1. |
stairs (drainland)
04:17
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Slits.
Dead black slits
Sink.Handcuffs.Chairs.Underneath a stairs.
The sound of keys that jangle overhead..
they sing to me
like birds in the trees.
Blindfolded, I smell damp and dust.
I'm struggling to breathe in this heat.
Heart comes bursting, beating against lungs
like a drum sounding a deathmarch out.
Door creaks open, pulse throbs like a dull knife
as I wait for the inevitable.
You look tired.You look unwell.You're not yourself.Let me untie you.
Please don't struggle.Please don't resist.I said don't resist.Don't make me hurt you.
A street light.
A cloth rag.
Mild struggle.
Back seat of a car.
Then darkness.
Then waking, locked in here.
I could have been here hours, or days, maybe months..who the fuck knows?
Adjusting to life as the dead.
I think I can learn.
I think I can try.
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2. |
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I'm starting to come round. I'm thinking it through. This isn't about me. It's all about you.
You think I'm oblivious? You think I can't hear? You think I feel anything other than fear?
You've built me a pedestal under the world. Kick start me a new life, unseen and unheard.
They don't know I'm down here. For all they know I'm already dead.
They don't know you're harmless. They don't know I'm clothed, housed and fed.
Like a rescued orphan that you've chosen to raise as your own.
A malnourished young jewel you've encased in the room below.
Tell me again how we're one and the same. Parallel venoms, same arm different veins.
Turn the key: lights out. Hands re-tied, gagged mouth. Scanning for exits. Waiting for your mistake.
They don't know I'm down here and I'm not sure they give a fuck.
They don't know you'll harm me only if I break you trust.
So I'll take advantage of that massive hole in your heart.
Risk my life (or what's left of it)...if I die will you let me out?
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3. |
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My hands uncuffed behind my back, your keys in your belt within my reach.
My grasp mistimed, I stumble and fall. A kick in the ribs as I continue to crawl.
A lamp pulled to the floor. I hear sirens roar. They must know I'm here, in this dungeon.
The door kicked open, the light floods in. Badges flash before my eyes.
Now his hands cuffed, they march him out: "You like that fucker? You proud of yourself?"
World's eyes on me. Microphones and cameras. Questions I can't answer.
And in this seemingly endless night I thought I was alone the whole time. I was wrong.
They tell me there were two more before I came. They'd been missing who knows how long? I don't know.
I just know they lay dead in a room next to mine the whole fucking time. Or so I've just been told
Maybe they didn't adapt the same? Maybe they only had themselves to blame? Maybe that's why I'm still alive?
Am I the only one left alive?
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4. |
vaccine ( trenches )
14:09
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vendetta records Schorfheide, Germany
lebend und sterbend nähren wir die flamme
To avoid getting tax added to your order just order from the vendetta bigcartel store:
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