The New Gospel

by Haunt

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1.
03:17
2.
03:04
3.
05:04
4.
03:22
5.
06:03
6.
04:04
7.
04:32
8.
04:18
9.
02:44
10.
01:48
11.
00:26
12.
05:23
13.
08:49

credits

released October 28, 2014

On this record -

Kish Kothe - Vocals
Brandon Nathaniel - Vocals
Jerrit DeCoursey - Guitar
Kelly Cook - Guitar / Backing Vocals / Keys
Zach Trees - Bass / Keys / Programming / Percussion
Ian Bell - Drums / Percussion

All lyrics written by Brandon Nathaniel
All music written and performed by Haunt

Engineered/Mixed/Mastered by: Will Beasley
Additional Vocal Engineering: Kelly Cook
Artwork by: Josh Zupovitz

Additional vocals on the album provided by: Allison Olender, Chelsea Tyler, Frank Grimes, Josh Seleski, and Monica Ashton.

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Haunt Baltimore, Maryland

melancholy cult

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Track Name: Marriage
Conjuration. A creeping crux. Conqueror of all things loved. In debt to the fever. Chest is crushed. A younger trust. Drenched in blue. Emotional cults. Prosthetic. Dead healers. I would trade my soul for any face that looked like yours, just to get lost in the blur.

Sworn to the king of insects. Illusion or characteristic? I could feel myself slipping further. Worshiping the antithesis. Every day is exactly the same when all you do is wait to die. Can you taste the death on my breath? Rigor mortis. Selfish. Still trying to crawl into you. Beast of burden. Injured learning. Windows covered. Rings unnerving. Brazen color. Frightened roach. Forbidden fruit. “You’ll die alone.”

Unfulfilled in brittle offerings. A dowry paid in pills. Miserable lessons in collapsing. I’ll take until it kills. I sold you for the stolen rage. A finite sense of structure. A place and time ingrained but never replicated or replaced. You were my Achilles heel in this world of wounds…

(she speaks) - “…and I wasted all my warmth on you”.
Track Name: Pain Junkie
Ugly and empty, I want you to hurt me. A permanent harness. The nesting pageantry. I slither from my place of hiding. Tagged and expired. I thought I heard your voice against the wire. Extracting marrow. Desperate tourniquet. Cancerous language. Pounding the floor again. Muscles bend and break. Appendages destroyed. Pressing each nerve in at needlepoint.

Sight migrates to the stains. Tear apart old love, new hate. Humiliated by the construct of “free”. You tie me to the post. Concrete, scraped knees. Name caller, clean the blade and continue to beat. Cruel goddess. I’m buried in prayer; I’m bound to your heat. Keep hitting me (please). The wraith, the fake, the whip, the chains. The skin on my back. The look on your face when I begged. “Young blood, does it have to stop?” Keep self-medicating. It doesn’t take the pain away.

Devotion tremble. Words lose safety. Ugly and empty, I need you to hurt me. Separate wreckage. Feral clandestine. A complex without crown. A myriad of domestic crime.
Track Name: Lachrymose
Irate. Violent fold. Self sacrifice, but it holds. Committed to recovery. I held in the cry. The senses grind. Hibernation or a fix in droves. Gauze removed, marooned. So you wait in the hole. And after fortune fades, what’s left to show? Scar tissue, twelve letters, and seizure prose. Four walls, melatonin, and our nostalgia tomes. Numbers like new religion. Punished sex. Bottled love. Bloodletting. The savage lust. The howl increased. Traditional crutch. Stability as a ruse. I never see anything but you. Does it sting like it used too? A cleaner cut, cloaked in loam. No different from the coral cover. Miscarried. A myth. The body at home.

I just wanted to be happy. But I am an island. The actor decayed. Vexed. Without name. Hideous features. Your pariah to blame. Invisible bandages to stop the bleeding. Amnesiac. Evergreen. Territorial angst. An immeasurable seam. Stomach revealed to be as empty as me. Another hoax to keep the incision clean. “You’re starving yourself. Is the hunger deep?” I’d do anything for my miracle vaccine.

