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Barbaric

from The New Gospel by Haunt

/

lyrics

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.

credits

from The New Gospel, released October 28, 2014

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Haunt Baltimore, Maryland

melancholy cult

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