lyrics
REMERON NIGHTMARES
A reason for a wake. Like someone has died, and fallen beneath. Look down to the sky. It’s up to me, to realise the product, of your putrid fate. And disgusting rise. Did you think, that no-one would notice, a thorn in their eye? A unit that speaks. A feral machinist, that blocks out the sun. A predator waiting, she’ll eat you in one. Remeron nightmares of Ill fated steps. Galvanised portions of her painted breath
…cold… still… hard…cold… still… wait-ing, for you to fall…cold…still… hard… lost in the feud…cold…still…hard…
A timely state of mind. We’re lost in the city, and treated benign. Deflowering order and lavishing crime. A blemish on eyes. The flash from a merchant, to signal for more. The scavengers circle, devour the floor.
…cold… still… hard…cold… still… wait-ing, for you to fall…cold…still… hard… lost in the feud…cold…still…hard…
Alkaline skin, and the smell of sulphur. A powering furnace with plumes of grandeur. The smell of corrosion and rust on his neck. A sedative notion of our time is met.
The ground begins to shake. She’s seen her new target and grinding awaits. Fuelled by the sound. Of cackling voices and stumbling crowds. Hydraulically driven to capture devour.
…cold… still… hard…cold… still… wait-ing, for you to fall…cold…still… hard… lost in the feud…cold…still…hard…
They're not curves, they're ang-led cor-ners. They're not curves, they're ang-led welds. They're not curves, they're ang-led cor-ners. They're not curves, they're ang-led welds.
Gal-van-ised by cold hard port-ions of her fab-ri-cated self. Cor-ro-sive marks and sharp corn-ers build to terrorise and fell.
They're not curves, they're ang-led cor-ners. They're not curves, they're ang-led welds. Gal-van-ised by cold hard port-ions of her fab-ri-cated self. Cor-ro-sive marks and sharp corn-ers build to terrorise and fell.
credits
released December 20, 2012
Recorded at Warehouse Studios, Oxford by Geezer Audio
Mastered by Addz Milner
license
all rights reserved