(Selfish euphoria)
Wishful thinking in the backyard. Dead weight, wading in the water. Imagined that we had a daughter, and I loved her just as much as I love you. Ritual mutilation doesn’t bring the feeling back. And as she melts in hues of yellow, I’m still shackled to the black. I carved her name into my skin. A glimpse of peace through crystal visions. I swear it never leaves, but am I more than just a prison? A driftwood beggar. The homeless daze. Circle and return. My gossamer phase. Bore witness to heathenism. Thaw. The promise of hesitation. Beg at the feet of the one you love the most. It will never be enough.

--
Does it sting like it used too? A cleaner cut, cloaked in loam. No different from the coral cover. Miscarried. A myth. The body at home. I just wanted to be happy. Come quickly cold dagger. Song turned to hum. Knew it wouldn’t make the difference. All your skin. Loveless image. Rolling blackout. The vermilion lung.
Track Name: Harrow
Backwoods opiate. Splitting deliverance. A witch hunt lexicon. Hierophantic stomp and stagger. Bred in a basement. Faux fathoms, phantasm. A coat of what you carry on. All for naught. Base is bludgeoned. Grinding of the pinion. Blessing of the slug.

Still, I accept the convenience of heaven. Making bone payments on pavement for a moment longer unheard. Soapbox preaching the avalanche. Staying docile in gross paranoia. The fiction shield renders you loyal. Hooded figures ruining “your love”. Chambered bellow. Soft devils. The way you live your life is disgusting.

Amnesia prophet moves through mud. Caught in the power of plight. Bought again. Tourist baptism. Did their eyes keep spinning on the day that you were given?

No nails. Holy terror. Bushcraft. Iron trap. Safe spell. Out of measure. Torch anthem. Hymnal clap. Pig for pig. Sacrilege under the roof of gnawing swine. In a room full of ex-believers: the first to cry foul, the last outlined. I hammered god to the ground.
Track Name: Barbaric
Swift ligature. Always emptying pockets in regards to labors and drought. Unprotected from the street breaker. The engine coughs lesions and sawdust; no clout. Just another creature of habit. Just another mark on my arm. Just another counterfeit collective. What about the deterioration?

Imperfect death dealer, does your hand keep steady? Mine never could or rather, it wasn’t ready. In my youth I wanted to kill. Intimately, prints uncovered. They’d understand just how I feel. Ruined names on scraps of paper. What’s another decade in the pack? Fools disown. Running with the pawn and the rat. I alone.

A belligerent rendition of the death knell. It takes a certain kind of monster to isolate the bells. Nothing between boy and routine. Painted in threes. Drowning machine. Drag your axe across the floor. I’ve got a bone to pick with broken doors. Hard to say I heard a voice. Or that the voices grew in sevens. Hard to speak a truth for once. Liar lord with claws and talons. The realist rejects the figure. But I saw. It drew my anger.

When it’s locked. Lost sight. Lurking hazy. Bleached white. Panicked frenzy. I used to know you by a different name. Cut from photographs. Magenta again. Film held to heat. Stones arranged by notation. The movement is mirrored. And now the body regains rotation. Was it the scaling dread or the plastered mess? Bring me the arm that stays straight through the violence. Imperfect death dealer. Outlandish guidance. Did you speak for me? Poorest doom and gloom rode in on a horse. Bottles instead of flowers, given to blinders. Wasn’t that evil? I am pure evil.

The fear that you feel isn’t real at all its just the medication wearing off. Always pressing the flame. Always the native bug. Found its passage through pores. Giving birth to its spawn. Horned helmets plead fracture. There’s nowhere to run. Such a disappointment. Not the favorable son. So I’ll empty my pockets of what I am and what I am not.
Track Name: Unlearn
Intoxicated. My hostage antics. Smile, abandon. Sour symptoms. Post-love regiment. The trouble with disappearing. The season of removal. An imposter apparition. Botched pedestal. Distance now. The deluge, hoarding. Unsorted. Phantom limbs. Behavior in the beginning. Replacement diction. Artificial lament. Romanticizing wax.

