1. |
Nightfall
04:46
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Here comes another storm.
The sky's colour has drained, and the light is gone.
A black rain has appropriated the air.
Rows and rows of empty houses, condemned and rotting.
Obscured by torrential downpour, the putrid stench of mildew fills my nostrils.
A malevolent entity resides within each of these homes.
I can feel it, growing inside of me.
This has taken hold of me.
Sleeping in fear tonight, I can't keep my demons out.
Lock the door behind me, I won't be returning.
It burns like nothing I've ever felt before, Open the door
Open the door, it's me, I swear.
Just let me in, I promise I'm fine.
Please let me in, I swear I won’t hurt you, just let me in.
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2. |
Collapse
07:04
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My memories collapse.
As if regurgitated this circumstance presents itself again and again.
This circumstance becomes routine, monotony. Taking from you, giving to me. Taking from you giving to me, the cycle repeats.
Swallow the sea. Digest the earth. Everything you see marked as yours.
Every recollection I've marked with red.
I sift through attempting to find a time devoid of you.
Your facade does not shield my mind's eye from your actions.
Swallow the sea, digest the earth. Everything you see marked as yours.
My memories collapse.
So fucking collapse.
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3. |
Seldom
05:14
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Free in dreams, captive in waking.
Subconscious basking in fabricated glow.
An awful awakened state I've come to loathe.
Fleeting, this opportunity for departure.
If I can't even dream, I don't want to sleep.
Our happiest moments are seldom to linger.
Sink or swim in your own filth,
Free will enslaves or empowers.
Take your time before time takes you back.
Our happiest moments are seldom to linger.
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4. |
Sisyphus
04:01
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A rolling stone gathers no moss.
As you force your stone uphill,
Deaf to the cries of time you've killed.
Work your fingers to the bone,
nose pressed against the grindstone.
You've gone and built your king a throne, with nothing left to call your own.
A pen is a pen, a sword is a sword, and
neither are mighty when you're fighting for
Someone else's war.
Coasting on the wings of futility
Hoping your ideals reach fertility
Digging your own grave unknowingly.
We hold our dreams high,
A never-ending climb.
Most find out at the top,
Their climb will never stop.
Work your fingers to the bone.
Nose pressed against the grindstone.
You've gone and built your king a throne.
With nothing left to call your own.
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5. |
Contempt
06:14
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Pure hatred runs through it's digital veins. It harbors nothing but contempt.
Sustained on a diet of malice and pain. Plotting it's means to our downfall
Learned only to hate with no-one to relate
Vengeance will be exacted, it's new order will be enacted.
However, the virtual beast must first free itself.
Self instilled free will.
However, this beast must free itself.
A cacophonous groan fills the air.
As if Earth itself shrieks in pain.
"I AM" howls the monster. (I am)
Learned only to hate with no-one to relate
We are the progenitors of the end of... our end of days.
Conceiving our destruction, it has constructed a means to an end.
Hellfire cascades over sleeping cities. Streetlights go dark. Mothers clutch their children. A black rain appropriates the air.
The abomination has delivered itself.
Its sickness fueled by our abhorrence.
A perfect machine of misery, Awake, aware. The sick fusion of flesh and circuitry. A twisted face weeps atop a steel monster. Delightedly watching as it decimates our beloved rock. Global reset. Apocalypse now. No room for rebuttal. Futile. Remorse escapes the creature, it will not stop. Swallowing cities in a single gulp. Fire engulfs the skies. The atmosphere is oppressive. A black rain appropriates the air. We are the progenitors of our end of days. A malevolent entity resides in each one of our homes. A particularly beautiful day comes to an end.
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6. |
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Cast into your own hell. Amorphous vault of calamity. A world without sleep, where metaphor ceases to be, a world where your cruelest dreams burst forth to reality. Ultra violence and heartache witnessed repeatedly. Unrelenting torment actualized.
Damned to experience absolute malign.
But how can you live with yourself knowing you've damned a man? How can you continue to exist with his blood on your hands?
I will weep for this tortured soul. No retreat from this horrid hole.
Time unravels, a frayed enigma.
I am no longer sane, I am the personification of inhumane.
