Recorded and Mixed by Dan Maier at Big Fish. Aug 2011
Mastered by Dan Randall at Mammoth Sound
released 01 December 2011
all rights reserved
feeds for ,
- Track Name: Looming Giants
Looming giants carve their silhouettes in the sky.
A burning horizon extinguished by disregard, while a lonesome world is made flat.
How easily we forget wind through the trees, or the crashing waves which beat against our memories.
Through mechanical instincts, an end.
Supply and forget. Supply to forget.
We’ve made our decision. We’ve made our extinction. A whispered end.
I won’t forget to live; to breath, until we walk naked through a land of claws and teeth.
- Track Name: Tribal Slaughter
The snow is stained red with the blood of our tribe,
and our bravest will fall until there are none of us left.
Pain, at the sight of our numbers depleting
beneath the cruel hands of careless shepherds.
Hunt. We’re hunted from the safety of the sky.
A price is paid in blood for trivial reward.
We tend the flock with blood.
No primal law in a life less content.
We suffer their mistakes.
Man fashions himself a god to kill his nemesis.
Our only crime, our will to survive.
The final call of our now weary hearts echos through the night,
and whispers in contempt of the damned.
- Track Name: Silver Lining
No rays of sunlight to show us the way.
Artificial light only leads us astray.
So, we stumble through the dark grasping in blind angst.
This is where our paths diverge.
Some fly to prey while other fly to survive.
There will be no silver lining for those who only know gold.
- Track Name: Hands That Take
In this, the change of the tides,
we see the new dawn of the toil of our hands.
Hands that tear. Hands that take.
We will all stand by vacantly and watch in a state of disarray
as selfish hands make unmarked graves in oily water.
And Somewhere in the distance the last light of hope begins to fade.
We’ve offset a balance as old as time.
Eons of progress, unmade by our hands.
Will tear drops in water really matter?
Will Mother Ocean’s final plea?
You can apologize to your children
for a blue world they will never know.
You will apologize...for what they’ll never know.
- Track Name: Monuments of Promise
Another strong falls to the defiler.
One more heart for this wretched collector.
We are lost in this Megalomania
of self-proclaimed gods and keepers of slaves.
Taken from open fields to endure forever pain.
We are lost in this...
There is no contentment.
No relief for a life of service.
A service of despair.
I work through your torment until I fucking break,
But it’s not enough to stop the whip, release the reigns.
Our lives, void of triumph;
we feel nothing but slow decay.
Our lives, void of triumph;
we wait endlessly for nothing but glorious death.
We’re slaves under monuments of promise;
to exploit our prowess; claim right to our lives.
We’re lost. Lost in our dreams of rest.
It echos through our conscience,
While the hate of this world is always pushing down.
We’re lost in the harmonies of death.
We are lost in this.
- Track Name: Final March
No, you won’t build your pearly gates with my ivory.
We cannot stay for very much longer.
Our stone frames crack and start to crumble away.
We are on our final march, but these prints we’ve carved in earth will last forever.
Pursuit of all our make sets forth our exodus.
These selfish creatures, who have forgotten how to walk close to the ground, will never forgive themselves if they could understand our pain.
So, we’ll proudly reside in a land of giants, of make believe.
The way it’s always been. The way it will always be.
Yet we hold no grudges, and we accept our fate.
We’ll die as not but forgotten colossi, weighing down minds that feel no shame.
Greed of the vain removes us from memory.
No, you won’t build your wicked dreams with my ivory.
You’d purge the realm of goliath kings only to ease your mind. You’re the burden of beast.
You’d fell the wing from sacred heights to comfort your lies. You’re the burden of beast.
You’d make slaves of the weak and tired to last your meager life. You’re the burden of beast.
You’re the burden of beast. The eternal blight.
- Track Name: Life of Misery
We scour through discarded wealth
A life of misery
A life unfit for rats
Their fever burns our eyes
and drugs fill our heads
until there is nothing left but pain.
Machines crumble our homes
and blades tear our skin
until there is nothing left of us
Our lives once shined with brilliance
now subject to the tests of anathema
Screams tear through sterile halls. Never to be silenced
How many lives in the name of progress?
How many lives? How many lives?
We’re made to live this life of misery.