1. |
The Primordial
02:49
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2. |
The Origin
07:53
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Framed relativity of simultaneity; suppose the opposites attract? To be canonized, digitized, sequestered and desist; the mounting aroma of quietus in the halls, impressment of bodies in the beds, filing their lives to be systemized; as he awakens, he begins to materialize into the atmosphere where his dance turned into riot. Sirens, floodlights; an escape tonight….His flesh they’ll beat upon as he sublimates unsung and his eyes are filling up with red. His death, a completion, as his victory has just begun as his eyes are dancing with the dead.
The institution dreads the consequences of absconded patients. He won’t look back now, the question blooms where he couldn’t dignify their fucking answers. Cultural duress, yet he has begun where he can’t be won…. His flesh they’ll beat upon as he sublimates unsung and his eyes are filling up with red. His death, a completion, and his victory has just begun as his eyes are dancing with the dead.
Where the four walls he faced, padded and diffident, strained his social structure behind every word they said. He plans his great escape, careful, insidious, whether they understand; no, they would not understand his insanity for dissent.
No, they will not understand!
His flesh they’ll beat upon as he sublimates unsung and his eyes are filling up with red. His death, a completion, as his victory has just begun for his eyes are dancing with the dead.
His flesh they’ll beat upon, there is no other one, as his eyes are filling up with red. Yes, his eyes are filling up with red.
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3. |
The Protagonist
04:17
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So the bricks were laid, he was getting out, yet still so manic-filled he had lost his mind and subsequent hysteria. “So is this all real too; conjectured? Life: to a panic that I can’t prescribe to a controlled end?” He was reaching in so he could reach out amongst the ruse of feral synaptic. They figured out in his tepid state, the myriad bouts that inundated and flooded his mind; asceticism, euphoria. And as he revealed his committed routes and the gates that he had left behind; a blessed, cursed man.
His mortal fear is a face his eyes rest upon beneath the surface. The refractions illuminate his rights to wrongs which extract a purpose for his revenge.
She was growing still with her birth to sin. The architects who sculpted and molded his profile will famously begin to recreate a new work of a man who considered his life dead without her. Will she recover from her wounds? So is this all real too; conjectured? Life: to a panic that he can’t prescribe to a controlled end?
So who’s the fool to be slaves under demigods? Does this make sense? A sadistic proposition will procure a beloved lament as he said, “If this is so real tonight, please someone send sunlight! If you’re so real and alive, why can’t I wake up?” He’s grown weary and he’s grown quiet now. When he’s pushed to the brink it brings him to the edge.
Something beyond this foreign eye, his sight; life springs to light, yet his inability for reason he can’t modify the colors that are in his sight. He was sent to die for the necessity to expose his alluring end.
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4. |
The Consummate
05:30
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“They met with lustful eyes of passion”, the written letter said. [They tell me] They tell us when we need to choose love. It’s as if we never met. [They tell me] They tell us when we’re soldiers, they’ll sell our end.
So don’t lie, we’ve got tonight, we cannot be too still cuz it’s so wrong. It’s so wrong.
She’s gone away cuz I can’t see her. This room has set the rage and I will burn here. It hurts so much as my heart’s growing still. How can I go on? Moonlight for the kill.
Eviscerated and dismembered, the brain begins to bend. [They tell me] They tell us our daily agendas, but she doesn’t make the list. [They tell me] They tell us will disappear, we’ll see who’s left.
Don’t hide, there’s much tonight, the revolution swells. Is it so wrong, so wrong?
She’s gone away cuz I can’t see her. This room has set the rage and I will burn here. It hurts so much as my heart’s growing still. How can I go on? Moonlight for the kill.
Say that I could wrap my arms gently around, so tight. Could this happen within these walls?
They vacuumed the ideas that transcribed the autonomy of change that would disrupt their ties. In the Garden of Gethsemane, the beauty hid the serpents endearing temptation. Now it’s up to them.
