LOADING DATA
Arria Paetus
# | Discography | Type | Year | |
---|---|---|---|---|
1 | Arria Paetus | Full-length | 2016 | Show album |
2 | Moloch / Arria Paetus | Split | 2019 | Show album |
Arria Paetus
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
November 2016 | Lycaean Triune | Digital | ||
December 3rd, 2016 | Lycaean Triune | LT-02 | Cassette | Limited edition |
Members | |
---|---|
Miscellaneous staff | |
Brett Wehmeyer | Mixing, Mastering |
Blial Cabal | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Slash Your Flesh, Drink to Death | 05:22 | Show lyrics |
Again I am intoxicated, drunk off alcohol. Drunk off anguish and hate. A frozen world in which I do not belong. Disassociated. My driving force is negative energy and chaos. My passion is hatred. Anti-humanity. I worship only the earth, corpses as altars. Inwardly screaming, I submerge myself Entirely in angst, bathed in torment. Unholy Black Devotion. Misanthropy. Forced to this life, surrounded by filth. Forever self loathing. Made to hide my bestial nature, the primal force within. I am not one of you I am the destroyer. |
|||
2. | Exsanguine | 03:50 | Show lyrics |
Scraped back lips unveil Tar stained teeth In a ritual display Of hollow acknowledgement. Gestures of futility Traded back and forth; Used to add meaning To a shit life on a shit planet. All the while screaming And beating fists bloody On conjectures in burning minds. I thought summer would make me less bitter. Sobriety was supposed to be a positive change. I was never able to forget what It feels like to hate. I want to slash my own throat, I want to watch the arterial spray Glistening in the summer sun As it stains your shirt. I want to see your smile fade. I want to slash my own throat, I want to watch the arterial spray. |
|||
3. | The Entropic Hive | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
Laying neath the serpent’s coil, In a sickly pleasant nest of order and debris. Wrapped in the husks of conquered pasts, Cold in the hollow shells of their memory. Another night met with grimace and blade, But encountered only by drunks and their tired shame. Grown sick of the acetic breath of beasts, Sour and spoiled with failing ability. They trifle within their safe boundaries, Scared of the stare of any true challenge. Sightless and wild like startled bats. Emaciated and weak from lurking in caves. This vacant place of lazy cowards and mental disease, A single track monotony of incompletion and insanity. Treading impatient around the keep of these transient things, Surrounded by incompetent beings slithering with gluttony. Fat and ugly, full of ignorance and wasteful breaths. Functionless organs filled with shit and despairing. Lumbering things spouting whimpers and whines. Patterned creatures, wallowing in familiar pools. Discontented with the conquered space, Strewn with thin carcass and empty gaze. I’ve come overarmed for their mediocrity, Draped with the flayed skins of slaughtered fates, Decorated with the triumphs of unconquerable hostility. Bland and squandered minds found dripping away. The long scalps of severed pursuits stare expectantly, Winding elegantly round the wrist. Warm without joy in the tedium of present. The corpses of control rotating through their days. Encrusted with the bone shards of broken trials, Shattered bits of spent fists finding nothing to hold. Unchallenged in an arena of aging sloth. Misshapen candidates slink back to their squalor. Bored with the spectacle of chained cattle grazing circles bare. I gaze back to the beast’s endless black, Awaiting the brush of the dark’s burning scales. Yearning for its transforming scorch. Within its spinning teeth a purpose. The close of dimming fears. And longing like suicide for the grace of destruction, Hunched and starved like a dog. The wounds and wisdom come forth slowly, Only in the depths of utter vicissitude. |
|||
4. | Of Concrete and Loss | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
Eris, covered in slums, Shrouded by a crumbling sky. Living death, Struck to her fragile frame. The world escaped Growing on skin and nail. Steel towers stand tall Among desolate homes. Sticks and stones like totems To toppled buildings and splintered trees. A mixture of concrete and loss. Every inch busy, Working itself towards the grave. The culmination Of what was not wanted. Harm in a haphazard deposit. Handprints in pavement Longer than obituaries. The constant procession of progress, Spreading its way across hills. Occupants drag their heels through veins, Marching themselves down dismal streets. The violence of nature chained in place, A people parading pointlessly Shoulder to shoulder in place. Give hubris to the homely, Have them leave their homes and witness a world just as hideous. She is invulnerable until broken. She is birthed broken In a twisted mass. The steel and concrete never give. Shattered bones heal back weak, the torn skin comes back pink. I’m drifting through, lifeless, yet to ask why. |
