1. |
You've Seen Me
01:47
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You've heard it all before, like bones on salty floors underneath the sea, you've seen me. This day has come before and passed, no moment hinders from the last, believe, you've seen me.
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2. |
Into the Mist
04:49
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I'm going out. Like Elliot and Kurt Cobain, down to the south where the king, my devil, has domain. Ooh Into the Mist. Ooh Into the Realm of falling. Realm of coursing fire, free me of my testimony, I have no more desire.
I'm going out. Like Morrison a Pink moon snake, into the ground, buried in the scales I shake Ooh Into the Mist. Ooh into the Realm of falling. Realm of coursing flame, free me of my testimony, I have no one to blame.
I'm going out. Like Lil Peep and Mac can't refrain swallowing loud. We need a wrench to dislodge our brains. Ooh Into the mist. Ooh into the Realm of falling. Realm of coursing wind, free me of my testimony, give me rest from my sins.
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3. |
Great Beasts
04:43
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Great Beasts fall hard and their pilots are shaking at the head, mount their corpses on our doorstep exhibiting the grizzly dead.
Come, deliver you into my hands. I'll strike you down, scatter you across the land. And we'll make tents out of your woven clothes, and house the hands that set your table, build your shelter, raise the philistine you are.
And here it seemed you had fallen. The ground busted your head, my men pronounced you dead. And here it seems you'd rose up in the spirit of vengeance and a stone for a stone.
And this beast might catch some heat
Your removal is our greatest
It is no accident that you will bleed
And this beast might catch some heat
Great Beasts fall hard and their pilots are shaking at the head, mount their corpses on our doorstep exhibiting the grizzly dead.
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4. |
The Bar Song
04:06
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You should stay safely away from me. Keep yourself distant and don't look back. I rode in on liquid and painful thrills, the number of which I cannot keep track. My smile is a breach in the face of common decency.
Am I alone? I fear. Rather die than sit in silence so clever and cold. Am I alone? I fear.
Bottoms up and you'll feel better, pal. All concerns will be swept up in bar towels. You'd be crazy not to join this game. Last one down and its the wall of fame. I see this isn't your first time, we'll write in ink and then with blood you'll sign. Red as cheeks and wet as glassy eyes. And in the morning you'll be so surprised at how you love all this pain.
I spend my nights indecently. East and west the cuckoo flies. Vodka tonics, gin, whiskey, skulls-and-bones in my eyes. Passionate evil, a passion for you. We had the keys to hell's corridors. Maggots and weevils sitting in these pews, and when I open those church doors.
Treading dark and icy gulfs of hubris-colored rain, there's a failure in my sacrament, a failure in my praying. Oh crazy love, better highs with better pain. Oh crazy love, better highs with better pain.
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5. |
Anosognosia
05:12
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Once I had thought that I had lost my way. I stared into the screen and it set me straight. Straight into the market so I could buy, a pile of useless shit to help me pass the time. Dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot.
It's a game that never mattered, but its holy all the same. The weight of the enlightened. The density of flame. It never casts a shadow you won't hear it crackling. Anosognosia, you never saw it coming.
I wonder what anybody could do with fame, when every day is captured in a camera frame. The only way to become free is to become deranged. These are not my own words but someone elses, rearranged. Dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot.
When you're walking down the alley with your keys between your fingers, and all the gentle people have gone home to rest. It's darker in the valley where the shadows often linger, but never quite as dark as where the cameras all nest. Anosognosia, you never saw it coming. Theres nothing wrong can't you see its all lies. Theres nothing wrong can't you see its all Anosognosia, you never saw it coming.
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6. |
Slopwalk
00:58
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7. |
Sacramental Bodies
05:01
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And angels fall like porcelain bombs
and soon you'll see what this all means to me
Herein dwells the Martian sun. Red upon the souls that drift on unredeemed. I hope I'm not the only one. It feels as though its death- its now our only theme.
I would crawl into a silent cave, meditate, to sustain myself on a single grain.
I could not attain it if I tried, Off this brittle parchment that its inscribed.
Obscuring light of truth, the fundamental real, its charming that I feel as though there's anywhere to go.
From a night-woke raven, tapping at the glass. The scroll: weathered and sent weeks ago. The words: stiff and cold am I inured. Am I washed up and dead as seas, rigid as the sacramental bodies?
Herein dwells the Martian sun. Red upon the souls that drift on unredeemed. I hope I'm not the only one. It feels as though its death- its now our only theme.
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8. |
Through the Center
04:57
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The coldness has gone at last when the steams issues from the path. You know, it really does a man in, when the glaciers come to carve him. In this swollen affectation, its the way I like to do it. Its the wind in muggy quarters where the only way out is through the center.
