who was the promise for? Laborious tasks that are futile and vain. Who was the promise for? Meaningless bonds that succumb to the years. Who was the promise for?. Now we're washing the sand with our salty tears. Who was the promise for? Forsake the ceaseless path. Escape a hollow shrine of crumbling halls, layers of mold on toppled walls. Emerge from the scourge pit, carving the lines across an age'ed face, giving misery its place. We're still ragged men in ragged clothes, broken face and bloody nose. Arrogance comes to define the shrillness entwined in our whine. Exhausting a thought for a lifetime of pain. Who was the promise for? An animate corpse that is toiling in vain. Who was the promise for? A silence so loud that it rings in our ears. (...) Now we're washing the sand with our ghostly tears. Who was the promise for? Blind leading blind, never feel the laughter. Search through time. Nothing reveals the answer. Unmoored, adrift in a nebulous void. Unmoored, sink in a depthless void.
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9. |
Panic Stricken, I Flee
04:39
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Suppression and subservience, overwhelmed and discontent, indentured to my petulance, or maybe tantrum's what I meant. Acceptance is a settlement Surrounding me in decadence, embittered by impermanence, a poorly noted temperament. And it takes me from the path. It leaves me in the woods. Forsaken to a wilderness, a self-inflicted loneliness. Manifest my arrogance of my self-centered negligence. Approximation at its best, compromise in ignorance, sinking into wretchedness, self-destructive negligence. I'm malcontent, unsatisfied with these concessions. It's one let down after another, misunderstandings, endless struggle. Cry for help. No one hears me.
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10. |
Siege Perilous
05:18
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Unclench those fists and release that white knuckled grip, a resolution to fruitless searching, a renouncement of sentimental frailty. Farewell, age’ed stalwarts. Farewell, stagnant corruption. Arise from our deathbed. Return to life and walk away. Life used to be so hard, now everything is easy. Turn back the page with my friend, with my friend from so far away. We've seen how love can grow, now we see how it dies. Peace has finally come upon me, and it leaves me weak. Farewell, age’ed stalwarts. Farewell, ancient corruption. Arise from our deathbed. Return to life and walk away. And I’m not coming back.
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