|||
5. | Into the Turnagain Bore | 04:03 | Show lyrics |
Where I go, swathed in black The grey sky threatens to smother the sea. The grey sea tries to swallow the coast while the coast tries to hold up the sky. Above them all the grey gulls cry Trudging through this cobalt expanse I strive to outrun the coast to find out where the sky has collapsed. Still the grey gulls circle and call Trying to remind me of the absurdity of it all. Yet they cry in vain. With heavy footsteps I walk toward the dreary sea No longer encumbered I let it devour me. |
|||
6. | Hydrogen Sulfide | 04:47 | Show lyrics |
We are here simply to exist. Orbiting through darkness, Surrounded by atmosphere. We are here to ponder Endlessly on the cosmos. Here to breathe And wait for nothing. I fail to see the point Of such speculation. Hoping for a revolution That is merely The tapering end Of humanity. Man no longer embraces Animal instinct To protect, provide, Nurture or delegate. Wars are waged in cyberspace. We wallow in consumerism, Flaunting a bloated sense Of self worth based on currency. We have allowed our species To become feeble and weak. How can we speak Of progression? |
|||
7. | Cave | 09:38 | Show lyrics |
The craving beasts of ash trees, Huddled in their basement marquee, Listing lowly in the hells of their own memory. Bore from holy prisons of selfish existence, Hypothermic in the frozen tombs of silent talk. Wandered on beyond ignorance’s icy plain, Smearing the slow moments with stone broken feet. Fed on the young fat of failed supervision, Circling the drain of life’s vicious cycle. Like a roach rich with the remains Of another poisoned bug. Fear and trembling, the innocence lost in misery. Swayed in circles around the slashed feast, Slit and stilled by the claws upon a gasping wrist. An audience obsidium, held on a dissonant note. Of reflection and despair, violence then defeat. Like a broken needle amid a pile of glass. Dominated by the dog of their desire, their shame. Smiling hollow scorn upon the pardoning pleas. Stripped of skin and blushed with harrowing pain. Like a pile of black tar and plucked doves, Set softly upon scratched tile and dirty caulk. The still pools drooled dry on its broken grid. Flecked with feathers and the fragments of skull. Detergent flakes dashing the face, Like snow in the dark of a dead fire. Like a crumpled flower, like a bruised fruit. Creased by a panicked brow, crowned with a crust of blood. The open eyes crushed to weeping ovals of desperation and despair. Waning moons wavering in the flame of stinging tears. The scream of them silenced, the call of them unreturned. Mercy, oh thee, please relinquish me. Not near an ear, but locked doors and boarded windows. Shunted down a spider’s hole, the bent limbs broken To a wilted mass of cartilage and sinew. Dead branches spilling out in the spaces between. The soft swell of tissue through a cracked container. The map of thoughts, flickering as the lanterns extinguish. The rushing dark screams. The Spiders fill the cavities like cigarettes Between my teeth. Black rot in the crevice of an eager mouth. Dancing in the caverns of dead children. Smile sticky with webs, sore with the weapons of neglect. Raw at the corners from the entrance wounds. Shadowed hues declaring the deliverance. I cannot grasp the blooming of these hands. Split skin reveals the sinew tied taunt to bone. The flesh does not glisten, veins lie flat and still. Muscles clump, atrophied and self-consumed. The calluses prick through, white upon the dullness. I pull, pry at the crippled claw with impatience. The pinch slips, caught to the skeleton palm. Locked to myself, trapped in hells I have wrought. Silence in a howling of thought. |
|||
43:00 |
Moloch / Arria Paetus
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
October 20th, 2019 | Aesthetic Death | ADLP017 / LT05 | 12" vinyl | Limited edition, Gatefold |
November 20th, 2019 | Lycaean Triune | LT005 / ADLP017 | Cassette | Limited edition |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Moloch | |
Sergiy Fjordsson | All instruments, Vocals |
Gionata Potenti | Drums |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sergiy Fjordsson | Mixing, Mastering, Recording, Lyrics |