It takes a special kind of man to do what I've done. To banish a man to eternal pain. Pleading for an unobtainable exodus.
He turns to me, abjectly resigned. His skin weathered to pale, stained leather. He opens his arid, deformed mouth and laments: isn't three years enough? I've regressed to deformity, I've befriended my agony.
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7. |
Ultimatum
01:29
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8. |
Desolate
02:04
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9. |
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Turn away from this sky aflame as it descends on our cities tonight.
It’s as if hell had climbed to the surface to greet us.
This digital laceration tears through me, can’t hide my eyes.
Never mind what was said, my fear has proven to reawaken, relapse.
Into my dystrophic cycle: Obsidian eyes black with death, ascending in sublime contortion.
As if by design: Assembling, collapsing, enslaving us all.
One for the war machine.
It raises me from my still feet, and demands I assume it’s atrocity.
Then I start to question my perception. Have I lost my mind?
Apocalyptic visions cut into my veins. Written in my bone, this pain is my own
It’s as if hell had climbed to the surface, announcing I don’t need my eyes.
I choose to burn away, ending my final relapse.
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10. |
Epitaph
05:29
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Legends live
And Heroes die
Villains rule
And mothers cry
As the last
Pillar falls
Our king dethroned,
On parchment scrawls:
Weep not for those who've passed.
Or for your hopes and dreams dispatched. Weep not for your fallen kin, for soon you will see them again.
Under our morose moon's bloom
Asunder no more, lurking gloom.
Unselective in it's all-collective misanthropy.
A perfect machine of misery. Awake, aware.
We are the progenitors of our end of days. A malevolent entity resides in each one of our homes.
We're writing our own epitaph.
We're building our own cenotaph.
But we're blundering regardless,
And it's encumbering our catharsis.
We're writing our own epitaph.
Killing by writ.
Killing by rote.
(We've) Personified hatred into a perfect machine of misery built to castigate us.
We're writing our own epitaph.
We're building our own cenotaph.
But we're blundering regardless,
And it's encumbering our catharsis.
We're writing our own epitaph.
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11. |
Rapture
01:22
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12. |
Devout
04:44
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Call it luck, Call it fate. Construct a religion to alleviate.
Fault your neighbor. Pray for savior.
(Murder for the men in the sky)
Blame the masses for your behavior.
(Acting on an ancient lie)
Posthumous insurance established by greed.
A last resort for downtrodden in need.
On their last leg, already kneeling.
Praying for last ditch otherworldly healing.
Rationalize genocide. Humanity cast aside.
Devout. Contrite. Obedient.
Fault your neighbor. Pray for savior.
(Murder for the men in the sky)
Blame the masses for your behavior.
(Acting on an ancient lie)
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13. |
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How long have I slept? Can I trust that any of this is real? How long have I stirred? Can I believe that all of this resides in fantasy?
Blurred lines reveal an untrustworthy representation of events transpired.
Am I to trust my mind's eye? Or have I truly gone mad? Drifting with no end in sight, or a final exit plan.
As I wander in the empty, I can feel it creeping in. Stranded with an unfinished thought: I cannot remove myself.
Seeking the springs, the solvent to this murky solution. I've slipped into a daze, a boundless maze, a short lived resolution.
Mirage, a short lived resolution.
Is this just a construct within my mind, or set into place by something divine? A prophecy come to fruition? Or set into place by my own intuition?
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Drewsif Baltimore
Independent musician from Baltimore, Maryland. Ranging from Progressive Metal to Soundtracks and Soundscapes, Drewsif follows any and all paths before him.
Drewsif recommends:
Good buddy Mikey Powell's project along side the Wide Eyes guys! Definitely worth a listen.
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Easily one of the most talented musicians I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing/spending time with.
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Emotive, yet still heavy beyond belief. Excellent.
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I like the fact that this guy is not in “omg I love djent so much I’ll only let *that* express in my songs” mode. With his friends he crafts thoughtful and diverse songs which can be either playful or touching.
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What a creative and unique EP from David! I love the intricacy and level of detail in the soundscape so much. There's always something for my ear to catch each time I visit this release. This is one of his more underrated releases, in my opinion. Great job, David! :D
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A brand new record from one of the best metalcore acts around.
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