I’m just like ash. Coals have got one on me. Always supposed I’d grow to glow again with just some claps and headstands. Death tells all. Death tells all. So let’s get life! Let’s get it! It’s too cold for what you’re doing- treading water through these winters. Frozen flesh thawed and fried. How’s your death cooking? Naked, sifting the sky in search of clouds with good old history, free from me and my breath. So I’ll parachute myself into an eighteen wheeler windshield doing sixty- Now that’s history I would repeat if I survived the first hit. I got to go. I’ve been burning plastic since lucid dreaming was an option. My friend are you headed west? Hop in already. Don’t mind the passports or open that glove box. It’s filled with thumbs. There’s a man in my attic. He talks the talk without walking a step. There’s a man in my attic. He talks peace then leaves open manholes for you to fall in, for me to crawl into. I’m not caving in as much as I’m checking out. The snake said to the fire ant, “Bite hard and burn all you can!” This is where my art goes. Into killing you. The hearses here, they drive themselves. Zero to sixty in a heartbeat. Heart of a taxi. Loves hitch hikers. You’re the sinkhole. Lets start sinking! There’s a man in my attic. He talks the talk without walking a step. There’s a man in my attic and he’s headbutting nails. I’ll be burning plastic till the ceiling and my lungs both burn a bitter blackness and healing is just a fantasy. Get out the phone books and look up your favorite butcher. Ask him to give you a trim. Tell him to “Treat me like you would those filthy pigs. I am lean.” Treasured fracture. Why I live in a hell projected history of boys you’ll see crying their lights out begging for life I don’t know. This has been such a needed God sent dead end (but I am my own murderer, a cadaverous road worker, and blacktop spews alongside my words) Death perception landmarks and a read only word driven into skin. If you're blind. If your eyes are working but working overtime for yourself then you better catch a cab and catch another until you step out and watch the old man roll away.
This band's from Gainesville, FL building a utopia of sweet, hurt good sounds for you and I to move to. You like the shivers? Not from ice cubes but soulful goodness? Well...headbang with feeling! Cattle Drums
This music was written on an uncharted planet (Orange County, NY) and it's gonna really bust open your insides and start a heavy flow of exotic intoxicating feelings! Cattle Drums
The Italian hardcore group’s latest is a powerful, claustrophobic album that rarely lets up its mathy, metallic assault. Bandcamp Album of the Day Feb 6, 2018