Business for Satan | Artwork |
Meriel Longmore | Artwork (additional) |
Greg Chandler | Mastering (vinyl) |
Gudbjørg | Mixing (additional), Mastering (additional) |
Brett Wehmeyer | Mastering, Mixing |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Moloch - The Seven Seals | 05:59 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Moloch - The Seven Trumpets | 12:29 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
Side B | |||
3. | Arria Paetus - Instruments of Torture | 07:14 | Show lyrics |
IInstruments of torture line the inside of my head. All named for imposters, all given a specific taste. In rows of reciprocation, armaments beam deceit. Perfectly weighted, hanging behind the face. Glittering chunks of needless aggression shining flagrantly abound. Pieces of perfection, eager as beaten beasts. Virgins to violation only for now. Gently I take them, drawing down each desire. Gently I take them, embracing violent means. Balance through subtraction. The weak always moan. Maximal bodily harm, slice the fat flesh of a hollow existence emptied by vacant consumption. The gutters of a civilized cage thick with fluids of waste. Life at a point of complete contempt, at a total capacity of vile thoughts. A mile wide smile of knives, dripping with committed sin. I feel the easing pestilence, The glowing satisfaction of buried blades. This place feels warmer, A rotten spot removed from its hide. In orders of magnitude, slashes sever the entire earth, fracturing its flooded face. Bleeding continents shake, Separate and show rotten bones. An act of filicidal rage. Total ruin of an empty cage, roots push apart ribs. Monument to inevitable nothing. |
|||
4. | Arria Paetus - (E)met | 07:03 | Show lyrics |
A rotting heap of the inanimate kneaded in to a shapeless husk: The golem of pestilential politics and thought, the nadir of humanity. Swing the scythe, find only famine. The crops of the mind, withered and barren. Sewn with the sterile seed of existentialist delusions. A bruised yellow succor to prelude black ink from a chewed tongue. Perspiring hands passing down Sisyphean knowledge. A slipping grasp on the cliffs of actuality. Crush the nib underfoot. Sunlight accentuates pallor, the oblong body of descent. Inherently meaningless time. Witness the plummet. Intelligent we may be, we wander stupidly. Watering a dead tree with bleach, pouring acid on a burn. A crater upon the indents of my skull, an impact of discontent and dripping hate. The primer of malaise burning rapidly in an echo chamber aflame. Douse the homes with gasoline and gawk at the approaching flame. Send skyward a strike to the righteous end. Rockets over a fawning populace, like the shit of vultures into their mouths. Blanket a cesspool of eager bugs. Lodge deep society’s deserved death. Glee for the god disease, lust for all’s suffering. Final respite, instant decline. Deep in the hole of every hollow creature, deep in our vacancy, the longing for true emptiness. Absence of any thought. Swing the scythe, find only famine Mud formed men, conscious of the dying dirt. Lowest level life lined up for nothing. Death at deluded bedside, death with innocence intact. A circle of other liars, dreaming open eyed. Such wretchedness in immortality; may murder cease me. Pure extermination of all consciousness, may I know not a thing. |
|||
32:45 |
Arria Paetus
Members | |
---|---|
Miscellaneous staff | |
Brett Wehmeyer | Mixing, Mastering |
Blial Cabal | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Slash Your Flesh, Drink to Death | 05:22 | Show lyrics |
Again I am intoxicated, drunk off alcohol. Drunk off anguish and hate. A frozen world in which I do not belong. Disassociated. My driving force is negative energy and chaos. My passion is hatred. Anti-humanity. I worship only the earth, corpses as altars. Inwardly screaming, I submerge myself Entirely in angst, bathed in torment. Unholy Black Devotion. Misanthropy. Forced to this life, surrounded by filth. Forever self loathing. Made to hide my bestial nature, the primal force within. I am not one of you I am the destroyer. |
|||
2. | Exsanguine | 03:50 | Show lyrics |
Scraped back lips unveil Tar stained teeth In a ritual display Of hollow acknowledgement. Gestures of futility Traded back and forth; Used to add meaning To a shit life on a shit planet. All the while screaming And beating fists bloody On conjectures in burning minds. I thought summer would make me less bitter. Sobriety was supposed to be a positive change. I was never able to forget what It feels like to hate. I want to slash my own throat, I want to watch the arterial spray Glistening in the summer sun As it stains your shirt. I want to see your smile fade. I want to slash my own throat, I want to watch the arterial spray. |
