1. |
To Look For Sheep
04:04
|
|
||
We live in a time without retaliation,
of offense without retort.
Acting solely through arbitration,
crying for applause.
Injustice and injury
met only with whines.
Our knives are sheathed,
our hands are soft.
We defer our own pride,
we hand over our independence.
Fawning for the heavy hand of authority,
we play weak for attention.
Calling on pigs
to dole out petty penalties.
Every weak finger points,
but never closes to a fist.
The flock hides behind a shepherd,
terrified of their inadequacy.
Violent retribution
is a personal act.
One should feel their actions
red and wet on the skin.
Do we no longer know the feeling?
The rush of clarity
when one fully commits.
Rectifying transgression,
breaking the jaw of those that would spit.
I demand action.
I demand the returning of favors.
An eye for an eye,
an eye for the whole severed head.
Bear your own blood
if the crime is so great.
Take for yourself
if life or limb must be taken.
I leave this night
to look for sheep.
If I don’t find them,
any coward will suffice.
I leave this night
to look for sheep.
The world improved
if prey doesn’t slip away.
|
||||
2. |
Curse Of Consciousness
05:18
|
|
||
We've been lied to
ever since our birth.
That being is a blessing,
that being is better than nothing.
If I'd had the knowledge
within the warmth of the womb,
I'd have tied an umbilical noose
and brought an end to this world.
No one deserves
to be born at the end.
No one deserves
the curse of consciousness.
Survivor's guilt,
the manifestation of reality
that those who have perished
are the lucky ones.
A coward dies
over and over again.
Bearing witness
to the hubris of humanity.
We destroy ourselves daily anew,
in servitude and in vice.
Bowing before
our supposed removal from nature.
Rotting while still alive.
What to make
of an animal biting its tail?
Frustration and denial
that it itself is one
with life's inevitable defeat.
Children shocked by pain.
The collective cries of all suffering
echo empty into space.
Simple negatives embody
all that we ignore.
There is no redemption in trial,
no salvation through good behavior.
All is for naught.
Any and all is piss in the sea.
|
||||
3. |
Malice Aforethought
05:12
|
|
||
I condemn you
to a life of untreatable disease;
boils and fever,
fire and shame.
I curse you
to a death of indescribable pain;
spewing arteries
and obliterated bone.
The feeling of the first drops
of blood on my knuckles,
blood on my teeth and tongue.
Lapping in the carnage,
savoring the crime.
And let it not be the last,
like a nymph enthralled by its rape.
Sever ascension and bask
in the lowest of all acts.
Angels are in need of bondage,
bastards are in need of pain.
Beating the broken
as a demonstration of power.
The glorious revelation of violence.
I relate only to solitude,
sentience is irrelevant.
If time and place
should grant me the chance,
without any other eyes or ears to perceive,
I want nothing more
than to pin you by your throat
and slowly drive a blade beneath your sternum.
To leech you of your humors,
to watch the whites of your eyes
grow with panic.
Darting back and forth,
searching for familiarity,
for a shred of “humanity”.
Mucus frothed lips contort
useless flailing becomes weaker as you pale.
Forever emulating the foolish,
reigning over the insecure.
Samson option,
all slaughter within my radius.
Malice aforethought,
abandonment of proportionality.
A Masada mentality
by force of arms.
When rebellion can't be incited,
slay the sheep and burn the wool.
No world without the self,
thus all worlds bear an end.
No deterrence strategy,
supersede all doctrine.
Destruction of temple and earth,
mass retaliation and glorious death.
First to break first use.
May nothing be extended forever.
Envisioning all demise
to eradicate common rule.
I relate only to solitude,
sentience is irrelevant.
|
||||
4. |
|
|||
From a pedestal of wishful thinking,
warped by the need for make believe,
A fool’s persona proselytizes
their drug induced beliefs.
Posturing as the pinnacle
of all human perception,
jerking off to manuscripts
in a warm modern home.
Admitting the faults of faith
while wholeheartedly flaunting their own.
The left hand path is decorated just the same,
worshipping all things
as greater than they are.
Rejecting the crucifix
but still chugging the wine.
Passing off hallucination
as something divine.
Sleep paralysis
or just a drunkard’s rest?
There is nothing deeper
to an inebriated vision.
Just stumbling and vomit,
slurred words and lost ideas.
Confirmation bias via intoxication,
enlightenment without critique.
Brain injury necessary
to perceive the fantasy.
I take issue with this methodology,
and the false certainty it grants.
The tantra of bullshit pedallers.
if a man sees a ghost in the smoke,
why should anyone give a shit?
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like Ego, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp