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1. |
Trash Judgement
04:24
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Birthed out a black hole. Knife nights and liquid lights. Is this my beginning or end? A man made of spoons, an enemy or friend? Birthed out again erratically unhinged. Fidgety fingers need a rock to hold. My black hole needs a path to follow or I abandon all that I know, every little hope. Relinquish this poison away from me, seedless and barren. My life's excess flesh will now be weighed. A trash judgement to wade through the winds. The man, a haunting, by my side. Then here's to surviving. We won't wash away! We're strapped to the map, not going anywhere, we'll find meaning along the way. I will find meaning if it kills me. A woman speaks of serpents, precious jewels in the walls. Suck the saccharine from the skulls. I fear we're about to begin with a cycle whose momentum propels our end. Lift your weight or eat a black hole, all that remains.
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2. |
Desert Mountain
02:32
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The lifting was exhausting, my eyes scaled the desert mountain...driest and loneliest of peaks. A sand undying, a reckless ego, by golly let's get a mixture of both and slap'em on the mountainside. Best of luck on your journey. Our feet are fleeting and robust with red, swollen feelings. So ugly to see it's failed attempts to run. Fuck this, looking back is suicide. Spring up and level the field - oh shit I can manipulate sand at will. Sensational outing, I do declare. I don't know how but we've reached the peak and are gasping for air. What I'd give for a sip of tomorrow, a bottle, a shadow. No, it's in the past. (but I'm so thirsty / subdued for now)
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3. |
Stigmatized
03:32
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Ivan:
You don’t come out of suburban New Jersey
Unblemished by an opiate stain
Without drowning in the saccharine scent of death
Fermented in the smoke of the spoon
A black mold that creeps up the wall, snaking tendrils into our lungs
Nesting in corners that our eyes choose to avoid
Until the house comes crumbling down
And we’re standing with your blood on our hands
You needed us but we weren’t there for you
Pretending not to see what you were going through
But you found something else to soothe your hurt
And it felt better than whatever we were worth
Now you’re at rest and our absence can’t hurt you
And your daughters will never know their father
The abstract man in photographs and stories
And the blood of their hair and their eyes
You deserved so much better than the shot at life you got
We stigmatize the ones who need help so they die instead of getting it
You needed us but we weren’t there for you
Pretending not to see what you were going through
But you found something else to soothe your hurt
And it felt better than whatever we were worth
It felt better than whatever we were worth
Did you know this was the end and that no one would help you
When you were lying there, dying on the floor
Did you mean to end it all when you were only just beginning
Were you begging God for just one minute more
Dave:
A treacherous mountain drops, we push through the breeze and inhale sand. Parched lips, cracked on rock. So weary, we thirst. There must be shelter. There must be. A house. Home of water, littered with spoons. Abstract entrance lit by the moon. A tendril opens my mouth and forces down moldy water and demands company. It's time to go! Push him to the floor, past the children, make a break for the door. A house. Home of water, littered with spoons.
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4. |
Addiction Incision
03:17
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Slink away from the rot. Inhale our first crisp breath. Interim relief after a mountain deathdrop. A rouse, a catalyst, a curse that we are so sick of. Then the store doors blew into the street, littered poison ads at our feet and the pushers flooded out waving needs, pointing at my throat. Cut it out. Maybe I will censor my past and eradicate the fucks...is this what a clear though sounds like? Is this what a clear thought feels like? Is this what a clear thought kills like? Is this what a clear thought looks like? All right! Let's this song of friends who fuel this stench and put an end to them. Fast forward to a deathbed and welcome in the new head emitting winds of the saccharine. Enveloped by the smell, I forget my name.
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5. |
The Saccharine Winds
04:53
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The path we walk stinks of knives and lights rotting together in the sunset. As the sun drowns behind the peaks we suffocate in the breeze of forget. Stumble on, hand-in-hand. The saccharine winds carry the pills of the past, buried in the cave of dragons cast to conceal the locket that drives us back. As the sun drowns behind the peaks we suffocate in the breeze of forget and stumble on hand-in-hand, fading. We're fading.
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6. |
Speaking of Serpents
03:02
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Ushered into the cave via the saccharine winds forever blowing abysmal, it's mouth jagged with broken bottles. A drop of me embraces and slides down the edge. And in we go...The heat seems to burrow into my skin but I shall inherit the locket it gives. As it falls from the wall it lands in our hands. Our eyes meet each other, lock, and poison. "This is mine until the end of time," is all we can muster to scream at the mirror. Louder. Louder each time. A behemoth shifts but I won't let go. I won't let go is just an echo. Beast breaths death. Run or else. Hand-in-hand is now melted as one. The locket buried within our stumps. Harrowing and isolated, flee and foe. I'll just say it, "hope is draining". Guess we just run on out from fear to fear. Suppress and suffocate with doubt. I may love you my friend, but in the end I will win. I will win and shed your hand.
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7. |
Hope is Draining
02:11
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Run! My back's ablaze. Our hands have fused and so we drift into the snow. Into a staggering weight of white. A futile wade through the white, away from the scorching heat of the night. To break the cycle we'll embrace this gravity. Impartial acceptance but unwilling to snap his hand away, we move in unison. Bring a black to a black hole, see how they interact? If death eats death it shits out life. Let's go borrow tomorrow's loan. There's the door. Fuck.
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8. |
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Door swings open. Searing pull from inside our bones. Freefall in the fire and embellish the burn. Dive on in deep. I yearn for knives. My hand says bye. A tangled mess of blood, alcohol, and syringes. Oh shit he's on fire! But I'm fueling my own. I fuel my own. You burn for nights and liquid lights. I will inhale the saccharine winds. Bow down to your black hole. He is ripped from me and falls way down, so serene. From this height still intoxicated, I climb free.
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9. |
The Endless Locket
07:49
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Birthed out again, is this my beginning or end? Torture spins around and around. Senses weaken, or is just a sign of the times? Or something much darker? I won't make it. Stumble on the path, feels like I'm missing something. What is this sinking feeling? There's a stop/start time march breaking my head. I spill out onto the floor. I don't know what I'm here for. The endless locket swings open and the world blacks out. I fall, the cliff side rips my throat, "just a drop" I plead. "One more drop then I'll stop." Why? It's dry. Time to think...pondering. That was the hardest run. Always running, blindly, stumbling, swaying, wretching everywhere, screaming, crying, lost. But there's nowhere to sit. It's just an endless alley and the bricks are dragon's teeth, a lash from behind and searing flame in front. Just keep running. Keep wanting. Just dive...dive into the locket and forget...him? Maybe I should go back. What if I go back to save the missing hand, scour the alleyways and find the man who haunts my dreams...but save him? Who will own the endless locket? Or will I lose myself? I can't see past the saccharine winds. The smell it gives intoxicates.
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Zegema Beach Records Ladysmith, British Columbia
a community rooted in promoting honest / passionate / inspiring music - usually with screaming
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