|||
3. | The Entropic Hive | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
Laying neath the serpent’s coil, In a sickly pleasant nest of order and debris. Wrapped in the husks of conquered pasts, Cold in the hollow shells of their memory. Another night met with grimace and blade, But encountered only by drunks and their tired shame. Grown sick of the acetic breath of beasts, Sour and spoiled with failing ability. They trifle within their safe boundaries, Scared of the stare of any true challenge. Sightless and wild like startled bats. Emaciated and weak from lurking in caves. This vacant place of lazy cowards and mental disease, A single track monotony of incompletion and insanity. Treading impatient around the keep of these transient things, Surrounded by incompetent beings slithering with gluttony. Fat and ugly, full of ignorance and wasteful breaths. Functionless organs filled with shit and despairing. Lumbering things spouting whimpers and whines. Patterned creatures, wallowing in familiar pools. Discontented with the conquered space, Strewn with thin carcass and empty gaze. I’ve come overarmed for their mediocrity, Draped with the flayed skins of slaughtered fates, Decorated with the triumphs of unconquerable hostility. Bland and squandered minds found dripping away. The long scalps of severed pursuits stare expectantly, Winding elegantly round the wrist. Warm without joy in the tedium of present. The corpses of control rotating through their days. Encrusted with the bone shards of broken trials, Shattered bits of spent fists finding nothing to hold. Unchallenged in an arena of aging sloth. Misshapen candidates slink back to their squalor. Bored with the spectacle of chained cattle grazing circles bare. I gaze back to the beast’s endless black, Awaiting the brush of the dark’s burning scales. Yearning for its transforming scorch. Within its spinning teeth a purpose. The close of dimming fears. And longing like suicide for the grace of destruction, Hunched and starved like a dog. The wounds and wisdom come forth slowly, Only in the depths of utter vicissitude. |
|||
4. | Of Concrete and Loss | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
Eris, covered in slums, Shrouded by a crumbling sky. Living death, Struck to her fragile frame. The world escaped Growing on skin and nail. Steel towers stand tall Among desolate homes. Sticks and stones like totems To toppled buildings and splintered trees. A mixture of concrete and loss. Every inch busy, Working itself towards the grave. The culmination Of what was not wanted. Harm in a haphazard deposit. Handprints in pavement Longer than obituaries. The constant procession of progress, Spreading its way across hills. Occupants drag their heels through veins, Marching themselves down dismal streets. The violence of nature chained in place, A people parading pointlessly Shoulder to shoulder in place. Give hubris to the homely, Have them leave their homes and witness a world just as hideous. She is invulnerable until broken. She is birthed broken In a twisted mass. The steel and concrete never give. Shattered bones heal back weak, the torn skin comes back pink. I’m drifting through, lifeless, yet to ask why. |
|||
5. | Into the Turnagain Bore | 04:03 | Show lyrics |
Where I go, swathed in black The grey sky threatens to smother the sea. The grey sea tries to swallow the coast while the coast tries to hold up the sky. Above them all the grey gulls cry Trudging through this cobalt expanse I strive to outrun the coast to find out where the sky has collapsed. Still the grey gulls circle and call Trying to remind me of the absurdity of it all. Yet they cry in vain. With heavy footsteps I walk toward the dreary sea No longer encumbered I let it devour me. |
|||
6. | Hydrogen Sulfide | 04:47 | Show lyrics |
We are here simply to exist. Orbiting through darkness, Surrounded by atmosphere. We are here to ponder Endlessly on the cosmos. Here to breathe And wait for nothing. I fail to see the point Of such speculation. Hoping for a revolution That is merely The tapering end Of humanity. Man no longer embraces Animal instinct To protect, provide, Nurture or delegate. Wars are waged in cyberspace. We wallow in consumerism, Flaunting a bloated sense Of self worth based on currency. We have allowed our species To become feeble and weak. How can we speak Of progression? |
