1. |
What's in the Bags?
01:47
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Walkman on
Ready to embalm
Working rigor mortis
In my craft I'm flawless
Knock at the door
My job interrupted
Visit in the dead of night
Give me a disrupting fright
Black bags at your side
what is it you've got to hide
Seeking a favor for friendship
Your request seems senseless
You're very buddy-buddy
what's in the bags
Why won't you tell me
What's in the bags
Shaking, writhing these bags are alive
What dark mystery do they hide?
Cats in the bag waiting to be let out?
Maybe sunfish or mechanized chimps?
Writhing inside is the dismembered undead
Unphased by decapitation and a pick axe to the head
Screaming in pain, hunger for brains
Quickly to the furnace incinerate the reanimated
Ashes to atmosphere
Rain toxic upon the earth
Reanimate, reanimate
Reanimate, reanimate
Death transcended
by the undead
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2. |
Spectacle of Blood
02:29
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Slash, bludgeon
Blood flowing
Shocked, stare
Time slowing
Almost stopping
Hearts are racing,
bodies dropping
What are my choices
Fight, hide, live or die
Hard to keep hold
of ideology
Survive or die
The moment is upon me
Thrust into a state of 'war'
one can never truly prepare for
Strangling of innocence
A means to a threat
Entertain the privileged
Intimidate the oppressed
Morbid to all who dare
look it in the face
Palatable as tradition
When played to the base
Justifications - Endless
Creativity is the only boundary
to how far the ruling may go
to maintain their control
I am now in this horrid
violent nightmare
I cannot purge the screams
of the dying
And if I live to sleep
They will haunt all my dreams
The sound of death
is in the air
Hanging like a pall of darkness
Reverberation of a fate I may share
What are my choices
I will not die a pawn
Fight, hide, die, defy
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3. |
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Bantering man-child
playing with lives
though a majority
didn't elect him
Speak loudly and swing a big stick
with no restraint
Like a flippant clown
with shoelaces tied together
Incapable of fore
or even afterthought
Finger on the button
Mouth on the trigger
Not a poke but a kick
to a nuclear threat
Speak loudly and swing a big stick
Cindered bodies ashen shells
to be blown away like leaves
A fate left in the hands
of the most fragile of egos
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4. |
Creature on the Wing
02:15
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Forty five tons of metal
Twenty tons of fuel
They said I could do this
That's not how I feel
tell myself it's okay
Unease setting in
What could go wrong
Suspended 20,000 feet above land
Exits, windows, vision of the wings
Constant reminders that I am not safe
It's locked in now
No escape, no alternatives
I must do this
Wait, what is that
There, on the wing
A man, a creature, a demon, a gremlin,
Walking on the wing
There and gone
Before anyone else can see
Muscles tense, sweat drips
It must be happening again
Hallucinations, psychosis
No one will believe me
Keep my eyes shut
or confront this delusion
There it is again
This is no delusion
its hideous face
defies description
Dismissed as paranoia
They try to medicate me
If they won't believe me
I am the only one who can stop this
Sneaking the gun from the holster
Of the sleeping air marshall
Creature standing on the wing
Prying at the plane's engine
Malicious curiosity
Inviting death in totality
Popping open the exit
Reaching out I take the shots
Go ahead, think I'm crazy
but we're safe and I saved us all
I'm not crazy
You will see
I'm not crazy
You will see
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Flesh Incineration
Flesh Incineration is from the United States and is influenced musically by grindcore, goregrind, powerviolence, and brutal death metal.
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