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5. |
The Inane & Assiduous
00:33
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6. |
(Through) The Vineyards
06:05
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An incarnate sentient being, she disguised her suffering as blameless. Can she shift amongst the nameless? And her covers blowing quickly, they will suspect the nature of her trade. Punishment is death. She won’t go across the line and bury herself.
So maybe she’ll feel the pain that he brings on, maybe she’ll love him back. The moment she feels the pain that he brings on, the moment she loves him back. Her motive, her will is the strength she builds on to witness the reversal of phenomena. He’s restored and recovered, as she mourns the other side.
Control, complacent, and complicity; the defining characteristics of (her), can she risk for what’s at stake here? While the people sit and laugh, she can sense the pain that lingers in the camp. Death is in the end. She won’t go across the line and bury herself.
So maybe she’ll feel the pain that he brings on, maybe she’ll love him back. The moment she feels the pain that he brings on, the moment she loves him back. Her motive, her will is the strength she builds on to witness the reversal of phenomena. He’s restored and recovered, as she mourns the other side.
A period placed in division and a foolish leader of visceral shame; the knowledge is written by the pen in his hand. And nothing is clear in the night. It’s really adding up in time. The fallen weakened system has finally measured up this time.
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7. |
The Edict in Nature
01:29
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8. |
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Kingdoms were torn down only to reveal the malevolent creation and intelligence of autonomy and aplomb. They were swiftly discovered by the new regime. They fled to rid themselves from a government that cried, “Fuck Humanity” to justify a greater evil inside.
So as the devil sets his eyes upon this mortality, they became a vicious senseless act of violence. As the revolution wanes, (so won’t you take me) the anthem chorus dissipates (to this place where they remain); impacts their worlds, impacts their lives to remain silent.
Beset by this ghost town, echoed solemn wiles, and defect the remains of a common creature that mutated the mind, so now inside he’s cold and she feels unknown. And so the more they think the more their disillusion to be caught between the mental fabric ruse and disconnecting lies.
So as the devil sets his eyes upon this mortality, they became a vicious senseless act of violence. As the revolution wanes,(so won’t you take me) the anthem chorus dissipates; (to this place where they remain) impacts their world and impacts their lives to remain silent.
A modest gesture received… an esoteric hymn. She’s overwhelmed by haunting words that she can’t remember when that the night he had sworn to her that they’d come out of this alive. So by now he’s met his fate and he’s staring deep within the silhouette the darkest shadow which spares no life to live. Tonight he’s feeling taken and he can’t wake up his mind. The devil said, “Rest assured your world will shatter”.
This will not be how she will die. He’s trapped between the innocent crimes of fact and fiction. For this treason he had recognized she lain on the altar as a sacrifice for the devil’s taking.
So as the devil sets his eyes upon our mortality, aren’t they just a simple act towards their providence. As the revolution wanes, the anthem chorus dissipates, impacts their world, and impacts their lives to remain silent.
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9. |
The Suicide
06:55
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Beneath the mountain, her still life falls at his feet, he’s conscious, without thought, and completely without love. Under the satellite and basking in the twilight, he finds he’s not alone, a movement catches his eyes. He sees the Great Bear caught in the sky.
And as the moon eclipses the northern sky, he grieves with sorrow through the hollow substance of duality. He sinks to the darkest depth into his mind to pave with a harrow, a distant narrow road to find the proof.
Inside this nightmare, the quiet becomes instinct, detecting violent worlds, incipient to his guise; he’s under complete repair to shadow his light.
And as the moon eclipses the northern sky, he grieves with sorrow through the hollow substance of duality. He sinks to the darkest depth into his mind to pave with a harrow, a distant narrow road to find the proof. He thinks without use, “So now that the moon is gone, I’ve just arrived. This beautiful world will now forsake us. Let’s give in now, and rest your heavy head”.
And as the moon eclipses the northern sky, he grieves with sorrow through the hollow substance of duality. He sinks to the darkest depth into his mind, “She can’t be dead without me”
And as the moon eclipses the northern sky, he sinks to the darkest depth into his mind
He’ll decide whether he can’t have her. Set for death and disaster, ashes placed as he will not scatter her.
He will not scatter her.
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Londons Falling San Diego, California
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