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I’m crawling though human waste. In my mouth—on my tongue I can taste—all the bad choices, fear-based. Guilt and shame, red-faced. Every step, a slog, in haste… in haste. We think we keep the closets clean. And I know you know what I mean. The skeletons are there, but rarely seen. It doesn’t change the bloody scene. I count one, in the dark, cowering from the sun. I count two, huddled tight, still afraid of you. Three, a family, that used to be. Another four, maybe more, you’ve locked behind this door. I’m crawling though human waste. In my mouth—on my tongue I can taste—bad choices, fear-based. Guilt and shame, red-faced. Every step, a slog, in haste. Bodies pile, vile, soaked in bile. And, all the while, we file them away with a smile… mile after mile, we’re not on trial. We’ve escaped our trial. We’ve escaped our trial. We’ve escaped our trial. We’ve escaped our trial while the bodies pile. The lives we destroy, we’ll pile with a smile… oh!
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Speaking in tongue, even so young. Burning your lungs and crazed while traversing life… without a choice. Hiding your voice while you rejoice… forced to, under the knife. You’re crazed while traversing life. You’re forced to, under their knife. Welcome my dear, it’s the life in this flock, you shall grow to fear. Throughout these years, water is scarce here, you’ll be drinking your tears… oh yeah. Drinking your tears, oh yeah. Speaking in tongue, even so young. Burning your lungs and crazed while traversing life… without a choice. Hiding your voice while you rejoice… forced to, under the knife. You’re crazed while traversing life. You’re forced to, under the knife. There’s no escape from this dark shape. An ever-expanding cloud, this herd in a death shroud. There’s no escape from taking on our shape. So, quiet yourself now. On your knees to bow. Question, not, on how to take back your vow. “Join or die?”, we said. With signature, you bled. Bound, so never fled. Ours until you’re dead… oh, dead. Oh. “To join or die?”, we said. And, with signature, you bled… until the end. We have you until the end. The. End.
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3. |
Uphill Both Ways
03:27
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Every day… “It’s uphill, both ways”. That’s what our forefathers, they would say, “You’ve got it easy, you’ve go it so easy”. And, I think they have a point to make, a few lessons we should take, we’re sleeping in and we need to wake up. Learning from our past, we think we know it all, if asked. Errors have amassed and time runs out, it shall not last. And, it goes so very fast. It shall not last, and it goes so fast. And, I think they have a point to make, a few lessons we should take, we’re sleeping in… we need to wake up. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
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Given the weight, and considering our fate, we could not coordinate or find a key to this gate. If only we chose love over hate—at this rate, human expiration date, comes sooner than late. But as humans, we ignore the terrible end that’s in store. We put on “a happy face, with chin up, and with grace”. “It’ll be fine, right? It’ll be fine, right… right? It’ll be fine?” Right! “It’ll be fine, right?” No, we’re doomed! We’ve been groomed to consume right from the womb. Oh, we are doomed, and we’ve been groomed… oh, to consume, right from the womb. The wave, it’s building, the wind, it’s building, the heat, it’s building, the famine…
it comes to all, the weak and the strong, and it’s our own damn fucking fault we could not get along. We could not get along… no. The wave, it’s building, the wind, it’s building, the heat, it’s building, because we were not willing, not willing. The wave, it’s building, the wind, it’s building, the heat, it’s building, because we were not willing.
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Oh, it’ll soon be my turn. Oh, I’ve been saving everything that can be burned. And, oh, this pile of life experience that I’ve learned. These feelings and emotions, now shared for you to learn… it’s not yet any of your concern. Oh, but it WILL BE! From the heat of this blaze, you’ll not be free. From the fire of a man, half crazed, no safety. From the heat of this blaze, you’ll not be free, even from the fire of a single man’s rage, no safety. You weren’t meant for this, and how could you be? From your throne on high, ignorant and carefree. The heat is rising, and the heat is rising. You’ve always been sheltered and no reason for woe. You’ve never truly sweltered or felt the burn of this glow… and, so it goes. A gust of fire now blows… a temperature rising from below, below, below! A heat rising and aimed, a plan to overthrow. Overthrow with an explosive manifesto, just so ya know… the heat is a-comin’. You weren’t meant for this, but how could you be? From your throne on high, ignorant. From your throne on high Ignorant.
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The seasons change, and with the chill, we’ll rearrange our separate lives… sundown and rise, the motion of husbands and their wives. A love between screens, feeding the couple’s eyes. Realize, with no surprise, these separate screens have become our lives. These separate screens, they have become our lives. How do we let these screens become our lives? It’s all we’ve got, as we agonize. Right before our eyes.
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The Lumbar Endeavor
Heavy sonic and visual offerings by musician/vocalist Aaron D.C. Edge (of Process Black, Hellvetika, Bible Black Tyrant, Ramprasad) and soundscape/field recorder + illustrator André Trindade (CVSPE).
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supported by 6 fans who also own “The Saints Take Flight”
This is wonderful. Great how you combine this music, integrated her voice. What an outstanding cooperation. Keep it up! I'll sure be looking ;)
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supported by 5 fans who also own “The Saints Take Flight”
Put your headphones, turn off the lights and meditate on the darkest sides of humanity.
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Featuring members of Noothgrush, Graves at Sea, and more, the Oakland metal band juxtapose cavernous doom with spaced-out shoegaze.
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Nov 10, 2023
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Oct 12, 2023
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supported by 5 fans who also own “The Saints Take Flight”
In ekstreme musiek sê die kunstenaars gereeld dat die musiek nie vir ‘n gehoor gemaak was nie, maar dit voel meestal soos ‘n vooraf verdediging om ongewildheid weg te verduidelik. Daarenteen is Mizmor se debuut oorlopend persoonlik van natuur met die eerste oordonderende noot al. Byna 70 minute van totale introspeksie, ‘n ondersoek van ALN se teleurstelling en pyn wat niks met enigiemand anders te doen het nie, en tog steeds universele emosies raak. Kragtig is nie eers amper die woord nie
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