1. |
Procession
05:01
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The rose that wilts was once the rose that freshly bloomed Each living thing shall have its day, and then its doom
The gnaw of Time, slow, consuming until all is dust
And for our greatest works, all we'll have to show is rust
Grim reflections sometimes leap out from obscurity
Inide of fleeting moments, they breach our consciousness
And then it's like they're gone
Without ever really leaving
In my dreams I saw a robed succession of strangers
I myself was walking and found myself in their ranks
Young in the rear with the old out in front
Not an utterance of where we were going
And upon waking that's all little more than grogginess
The mind prefer's its sober thruths with a side of foginess
But it's all still there And we still make the Procession
In our solitary lives With our isolated incidents
We still walk together To our collective destination
And the days go on
Shaping existence, flowing one by one
Like grasping sand time slips the fingers
Suppose I'll wait till I've no spirit left to linger
Life is like the tide It has its ebbs and flows
Yet the strand runs short As the tapestry grows
That which unmakes us Is what really makes us
Measuring success In relation to our finitude
We go forth to the blinding light
We walk together in a ceaseless march
And there's no hesitation From finish to start
But when you find yourself in your critical moment
Will you look back at the others as they make the procession
The electricity in your mind to dissipate as heat
And at the cross of the threshold you will forever sleep
We will all make the procession And there will be full participation
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2. |
Paradise
03:53
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The fundamentals of antiquity
Still mislead contemporary minds
The scales always tipped towards restriction
Surrender your identity as part of your conviction
And let none ever do what is yet to be written
When paradise was lost
When you saw the rebel angels falling
When you watched the sky tear
Did the love of a wrathful god feel unconditional?
Do you think that the man reading in Latin might be lying?
Do you think the man to whom you confess might just be prying?
What kind of comfort is an absent god providing
Which one could not obtain through mortal reconciling?
When paradise was lost
When you saw the rebel angels falling
When you watched the sky tear
Did the love of a wrathful god feel unconditional
How long will you parrot from your mythos
In an age of supposed reasoning
How long can so many minds remain sedated
By two thousand year old ramblings
I lament the mass enslavement of my brethren
Kept so lowly by the lies they've all been raised with
Taught to find their comfort in their misdirection
A weary haze onset by Eucharistic poison
When paradise was lost
Did it even affect you
Did you even blink
As it crumbled around you
When your paradise was lost
Was it awash with your denial?
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3. |
Muted Empathy
04:01
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Competition and scarcity
Inform our concept of what’s necessary
May daggers in my back be found in yours
May evils unto me be returned and then more
Brought up in a a death cult of a culture
Feeding on the weak and dying like a vulture
The blood I bathe in is the endless stream I siphon
I use the warmth to keep my frigid heart from icing
Cold hearts of man Lost to entropy
Vampiric adaptation Muted empathy,
Every day the cold is biting slightly harder
The sense of self becoming numb to any other
The warmth one takes often exceeds the warmth one makes
And that’s just fine as long as you’re the one who takes
The world was never meant for everyone to prosper
The scales of our joy defined by how we suffer
Come to me, entrust me with your life
I’m quite sure that it would fetch a hefty price
I suck the warmth from every living thing around me
I take that life force and I turn it into money
You might not see me, but I’m coming
Vulnerability just makes me extra hungry
A wound inflicted may turn into a scar
But what of injuries upon a loving heart?
Mass to rival the greatest neutron Star
Black hole implosive flesh is what we truly are
Dead hearts of man Lost to everything
Still-tide ocean Frozen suffering
Billions, billions All our species
Baptized in their Screaming apathy,
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72 Legions Cleveland, Ohio
A savage and visceral Death-Metal band from Cleveland Ohio, 72 Legions (based on the myth of Ars Goetia) bring brutal death,
thrash and elements of black metal into a melodic yet violent mix of music.
Formed in 2022 by Curran Murphy (Nevermore / Annihilator) (guitar), the lineup is complete with Dan Gates (vocals/bass), Robert Quade (guitar) and Colton Zeitler (drums).
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