Split tape w/ Special Guest, Not Half Bad, Mean and Ugly
released June 29, 2012
- Track Name: Maternal
Why can't you be normal like my friends son? You ungrateful little shit. Is it your friends? Your little freak friends? Are you gay? Are you on fucking drugs? No one I know acts like you, so why are you so out there son? Why are you so out there son? I don't know why., but I always reply. I am simply the son of a bitch. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more, nothing less. Fucking worthless.
- Track Name: The Hunger
We are the pure. We are the bright. We are so unsure. We are so trite. So content in our rejection, this rebellion’s a reflection. No heart beats without the hunger, living to surpass the other.
We demand this “Promised Land”, but it will crumble by our hand. More foolish than when we were younger, no heart beats without the hunger.
- Track Name: Ambivalence
Trapped in a haze of synthetic passion, that’s stripping away my shreds of humanity. A spiral to a new circle of hell. Collapsing, every piece of myself. What have I become? Shackled to this disease that haunts me. This rapture is the scourge that always taunts me. What have I done?
Possessed by the entity, my head is split. I ‘d kill just to have it I’ve condemned myself to this chaos I’ve found, a damned cycle of abuse. The bridge to reality is burning down, as I’m dangling above still choking on the noose.
- Track Name: Temporis Fidelis
Set-ups and disasters, From hidden puppet masters.
Are speeding up this doomsday clock, and drawing the curtain faster. Chaos will surely ensue, in a naive world that never knew. Fate will never show its face. To these deaf, blind, and dumb rats in this sick arms race. As we enter the end, Know that Humanity let it begin. (Fuck) The future is never in stone, but the finale is concrete. So sit back and watch these ember thrones, engulf every civic street.
- Track Name: Idle Hands
Slave to the daily grind, fingers hardly bone. drawing blood for 40 hours while debt turns us into stone. Circulate the wealth, maximize the workforce. They steal from behind to feed the fucking war horse. Our chronicle ends, when the cycle begins. Ticking by and by, supply, command, comply. Idle Hands.
- Track Name: Going Home