1. |
Hands
03:17
|
|
||
|
Bloody creatures, baggage’s of flesh.
Nimble stags, storms cloud over.
Rain falls under the clashing rage.
No strikes in our hands
the spices of human pleasures.
No spikes in our hands
blood root- swallowed.
Where we live clocks catch fire.
Plumes surround the brightness in the sky.
Distant sulphur, morning summer breeze.
No strikes in our hands
the spices of human pleasures.
No spikes in our hands
blood root- swallowed.
Dead caresses, departed with the waves.
Bloody creatures, baggage’s of flesh.
Nimble stags, storms cloud over.
Rain falls under the clashing rage.
Taste the fire, wolves licking hills of salt.
|
||||
2. |
Mirrors
03:41
|
|
||
|
Self exclusion, braces of collective thought.
Throw your arms, our fingers pointing at the sky.
We take off into the cosmos, ready for anything:
Solitude, hardship, exhaustion, death.
Modesty forbids us to say so,
but there are times when we think pretty well of ourselves.
And yet, if we examine it more closely,
our enthusiasm turns out to be all sham.
We don't want to conquer the cosmos,
we simply want to extend the boundaries of Earth.
A leap of faith, knights of the human race.
Anthropocentric, and the sky closes in.
Smile again, our lies reflected in the skies.
We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors.
|
||||
3. |
Voices
03:16
|
|
||
|
You shall have centuries of sleep,
but you must not sleep now,
for I have seen deep meadows,
fire flowers flaming tall and strange
above the brilliant grass.
I will sing that song to you, and you shall write it down.
I have toiled for you for years,
give me now but one night's rest, for I am weary.
You are free, you know.
Now I can rest.
Dream after dream that soul related as he sat there by the window.
He told of tropical forests seen by unhappy men,
forests made suddenly wondrous by the song of some passing bird flying.
He heard old voices.
|
||||
4. |
Sorrows
05:22
|
|
||
|
Distant dread and death.
As others were, I have not seen.
As others saw, I could not bring.
My sorrow, I could not awaken.
My heart to joy at the same tone,
and all I loved, I loved alone
From the sun that around me rolled,
in its autumn tint of spoil.
The mystery which binds me still.
From the torrent, or the fountain,
from the red cliff of the mountain.
Distant dread, it’s yours.
Distant dread of old.
From the lightning in the sky,
from the thunder, and the storm.
And the cloud that took the form
(when the rest of heaven was blue)
of a demon in my view.
My sorrow, I could not awaken.
My heart to joy at the same tone,
and all I loved, I loved alone.
|
||||
5. |
Anesthetics
03:03
|
|
||
|
My body hates me.
Scissors and anesthetic.
Cut and burn.
Sealed with teeth.
Sinking into a negative sky.
Blurred visions overload.
Suture the head of this inner city.
Cauterize.
Carve poetry
on my neck.
A cervical fetish.
A medical nightmare.
Silence within silence.
A void inside a void.
|
||||
6. |
Games
04:24
|
|
||
|
Wet dreams and blisters.
We know how love works.
Hands washing hands
until bone is exposed
Molecular bondage.
Ectoplasmic servitude.
Metaphysical choking.
Internal organs lashed out.
Human astray, crawl to me
and show me your scalpel smile.
Snake-like trance, a poisonous climax.
I gain no power from this blood
but it's such a mesmerizing taste.
I've become a blue-tongued saint,
a static martyr and the blueprint of
a new skeleton.
Lick the arrow,
cold metal candy down your throat.
Drink from our wounds,
my knees will be your playground.
And it should hurt, so open wide.
The ever mutant nature of our lust.
|
||||
7. |
Priests
02:55
|
|
||
|
They made signs in blood
along the way that they went,
and their folly taught them
that the truth is proved by blood.
But blood is the worst
of all testimonies to the truth;
blood poisons even the purest teachings
and turns it into madness
and hatred in the heart.
And when one goes through fire
for his teaching,
what do that prove?
Verily, it is more
when one’s teaching
comes out of one’s own burning.
Burning priests.
Priests burning.
|
||||
8. |
Lies
05:41
|
|
||
|
I thought that was a kiss
but you were just bleeding in my mouth.
Saints are blank pages
and sooner or later we all confess.
I tried to leave an empty room for you
but I'm too weak to say goodbye.
Resent, quit, paralyze.
Free of will, a slave to myself.
And of course I might be wrong
and that could be the reason why
it gets so lonely
down here.
|
||||
9. |
Choices
03:59
|
|
||
|
The irony of failing for so long.
You actually become good at it.
She says you take it in like a pro,
unaware that your insides are made of void.
I came for the head-on collision,
but I stayed for the quiet before the storm.
I bet you regret all of your decisions,
but you gotta play soft if you like it rough.
Shut me up with a kiss from down below.
You know what I like and I know how far you can go.
Be a drug, be a noise.
Be the thought behind a voice.
Be the punishment, be the source.
Be the reason behind every wrong choice.
I can see what you're after.
You're a slave without a master.
I'm only gonna ask you once.
Is this what you asked for?
Don't answer.
Sh!, I said don't answer.
|
||||
10. |
Confessions
02:56
|
|
||
|
Waste.
The plot is gone to hell.
Trying so hard to cut through the smell of god.
Drunk on regret and 4 A.M. poetry.
A mouthful of the night before.
Legs frozen from thinking too much.
And what about you?
And what about us?
Take one, give one, resign.
And then everything becomes so unclear.
Silent like an engine running.
Touch the streets like a ghost.
This leads to nowhere.
Again and again.
Save us from one last bad song.
|
||||
Zann's Music Buenos Aires, Argentina
Free Independent record label - Independent record reviews.
You can download everything for free here or in our offical web page:
Zann's Music recommends:
New wave of dissonace and blasting extreme metal from Argentina.
go to album
Desidia de la Humanidad
by Desidia
Dark, extreme Sludge-Crust.
go to album
SUTRAH / STILTE SPLIT
by stilte
Stilte and Sutrah team up for this monumental ode to the riff and distortion.
go to albumIf you like Lies, you may also like:
Four new rowdy, impossibly catchy songs from this post-punk group who bridge rough-edged New Zealand-style pop with darker, steelier sounds.
go to album
White Suns return with another album full of static, chaos, and noise.
go to album
The mix of shoegaze, punk, and noise from this Seattle band is notable for its urgency and bright, foregrounded vocals.
go to album
