1. |
The Poet's Apologia
09:49
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We enter this world
Carrying the decaying carcass
Of our own existence
An empty enveloppe
That must be dragued
Along our way
As the condemned poet
Writes his own apologia
In a desperate gesture
To be relieved
To break
Oneself
Free from
These shackles
And as time flows
Burden only grows
The never-ending quest to fill the void
Leads them to the sweet leaf's
Smile and shinny oil
With glittering dust sticking to it's buds
Fill in your lungs and empty your mind
Fill in your lungs and empty your mind
The absurd dance
Of progression
Pushes them
To the edge of credibility
Remember the story of the boy who
Cried at the wolf
You know you're a lost cause when even the gullible won't buy it
They say you are what you eat
That must be why you're so fucking full of shit
You have no right to deny the free will
Of those who've suffered more than they needed
The percipient choice of altering consciousness
Should be left to it's architect
As the zigguratic tower of unfolding life
Is crumbling upon itself
With time rises
From thick ashes
A silhouette
An outline in dust
The premise of a
Whole new world
To build
As time flows
Burden only grows
The never-ending quest to fill in the void
Leads them to the green leaf
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2. |
VDM
08:32
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What what once
Established as a barrier
To protect our
Freedom
Is now serving as a weapon
To divide us with fear
It used to be done with modesty
It used to be done with honesty
But soon the greed for power bloomed
An already dying flower
And came along it's way
Sowing in disarray
The seeds of corruption
In our institutions
The ever tail biting snake of luxury
Spiraling in infinite dissatisfaction
Isn't it funny how decades tend to look alike
How things repeat themselves
In cyclical loop patterns
Fighting over and over to keep our rights
But this time we'll stand along and stand upright and we'll give them
Hell of a fight
And came along it's way
Sowing in disarray
The ever tail biting snake of luxury
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3. |
Dinner With The Dead
08:34
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Midnight bell tolls the end of life
For the feast of the eschaton
The saints bathing in blood and wine
Soused with the bitter taste of guilt, greed and lust
Skewered over the ever-rising blaze of our own insolence
Cloistered in a cycle of fallacies
Arrogance has plagued the nations
Digging trenches over chasms
A cleavage of pure hatred where fears
Becomes the new tyrants
Whipping their lashes
Shredding the stillness of the morning mist
Leaving trails of devastation behind it's passage
Fades away all hopes of turning back
The forgotten rises to satisfy their hunger
In a symphony of crackling bones
Marching for the unserved justice
Stomping for what is right to be theirs
Listen, or they will make your life a living hell
For they have endured more than hell
To build what has been taken for granted for too long
Tonight we are having dinner with the dead.
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Fosse Commune Montreal, Québec
Fosse Commune is a trio from Montreal's suburb. Their influences go from traditional doom to stoner and sludge while not being limited to those.
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