|||
7. | Cave | 09:38 | Show lyrics |
The craving beasts of ash trees, Huddled in their basement marquee, Listing lowly in the hells of their own memory. Bore from holy prisons of selfish existence, Hypothermic in the frozen tombs of silent talk. Wandered on beyond ignorance’s icy plain, Smearing the slow moments with stone broken feet. Fed on the young fat of failed supervision, Circling the drain of life’s vicious cycle. Like a roach rich with the remains Of another poisoned bug. Fear and trembling, the innocence lost in misery. Swayed in circles around the slashed feast, Slit and stilled by the claws upon a gasping wrist. An audience obsidium, held on a dissonant note. Of reflection and despair, violence then defeat. Like a broken needle amid a pile of glass. Dominated by the dog of their desire, their shame. Smiling hollow scorn upon the pardoning pleas. Stripped of skin and blushed with harrowing pain. Like a pile of black tar and plucked doves, Set softly upon scratched tile and dirty caulk. The still pools drooled dry on its broken grid. Flecked with feathers and the fragments of skull. Detergent flakes dashing the face, Like snow in the dark of a dead fire. Like a crumpled flower, like a bruised fruit. Creased by a panicked brow, crowned with a crust of blood. The open eyes crushed to weeping ovals of desperation and despair. Waning moons wavering in the flame of stinging tears. The scream of them silenced, the call of them unreturned. Mercy, oh thee, please relinquish me. Not near an ear, but locked doors and boarded windows. Shunted down a spider’s hole, the bent limbs broken To a wilted mass of cartilage and sinew. Dead branches spilling out in the spaces between. The soft swell of tissue through a cracked container. The map of thoughts, flickering as the lanterns extinguish. The rushing dark screams. The Spiders fill the cavities like cigarettes Between my teeth. Black rot in the crevice of an eager mouth. Dancing in the caverns of dead children. Smile sticky with webs, sore with the weapons of neglect. Raw at the corners from the entrance wounds. Shadowed hues declaring the deliverance. I cannot grasp the blooming of these hands. Split skin reveals the sinew tied taunt to bone. The flesh does not glisten, veins lie flat and still. Muscles clump, atrophied and self-consumed. The calluses prick through, white upon the dullness. I pull, pry at the crippled claw with impatience. The pinch slips, caught to the skeleton palm. Locked to myself, trapped in hells I have wrought. Silence in a howling of thought. |
|||
43:00 |
Arria Paetus
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Brett Wehmeyer | Mixing, Mastering |
Blial Cabal | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Slash Your Flesh, Drink to Death | 05:22 | Show lyrics |
Again I am intoxicated, drunk off alcohol. Drunk off anguish and hate. A frozen world in which I do not belong. Disassociated. My driving force is negative energy and chaos. My passion is hatred. Anti-humanity. I worship only the earth, corpses as altars. Inwardly screaming, I submerge myself Entirely in angst, bathed in torment. Unholy Black Devotion. Misanthropy. Forced to this life, surrounded by filth. Forever self loathing. Made to hide my bestial nature, the primal force within. I am not one of you I am the destroyer. |
|||
2. | Exsanguine | 03:50 | Show lyrics |
Scraped back lips unveil Tar stained teeth In a ritual display Of hollow acknowledgement. Gestures of futility Traded back and forth; Used to add meaning To a shit life on a shit planet. All the while screaming And beating fists bloody On conjectures in burning minds. I thought summer would make me less bitter. Sobriety was supposed to be a positive change. I was never able to forget what It feels like to hate. I want to slash my own throat, I want to watch the arterial spray Glistening in the summer sun As it stains your shirt. I want to see your smile fade. I want to slash my own throat, I want to watch the arterial spray. |
|||
3. | The Entropic Hive | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
