Small and shrinking,
Space stretching
Answers lost to the inquest of being
A simple pine crate packed with flesh
Slips into the fold
of earthen ease
No panic to halt
Just soils entice
Not black,
Just enclosures sealed with grey.
Searching for a reason to satisfy our suffering
Life’s a burden felt
Now in full retreat
Locks and weights
Adorning (me)
Bite chew
Sacred skin
Blind follow
Sky dim
Sip swallow
Mistaken blood
Eyes narrow
False son
Not black
Just concealed in grey
Subsuming a truth.
Locks and weights
Falsify consciousness
Dead sun.
Cast in insufferable light
Cast inside a machine
Such hollow bitter passengers
Holding out for your breath
Eyes of glass, locking heat
Now released from your sight
Or of what was perceived.
Leaving here by myself
Drowning myself at sea.
supported by 4 fans who also own “Euth-No Catafalques”
Quite possibly the most full-on album I've ever listened to. Intense, and then some. 'Digital Tarpit' could describe both the track and the whole album: high-pitched guitar squeals that make your fillings itch coupled with merciless, suffocating heaviness. The Avenell-esque vocals top it off perfectly.
Brilliant - punishing, but brilliant. jim_fuego