Refined blend of sentiments
Mounted on a handmade frame
Bland and lazy elegance
Begging to be set aflame
But maybe it's just my TV screen
Things are hard to recognize through layers of plastic bags
But maybe it's just my TV screen
You never know which end is really disconnected
I tried to cut her with a kitchen knife
Not to hurt her, just to see if she was in fact alive
I broke down with a grin
As the room started to spin
Sometimes it's killing me that I can totally live with this stale taste on my tongue
Sometimes I throw up cause I know that I have the spit to swallow what goes down so wrong
Sunglasses will help you keep appearances while wading through the shit
You can't avoid it; so you might as well enjoy it
And Spread the love
They won't harvest our organs
If we strike first
If we think fast
If we wear 'em out before they know of us
All the fruit in the world lost its sweetness and taste
All the meat it's tenderness
Being numb is so goddamn flavourless
The floor is cold
The floor is hard
The high wore of long ago
This is chronic medication
36 choice cuts - one from each 2015 LP, plus music from new signings on the mighty and 25-years-strong Relapse label. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 4, 2015