1. |
A Memory
07:00
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the checklists pile up. to fuck to fight to fix.
there’s always another thing. mountains of scratch marks.
so immense and looming. we submit in the silhouette.
only to chase destinations. without a damn place to be.
locking every door behind us as we leave.
yet still my sleep yearns for it. and when I awaken it’s gone.
just these empty hands and a memory.
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2. |
By Design
03:53
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in the shadow of forgotten words. our cold breath turns to smoke.
a silhouette of reality. spoken to bury the truth.
with denial embedded by design. deny. forget. distort. bury. the truth.
we shut it off for reasons we’ll never know. cascading as we fall.
down toward hard stone below. waiting to break us. our blood runs cold.
we can see our demise. its poison races through veins.
the bitter taste drowning our senses. crashing as we go blind.
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3. |
Pitfall
05:07
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chew it up and spit it out. and blame it on the past.
on the way were before. with a different time and need.
but deep down we all know that we've always been the same.
with the same eager blood. with the same eager flaws.
we push it away. so we can forget. out of sight. out of mind.
cause we're the ones who pay. while they just get paid.
and what's left when we're done? after collapsing from the flood.
when our greed outweighs our guilt. we watch our morals fail still.
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4. |
The Tide: I. flood
09:30
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fading lines etched in the sand.
washing away in the rising tide.
frantically we carve deeper down.
but they turn to trenches and flood us out.
and faintly you can hear us gasping. our stomachs in our throats.
panic and paralysis. we stiffen and succumb.
yearning for our dose in chalices of gold.
numb tongues never spit it out. smiling as we choke.
then the waves of the void slowly erode our eyes.
until all we see is the hollow in our hearts.
with no sound but the beating in our chests.
hypnotic and destructive. radiating through and through.
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5. |
The Tide: II. dust
06:17
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all we know is the flame and the way that it holds.
so we hold it together. like sand slipping from our fingers.
an hourglass losing time. slowly buried at the bottom.
and we can taste the dirt. forcing us to swallow.
and we inhale the dust. making us choke.
there is no escape. here is forever.
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6. |
The Tide: III. cinder
08:38
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an ocean of blackened soot. crashing as it devours.
the eternal current of fire. burning us down to molten flesh.
we crawl through the ashes. pulsating like the tide.
a fate we have dreamt of. engraved in our minds.
this is the end we’ve been waiting for.
with all our empty words lingering in the air.
our false hopes and ambitions breeding our failures.
until it can’t be denied.
we are the end.
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Burials Portland, Oregon
just some scruffy lookin dudes from Portland giving themselves a collective headache made out of riffs.
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