And I feel it starting to erode, and I recognize it cutting with its edge. Wish I could tell you when, but the only way out is in. Its through the center.
You know most of the rules change, every now and again, so don't let this grueling shame infect your head. There's no sense in this tyranny, its all made up of hate and greed.
Through the center.
And if I should refuse, I'd have my Self to lose, wish I could tell you when, but the only way out is in.
And I feel it starting to erode, and I recognize it cutting with its edge. Wish I could tell you when, but the only way out is in. Its through the center.
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9. |
Two-Timing
07:12
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Weave me into a fable, a fable of history I'll never see. I'll never see the man behind my judgments, behind his name. You'll never see what's hidden in frames. The sculptors stone was chiseled to sand, in search for the truth. What's hidden in stone has nothing to lose.
You lost your rights when you lost mine, and now you're running out of-
Time has come to slip through fingers and not to flies like arrows.
You laid claim a broken master and then you raised us up
Bastards love is not see easy when home is poverty.
Who let you bring one more spoonful of that cake to your-
Lip service from those who walk free, walk freely to our doom.
A maniac whose smiling in vain, it was all an act before his eyes became shapeless swells of godless bells that made walls barricades.
If left intact, the division of the mind, the ruins of this world will be the only sign. A well deserved and trigger-pulled conclusion to mankind.
You know you scare me more than I can take, and I hate the way you've got your boots on this world's throat, you tossing in what can't float. You lost your rights when you lost mine.
You lost your rights when you lost mine, and now you're running out of-
Time has come to slip through fingers and not to flies like arrows.
You laid claim a broken master and then you raised us up
a bastard whose love is not so easy.
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10. |
One-Night Star
02:38
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This is not a favor. This is all for fun. Lets head back to your place.
Maybe you and me, baby, I don't mean to moan but lately I've been driven crazy by these nights alone. I just want to treat you right, I know that I can. You and me can seize the night, I'll be your man, and maybe you and me, baby, I don't meant to moan but this is not a favor. This is all for fun. Lets head back to your place.
Ring a ring of roses, meet me on the curb, nothing to expose us, nothing in our words. This will save us from the ashes. This will save us from the ashes.
Two frolicking hoodlums full of smoke and mirth. We can lift our shirts up and hide from planet earth. You're such a pretty woman, I swear you rose from hell. I'll see you in the morning and bid you a farewell.
This is not a favor. This is all for fun. Lets head back to you're place.
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11. |
Feeding Time
04:47
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Tree from a sapling. Over the ages the rings on the trunk, and the books in the pages and deaths a recital of old seeds revival. Oh god it's been a while, since feeding time.
It's been a while but as the hands keep spinning. Don't trust denials lets just keep on grinning.
Even though hours I chose to flip and toss like coins in wishing wells for efforts without cost. Sinking swamps deep with time lay behind my ears, curtains fall but the smoke lingers past the cheers. Its been a while since feeding time. Its been a while since feeding time.
Its been a while, lets cut to the chase, the mystery was solved centuries ago with unasphyxiated truth. Heard this line a million times. Cornered on the market stages, move. Out of sight and out of mind. Simians deliberate abuses. Its been a while since feeding time.
Wear out your welcome, don't mind if I do. These prophecies were dreamt up by you. Keep closed your mind, keep clenched your fist, wear out your list of injustices.
Even though hours I chose to flip and toss like coins in wishing wells for efforts without cost. Sinking swamps deep with time lay behind my ears, curtains fall but the smoke lingers past the cheers. Even though hours I wasted.
Its been a while, lets cut to the chase, the mystery was solved centuries ago with unasphyxiated truth. Heard this line a million times. Cornered on the market stages, move. Out of sight and out of mind. Simians deliberate abuses. Its been a while since feeding time.
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12. |
Lord of Razors
04:36
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Illumination. Fire up an ancient torch.
Lord of Razors issuing my red report.
Lord of Bullets, lend me a heart to cut short.
Indiscriminately murder a hoard.
Make no mistake, you are standing here in Satan's court.
In my death cult, mortal fear is a sport.
Turn your skin right, inside out. You're as red as water fountains. I am as clear as my ambition. I have come to break tradition. I am not here to sit the fence. I need you to feel my vengeance. Incineration. Fire of your rotten corpse.
And as my cultists gather around our smiles quickly turn to frowns. And yours, a mouth of open fear. The rivers gushing, can't you hear? I hope you're cold, I built a fire. The smell of hair, it gets me higher.
I think I've fallen into a rage, here at the dawn of the final age.
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Damien Burrello Boise, Idaho
Singer/Songwriter. Rock, pop, prog influenced.
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