1. |
Potential Harm
07:04
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Stress consumes me
Can't think at all
Lost cause is me
Surging with panic
Overtaking dread
Strain, strain
No soul, purpose
Hurrying, worrying
I'm a paranoid live wire
Don't fucking touch me
This plane is going down
And it will never hit the ground
Nervous energy coursing through my veins
Please help me end this pain
I have nothing to offer this world
A tightly wound bundle of nerves
No more, nothing more
Help me, I'm panicking
My existence terrifies me
Am I who I see?
My safety is a lie
I am trapped here
Wholly undeserving of this life
A gift to be discarded and forgotten
I am purely disappointment personified
I live in a state of exhaustion
Why?
What we perceive is guided hatred of circumstance
when we believe that control should be left to the oppressor
Power is an illusion made to contort the form into marketing
They want you pacing the floors in a prison screaming "I am free!"
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2. |
Denial
03:29
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Degradation penetrating the minds of people left to die
Suppression of anguish experienced to pacify dissent
Tallowed throats
Comfortability ruling
Excused regression
Humble guise
What needs to be said?
Organized but underimagined
Petty social construction feeding the cauldron
Hindrance of all progress seems to be
Unanimous to the wheel of influence
Dark days suffocate
They're preying on culture
Numb to suffering
We know it to be true
Deny the self
This is man's shame
All flesh made the same
All deserving dignity
Of striving, thriving
This is a warning
For those complacent, for those submissed
Identity is sacred
This is the fight
For the voiceless
It's us or them
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3. |
Hateful Reprise
05:50
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Gaze upon this monolith forseen in stories retold
By our failures of compassion
We seek shelter, yet still remain
Burn it down this monolith, this monolith
The salt of the Earth runs dry in the sun
Radical integrity?
Absolute reality
There is no curse
This is will
Decency in repulsion
How even water can die
Chip the stone of this monolith
The destroyer, unemotional
How it flourishes but to expiration
Entropy by artificiality
This is the one reality
Sweeping hand of agony
Our gaze forever tightening
And from the blood of our palms
The destroyer become death
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Pallor Asheville, North Carolina
Drum and bass.
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