Laying neath the serpent’s coil, In a sickly pleasant nest of order and debris. Wrapped in the husks of conquered pasts, Cold in the hollow shells of their memory. Another night met with grimace and blade, But encountered only by drunks and their tired shame. Grown sick of the acetic breath of beasts, Sour and spoiled with failing ability. They trifle within their safe boundaries, Scared of the stare of any true challenge. Sightless and wild like startled bats. Emaciated and weak from lurking in caves. This vacant place of lazy cowards and mental disease, A single track monotony of incompletion and insanity. Treading impatient around the keep of these transient things, Surrounded by incompetent beings slithering with gluttony. Fat and ugly, full of ignorance and wasteful breaths. Functionless organs filled with shit and despairing. Lumbering things spouting whimpers and whines. Patterned creatures, wallowing in familiar pools. Discontented with the conquered space, Strewn with thin carcass and empty gaze. I’ve come overarmed for their mediocrity, Draped with the flayed skins of slaughtered fates, Decorated with the triumphs of unconquerable hostility. Bland and squandered minds found dripping away. The long scalps of severed pursuits stare expectantly, Winding elegantly round the wrist. Warm without joy in the tedium of present. The corpses of control rotating through their days. Encrusted with the bone shards of broken trials, Shattered bits of spent fists finding nothing to hold. Unchallenged in an arena of aging sloth. Misshapen candidates slink back to their squalor. Bored with the spectacle of chained cattle grazing circles bare. I gaze back to the beast’s endless black, Awaiting the brush of the dark’s burning scales. Yearning for its transforming scorch. Within its spinning teeth a purpose. The close of dimming fears. And longing like suicide for the grace of destruction, Hunched and starved like a dog. The wounds and wisdom come forth slowly, Only in the depths of utter vicissitude. |
|||
4. | Of Concrete and Loss | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
Eris, covered in slums, Shrouded by a crumbling sky. Living death, Struck to her fragile frame. The world escaped Growing on skin and nail. Steel towers stand tall Among desolate homes. Sticks and stones like totems To toppled buildings and splintered trees. A mixture of concrete and loss. Every inch busy, Working itself towards the grave. The culmination Of what was not wanted. Harm in a haphazard deposit. Handprints in pavement Longer than obituaries. The constant procession of progress, Spreading its way across hills. Occupants drag their heels through veins, Marching themselves down dismal streets. The violence of nature chained in place, A people parading pointlessly Shoulder to shoulder in place. Give hubris to the homely, Have them leave their homes and witness a world just as hideous. She is invulnerable until broken. She is birthed broken In a twisted mass. The steel and concrete never give. Shattered bones heal back weak, the torn skin comes back pink. I’m drifting through, lifeless, yet to ask why. |
|||
Side B | |||
5. | Into the Turnagain Bore | 04:03 | Show lyrics |
Where I go, swathed in black The grey sky threatens to smother the sea. The grey sea tries to swallow the coast while the coast tries to hold up the sky. Above them all the grey gulls cry Trudging through this cobalt expanse I strive to outrun the coast to find out where the sky has collapsed. Still the grey gulls circle and call Trying to remind me of the absurdity of it all. Yet they cry in vain. With heavy footsteps I walk toward the dreary sea No longer encumbered I let it devour me. |
|||
6. | Hydrogen Sulfide | 04:47 | Show lyrics |
We are here simply to exist. Orbiting through darkness, Surrounded by atmosphere. We are here to ponder Endlessly on the cosmos. Here to breathe And wait for nothing. I fail to see the point Of such speculation. Hoping for a revolution That is merely The tapering end Of humanity. Man no longer embraces Animal instinct To protect, provide, Nurture or delegate. Wars are waged in cyberspace. We wallow in consumerism, Flaunting a bloated sense Of self worth based on currency. We have allowed our species To become feeble and weak. How can we speak Of progression? |
|||
7. | Cave | 09:38 | Show lyrics |
