1. |
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how long would it take to forget
the smell of concrete the cold touch of glass
the sound of our machines bleeding black?
could we start over and forget?
we are here though we've never asked it
forced into shapes we just won't fit
socialized to continue failing master plans
no god will show the way under an empty sky
it's time to relearn to live
and to let all traditions die
it's useless to deny, we're all animals inside
we're neither masters, nor "the crown"
no god will show the way under an empty sky
it's time to relearn to live
and let all traditions die
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2. |
a long story short
01:44
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the air gets colder every night, the blood strem slows down.
the wind brings us evil lullabies. they're like blingfold on your eyes.
no, you won't notice any of this. the more numb you are the less hell-bent you fight.
but i'm seeing red to witness one more friend going down as sweet-flavoured words penetrate your mind.
it's midnight again - time to reject your dreams and embrace some nightmares.
and though this won't be the end with break of the dawn the darkness will remain.
so please stay awake.
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3. |
my favourite chords
01:17
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bury the dead, make room for the living! shovels dance in tired hands to the sound of singing: "we don't need history to define our purpose or identity".
bury the dead. make room for the living. look ahead because that is where your path will take you.
these simple chords will make a mighty fine anthem, the heat of burning flags will warm our tired hands.
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4. |
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holy shit, you've ruined all that fell between your hands.
by the book it was all yours... what a bunch of crap!
you'd be better off if there's no god above.
he would send you straight to hell where you belong for the ruined earth, witches burnt, children raped... the holy love you preach about somehow always breeds more crappy lies and fucking hate.
holy fuck you're full of shit. the pedestal falls apart. through the cracks it's clear to see that soon you will be gone.
too bad it won't bee soon enough you fuck.
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5. |
too cold to rain
01:37
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no conclusions, just the mess we've made.
the rust has awaken under the paint. not willing to change, only willing to hope. waiting for a miracle from above.
but it's too cold to rain, tonight it won't get washed away: a chance to go on with our pretty lives to make, to swallow more petty lies. vakuum in the head, glass in the mouth, dark clouds ahead, and hostile wind from south.
but it's too cold to rain.
we ejaculate permanent apocalypse. this nonsense is our legacy.
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6. |
icarus
01:49
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open your wings and head for the sung to unlearn the depths. for it is better to fail and to fall back like rain from the sky than to die without trying.
you'd better hurry up or time will pass you by and dead bones are all it leaves behind. life leakes faster than you'd think.
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7. |
suicide pills
02:40
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...is all i can think of to say with this battered voice of mine, through layers of shallow everydays.
Radio Lullaby- it haunts me every day but i do my best to keep me form listening. it stuns, it lulls, it kills, if you listen long enough it makes you take their suicide pills.
day by day slowly getting buried under broken promises we've made to ourselves. will we break them all?
there's a point in everyone's life when it seems easier to let go then to fight. arms seem too short to reach, walls sem too thick to breach.
that's the point where i am right now.
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New Dead Project recommends:
A Dudva Visszatér II.
by Gazprom
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Sinister Feeling
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This Is All We Ever Get
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Knockout debut from a Buffalo, New York-based hardcore band who like their riffs sick, their drums fast, and their choruses sticky-sweet.
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Escape From New York
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