1. |
Intro/Stain
02:26
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Limping to a displaced beat.
Diving downward toward the concrete.
Problems solved, on the descent toward ground,
Thirteen stories told in a heartbeat.
Each chapter breeds another victim.
Deemed innocent, until I met them.
Problems solved, descend to ground,
Thirteen stories closed in a heartbeat.
The guilt rests heavy on the ground floor.
The stain I left won’t go away.
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2. |
Clot
01:43
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Waiting for the crushing blow to rear it’s head,
For the soil underneath to give up it’s grasp,
For the clouds to clasp and never open back up,
For the oxygen to deplete, life leaves me.
The rain hasn’t stopped and sleep hasn’t come.
The body rests dejected enticed by death’s grin.
Tell me how you cared, I’ll show you true neglect
Tell me you were there, I’ll show you an absence of life.
Aiming for the perfect shot, between the eyes.
Hiding secrets kept behind an empty smile.
Beguiled eyes fed rehearsed lines.
Razor slices vein, dripping exit sign.
The rain hasn’t stopped and sleep hasn’t come.
The body rots, neglected, enticed by death’s grin.
Tell me how you cared, I’ll show you true neglect
Tell me you were there, I’ll show you an absence of life.
No written warning, no subtle hints.
The bed is burning and i’m tucked in.
The soil opens, I find my plot.
The bleed keeps seeping, these wounds never clot.
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3. |
Slow Decay
01:17
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On the cusp of total collapse
Feet rest shackled, caught in the trap.
Faulty soul, devoid of function
shattered bone, plagued by destruction.
If I could be anyone, I’d always chose myself.
Face my life alone, instead of calling out for help
Surrender to the pain in lieu of the charade
As the false hope that surrounds me slowly decays.
Faulty soul, devoid of function
shattered bone, plagued by destruction
Surrender to the pain in lieu of the charade
As the false hope that surrounds me slowly decays.
Slow Decay.
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4. |
Pestilent Soul
01:50
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Absolve the self of eternal sin
Cut to the bone, cleansed from within.
The blade grown dull, a final puncture
The ruse has worn it’s welcome
Facade begins to rupture.
Ties are cut, connections severed.
Greeted by the din of nocturnal terror.
Muddled thoughts i’m forced to confront
The grave isolation, the unending rut.
Crawl to life’s peak, for a second chance
at a failed attempt.
Clinging on to every wrong
The guilt free days are so far from gone.
Making amends through a fallen chair.
Apologized to ruined lives with a deceased stare.
A pestilent soul; now a decorative piece
Hanging from the ceiling, the suffering ceased.
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Forbidden Subjects New Jersey
Matt: Guitar
Dogmeat: Bass
Dante: Drums/Vocals
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