The same circular habits. Sidetracked addict. How dare you ask if I’m wrong? I couldn’t be that strong. And when you said, “it’ll always be gone”, did I expect a different line to be drawn? I guess so. There’s no need to move on.

Bliss void. Narrowing sun. I remember the waves conducting reverie. Saltwater tryst. A rite of passage. Regress memory. Soldier of squalor. Plagued existence, sway your interest. Kingdom. Noise falter. Completely powerless.

“Did you act on your own again? Short of mind. Run and hide. Child I once knew, dragging sticks along the fence.”

I’ve got holes in my head. Coward flesh. Fever slows like lead. A parade of all the things that you said. Selective hours remain incorrect.
Track Name: Smother
Had you hoped the cave collapsed? The age of hunting soon to end. The barricade of oak forgiven. A shredded note you’d never send. Gave yourself to wilderness. A house of quiet, a place to mend. Incantations. Muted colors. The minutes twist until they blend.

But it scares me. Terrified in passing. The well runs dry. Lovesick, but holding out on charity for the fortress lie. I’ve made plans to burn the boxes. Brittle pieces hidden up high. Sunflowers hemmed. Destroy the stems. A pathetic need. I fantasize.

No harbinger. No exit. Spoke of withering and the direction. Bittersweet. Shaking shelter. Vision is weak. Marathon desire. You left the jar empty. Just like me. I’m burnt out at both my ends. “Unconditional”.

Another January cold. Another birthday all alone. For years I’ve known no place that’s home. Spiral violet. Lucky roam. Tapping starts. The eyes abhor. Play my part. Writhe on the floor. A broken child that’s past restore. And yet it seems I’m failing. Once again I’m not containing. All the cycles keep me faking. Face cratered from the restraining. Ten pills to help me sleep at night. Another five ‘cause I’m not feeling right. The pictures in my head compile. Now forty pills on the bathroom tile, along with all the blood in my throat from puking what I eat to never grow. The side effects keeping me low. Losing my soul. Never have a lover. Never have a wife. Always lacking bravery to unsheathe the knife. I’m sinking. Beneath breathing. Agony and strife. Is this the year I end my life?

I just want it to stop.
Track Name: Guts
Carnivorous. Plastic bag vernacular. Pressured vowels, wounded verse. Fleeting sense. Makeshift hearse. Resuscitating only for another round. I put the mask on. Pulling threads, feeding the hound. But now I, chemical imbalance - give light, a release. Total penance.

Enemy. Weeping beast held in harms reach. Trauma through speech. I make myself sick, gathering. Gored. Give him to Gehenna. Bored with swords. Leave him in the gutter. Sharp kiss. Tribute bliss. The order of torture. The prince of piss. Bed caught fire. I’ve lost sleep. How the years have been violent to me. Tarred and feathered. Left for meat. How the years have been violent to me. So I return in form. Reciprocate the punishment and burn the abusers. Karma clenched. Tooth decay. Throats out, poisoned, force-feeding.

I’ll crush the thief. Spine as an offering. Heartless, receding. No one will grieve. Frame as an ashtray. Hooks sink, never healing. Savior must be proud of you. What a joke. Mongrel choking on his pride. I misspoke. I decide who lives. I decide who dies. Strings instead. Further towards the sound. Soundless tomb. Pacing until dead. I just want to feel, feel like I could hurt without consequence.

A curse upon your loved ones. A hex upon your house.
Track Name: Virgin
I’ve got a fetish for the years long gone. Agonizing over moments left untouched by the grey. An inanimate object of your affections. There is no love left to make.
Track Name: Trachea
I wore the rags as a reminder. Garbage collecting for funeral trash. Eight pieces laid out in chronological order. The cause of death marred and manipulated. I tread heavy on the two’s and ten’s. The chair of choice unstable but then again my mind melts at a slower pace till I forget my name, I forget my place.

