1. |
To Grind
07:42
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I am patient to it, but I’m not your martyr
A wit, dry dipped in venom, just forges broken armour
Resident in process, I am not misanthropic
But if you died tomorrow, I wouldn’t bat a dusty eye.
Prescient in conscience, swarming alone untethered
Less of mind and body, more of belts and buckles
Stagnant in its waters, distilling vocal slaughter
But if you died tomorrow, I wouldn’t miss a single stride
The common violent tenses, screams of silent rages
Shrill in lost performance, denotes the demarcation
Something so beholding, clutching to fallen moments
And if you died tomorrow, you wouldn’t raise a gentle sigh.
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2. |
The Charm & The Chaff
04:38
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Bristled maids in advent spark, herding lightly through the flock
As strident forces run amok, raising cautious eyes.
Moral is as moral does, wonders cease, the mighty foist
Scrapes the barrel, picks the lock, and rests on spindly weights.
I can read your eyes
I can read your lies
Fraying dresses, matted locks, where’s your conscience, on the rot?
Spayed like debris, on the rocks, filtered brine and sand.
Ethics are a tricky trait, feeding lines and luring bait
Promises that bear no weight, give birth to idle strands.
I can read your eyes
I can read your lies
Tickled hearts of charm and chaff, bending neatly, cane the rack
Spent your scruples, now you’re flat, fuck em’, anyway.
Have you ever, seen the knot, hanging heavy, tense and taut
Teasing, looming on your lot, worlds bound to collide.
I can read your eyes
I can read your lies
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3. |
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Flitter, don't cry, fluttering butterfly
Stems of light, slowly gliding through your life
Thundering course and blind
Drowning in a pageant of wine
Fracturing mosaic of a life
Stranded, can't fly, stuttering butterfly
I'm, no fool, I could see it waiting for you
I can see it weighing on you
Fashion is the folly of the fool
Fashion is the folly of the fool
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4. |
A Stagger Of Kindness
06:34
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The hustled blushing bean, slumbers to the soaking floor
A shattered shell of writhing ghostly flaws
Hankering for calm, but betrothed to human laws
Wallowed tears roll gently to the floor
For now, the words don’t seem to help, they only hurt.
For now, the stagger of human kindness makes it worse
The hustled blushing bean, crumbling to the open door
An effervescent gloom forever more
Autumns auburn yearn, slides to greying winters dawn
Speckled shades of happiness contort
For now, the words don’t seem to help, they only hurt.
For now, the stagger of human kindness makes it worse.
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5. |
Vultures
04:02
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Picture the scene, amidst the scouring drawl and rank occupation of deep end, slow life, humdrum regency. Colloquial pleasantries and indoctrinated niceties strike parity, while thick rich smiles and glistened snow cold eyes exchange licentious yet cautious glances of bitter indignation into the frosted and fracturing ether and every glass in attendance is sloshed and chinked and cloaked in warbled , throat-less delicacy, not to temp fate or to reveal thyself, on desperate guard, yearning for silent repose.
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6. |
Rabble The Rousers
02:49
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Rabble the rousers
Strewn and dismaying, these coat of arms, you’re betraying.
With your rotten, indignation, these fallen isles, modus vivendi
Singing
We can’t help it, we just want it
Sever our womb and bleed out of it
Suits in armour, hanging from the smokey towers
Dead tomorrow
Rabble the rousers
Silence, in the shadows, from whence the rabble, had trained its arrows
With its cutting and bitter poison, scything down, the herding bison
Singing
We can’t help it, we just want it
Sever our womb and bleed out of it
Piggy set aloof in his ivory tower
Spin the roast upon the fire
We can’t help it, we just want it
Sever our womb and bleed out of it
Piggy set aloof in his ivory tower
Fuck the world and fuck the order.
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7. |
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This prairie so grey, a white wash away,
We go down, down, down.
But that something holds the sway, happens every day.
Eager and wired, lodged in the mire
We trot on, on, on
Lost in pregnant aimlessness, muted cottoned bliss
Onwards we roll, the poignancy droll
Spare a thought for all
Trapped in foisted marketing, impervious to sin.
The walls seem so high, a windowless hive
As the raindrops fall
Onto dead formalities and shallow promises
What can I say? I don’t know what we can do.
The Church of the English martyrs, pulls into view
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8. |
Alter Rex
06:39
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Push the plaudits to the right side
Set your targets, aim them sky high
What have you done? What do you want?
Shaggy mop to soak the mess up.
Knife in my hand, knife in your back
Slowly squirm your way out of it
Cronies lurk in shady corners
To tend your wounds, clean the blood up, now.
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9. |
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We can’t help it, we slip to repose
Chew the noose that hangs around your throat
Have you ever seen, the wilting leaves of winter’s dawn?
Baying the in the harness of the hopes of summer’s mourn.
Boats, still sailing.
Eyes everywhere, piercing through your hope
Fresh reminders, nothing here to hold
Have you ever seen, the cold and terse aggressive curse?
Bound curdling in the fallow of your whiskey soaked remorse.
Boats, still sailing.
These silent crowds, I can’t find a care
Words run empty, swim into the air
House of devils, marching to the drum
Cut their wings and leave them in the road.
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