1. |
Ashen Soil
07:08
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Malefic arms lying in wait
Agents of harm tempting fate
How cruel when few refuse to try and abate
The many are rained on, clearing slate
Better to boil and shed this coil
Than ache and toil your ashen soil
With luck, such contest shall yield no conquest
Just bring the final rest
Holding vain stance till final date
No chance in hell to acclimate
To disillusion from this god and state
May stop the fusion to decimate
Bask in blooming sunsets
Dance to death's minuet
As winds of fiery threat
Drown blaring trumpets
Better to boil and shed this coil
Than ache and toil your ashen soil
With luck, such contest shall yield no conquest
Just bring the final rest
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2. |
Bequeathal
03:08
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No time for what loved ones say
No time to try that cafe
Just business days
No time to go on that date
No time to just celebrate
Too soon, too late
Clutching to your fortune
Known for what you own
Waiting until your corporeal prison is finally outgrown
Divvy out the portions
Quadrisect the throne
Only your name follows you into the great unknown
Clutching to your fortune
Known for what you own
Time just finds a way of defaulting on your life's loan
No memory of your kind face
No memory of your embrace
Left no great trace
No memory of your acclaim
No memory pre growing lame
Just a surname
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3. |
Never Know Your Name
05:29
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You walk, I kiss the Earth
You give the hours worth
How you paved, how you saved
His arrival a gift
His passing now a rift
What a frame, what a shame
That man will never know your name
In pain I would revert
In you I do convert
Not to stray, not afraid
His end came undeserved
His life not unobserved
None to blaim, none to claim
That man will never know your name
If this is just a temporary facade
A nightmare in which we are all dwelling, than wake me
Won't somebody answer
If there's somewhere beyond the ashes and rot
a purpose to our final upwelling, than take me
Won't somebody answer
In your hands I've been bound
In your eyes all is sound
No red tape, no escape
His final battle curt
His final rest inert
All became all too lame
That man will never know your name
If this is just a temporary facade
A nightmare in which we are all dwelling, than wake me
Won't somebody answer
If there's somewhere beyond the ashes and rot
a purpose to our final upwelling, than take me
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4. |
Unsown
04:11
|
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Hazey thoughts occupy head, just need to wake up
Lazy absent-minded slof of the same day-to-day thread
Efforts that are spoken of have been made up
Just in effort to convince there's more than to lay in bed
Stalling further from the mark, just need to shape up
Falling when reaching for ends dangling just above the head
Fear, to lose those things so dear
And in each passing year
Honing senses so drear
Fear of living life unsown
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5. |
Plastic and Bone
07:23
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Our works and monuments are destined to tumble
How easily that the ticking clock does cull
Our handprints in pavement in time crack and crumble
Each frantic heartbeat racing towards certain lull
Despite all the planning, despite breaking sweat
Our denouement is imminent and long been since preset
Despite any pleading, despite constant fret
The hour glass is draining down with no way to reset
Plastic and bone is all out legacy, plastic and bone
Plastic and bone is all we'll ever be, plastic and bone
Our values and ethics will one day be untold
All meaning wiped from each thread on the flagpole
Our warms, refined bodies, once claimed to harbor souls
Is nothing more than the future's fossil fuel
Despite all the dogma, despite our subset
We've misconstrued the centuries with no time to regret
Despite any pleading, despite constant fret
The hour glass is draining down with no way to reset
Plastic and bone is all out legacy, plastic and bone
Plastic and bone is all we'll ever be, plastic and bone
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6. |
Duramen Blight
10:06
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I feel living death
I steal every breath
Ante meridian rays pelt the skin
Foliage greets the day to much chagrin
Aged rings prone to blight rot within
I feel living death
I steal every breath
Bucking blades amputate feeble limbs
Premonitory winds sway body so slim
Closing in every day, future so grim
Ante meridian rays pelt the skin
Foliage greets the day to much chagrin
Aged rings prone to blight rot within
State of decline, feel insides soften and decay
Entangled vines, a sign of ages overstayed
No need for shrines, content to face uncertain gray
Next in lifeline, hold parts of self to the next day
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