Grab the rope that you forgot. Praise the fiber, thank the knot. Kiss the river. Coiled wrought. Quicksand phantom. Body fought. Conduit cut in narrative. Paper dyed for appearances. Jaw line severed or did you care? But it doesn’t really matter when I’m hanging from the ceiling. There’s no cure for depression trends. I give up. I don’t hope. I just let it end. Was it the noose culture vignette that made everyone realize they’re better off dead? This is possession through the garden roads. No one to guard you from the bitter cold. Did your tongue run dry when the wounds got old? I won’t pretend to lick the salt from your palms.

Now I’m beating my head against the wall of gods. Manic, I walk. Fortunate moth. “Cut it out”. Cornered currents. Damaged roses. Worn feathers quell, perched for the thrill. Call rings again. “Please stop the kick”. It's you I’m afraid of. Shadows unstitched.
Track Name: Drug Queen
My matriarch in bloom. I found your petals pressed in a book. I burned between the ink. Held together with fabric and canvas. I’m not the only one burning the balance. I made a wreath out of cigarettes. Woven, sewn to the door, presenting regrets.

Feeling is foreign, pretender.

I will continue to disappoint you. Spitting image of a vertebrae. Couldn’t notice. Always dust on the pages. Fixated. I need to stay. Head at the bottom of a bucket, I’m breaking. Cuckolded. Vessel is left empty. As if it wasn’t already clear.

(to every friend I’ve ever had) I know the drugs are more important than me.

As is your freedom. Slave master slit his wrists so you wouldn’t have to keep him around. Liberate your love, leave it dead on the ground. I want out. Jagged surroundings. Jail cell. Bruising mentality. Loss architecture. False grand finale. A family heirloom, the underbelly.

“I’ve stopped caring about your journey to enlightenment or giving the fix. You were the decomposing. The missing day. The bones beneath my feet. And all the reasons that you couldn’t stay don’t mean a thing to me. Couldn’t care about what’s inside or that it doesn’t heal for the longest time. Self-inflicted, your swan psalm fading out. Mood molded for a human shield. Now there’s no point in keeping you.”

As summer unhinges. On vengeance binges. And if I’m honest, then I’m a bastard. Faith is forged. Talk is cheap. Oh, it must feel so good. I know it should.

Smoke me out. Lungs engulfed. But that’s the fucking price of love. Addictions run clean and you’ve no further use for me.
Track Name: Chateau D'if
One thousand years. Old man at the top of the hill, with his things neatly packed away. Still in mourning. And I don’t open the windows. And I don’t open the front door. For the kids who holler and scare. A claim to know me. Not anymore. But one day, the grin seeks. Mobs, with hands ready to do the lords work. Fingers twitching.

You’ve got six seconds to interrupt right between the teeth or just give it up. Old man at the top of the hill wants to cut. But all his blades are dull. Never sharp enough. Heretic, dragged across the coals. Heretic, littered with arrows. Vicious as they come. No pity from the young. Buried alive. I’m out of time. Sacrosanct. Sarcophagus. Warlord, captured. Salting cold earth. Bloodlines to burn. Lined up by worth. Shallow born. Womb fled. Razor torn. Never wed. There is no sound that can emit from the pillar of brick.

At the top in shambles, I beg for death to come quick. But death, oh dearest death, he never comes. He just quits. Crafted me a new set of shackles and said “good luck kid”. I am sorry for everything. I never wanted to live this way. I never wanted to be unclean, angry or depressed; muzzled by anxiety. A head plague by its maiden name. Mother’s blood. Misplaced bane. And now you say that I am still the same. But believe me, how I wanted to change.

Prisoner posture. Insomniac blues. Isolation aches and the fear of you. I thought it would help if I heard the truth. Internal rot. Divorcing hues.

In a past life, I boarded up the house I built for you, and killed myself inside. You don’t get to drift off to death. You will never see her again. Never granted the glory. Never given to ghosts.

“I’ll always love you.” A lobotomy plea. Eternally demystified. Skull hollowed out.