The craving beasts of ash trees, Huddled in their basement marquee, Listing lowly in the hells of their own memory. Bore from holy prisons of selfish existence, Hypothermic in the frozen tombs of silent talk. Wandered on beyond ignorance’s icy plain, Smearing the slow moments with stone broken feet. Fed on the young fat of failed supervision, Circling the drain of life’s vicious cycle. Like a roach rich with the remains Of another poisoned bug. Fear and trembling, the innocence lost in misery. Swayed in circles around the slashed feast, Slit and stilled by the claws upon a gasping wrist. An audience obsidium, held on a dissonant note. Of reflection and despair, violence then defeat. Like a broken needle amid a pile of glass. Dominated by the dog of their desire, their shame. Smiling hollow scorn upon the pardoning pleas. Stripped of skin and blushed with harrowing pain. Like a pile of black tar and plucked doves, Set softly upon scratched tile and dirty caulk. The still pools drooled dry on its broken grid. Flecked with feathers and the fragments of skull. Detergent flakes dashing the face, Like snow in the dark of a dead fire. Like a crumpled flower, like a bruised fruit. Creased by a panicked brow, crowned with a crust of blood. The open eyes crushed to weeping ovals of desperation and despair. Waning moons wavering in the flame of stinging tears. The scream of them silenced, the call of them unreturned. Mercy, oh thee, please relinquish me. Not near an ear, but locked doors and boarded windows. Shunted down a spider’s hole, the bent limbs broken To a wilted mass of cartilage and sinew. Dead branches spilling out in the spaces between. The soft swell of tissue through a cracked container. The map of thoughts, flickering as the lanterns extinguish. The rushing dark screams. The Spiders fill the cavities like cigarettes Between my teeth. Black rot in the crevice of an eager mouth. Dancing in the caverns of dead children. Smile sticky with webs, sore with the weapons of neglect. Raw at the corners from the entrance wounds. Shadowed hues declaring the deliverance. I cannot grasp the blooming of these hands. Split skin reveals the sinew tied taunt to bone. The flesh does not glisten, veins lie flat and still. Muscles clump, atrophied and self-consumed. The calluses prick through, white upon the dullness. I pull, pry at the crippled claw with impatience. The pinch slips, caught to the skeleton palm. Locked to myself, trapped in hells I have wrought. Silence in a howling of thought. |
|||
43:00 |
Moloch / Arria Paetus
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Moloch | |
Sergiy Fjordsson | All instruments, Vocals |
Gionata Potenti | Drums |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sergiy Fjordsson | Mixing, Mastering, Recording, Lyrics |
Business for Satan | Artwork |
Meriel Longmore | Artwork (additional) |
Greg Chandler | Mastering (vinyl) |
Gudbjørg | Mixing (additional), Mastering (additional) |
Brett Wehmeyer | Mastering, Mixing |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Moloch - The Seven Seals | 05:59 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Moloch - The Seven Trumpets | 12:29 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
Side B | |||
3. | Arria Paetus - Instruments of Torture | 07:14 | Show lyrics |
IInstruments of torture line the inside of my head. All named for imposters, all given a specific taste. In rows of reciprocation, armaments beam deceit. Perfectly weighted, hanging behind the face. Glittering chunks of needless aggression shining flagrantly abound. Pieces of perfection, eager as beaten beasts. Virgins to violation only for now. Gently I take them, drawing down each desire. Gently I take them, embracing violent means. Balance through subtraction. The weak always moan. Maximal bodily harm, slice the fat flesh of a hollow existence emptied by vacant consumption. The gutters of a civilized cage thick with fluids of waste. Life at a point of complete contempt, at a total capacity of vile thoughts. A mile wide smile of knives, dripping with committed sin. I feel the easing pestilence, The glowing satisfaction of buried blades. This place feels warmer, A rotten spot removed from its hide. In orders of magnitude, slashes sever the entire earth, fracturing its flooded face. Bleeding continents shake, Separate and show rotten bones. An act of filicidal rage. Total ruin of an empty cage, roots push apart ribs. Monument to inevitable nothing. |
|||
4. | Arria Paetus - (E)met | 07:03 | Show lyrics |
A rotting heap of the inanimate kneaded in to a shapeless husk: The golem of pestilential politics and thought, the nadir of humanity. Swing the scythe, find only famine. The crops of the mind, withered and barren. Sewn with the sterile seed of existentialist delusions. A bruised yellow succor to prelude black ink from a chewed tongue. Perspiring hands passing down Sisyphean knowledge. A slipping grasp on the cliffs of actuality. Crush the nib underfoot. Sunlight accentuates pallor, the oblong body of descent. Inherently meaningless time. Witness the plummet. Intelligent we may be, we wander stupidly. Watering a dead tree with bleach, pouring acid on a burn. A crater upon the indents of my skull, an impact of discontent and dripping hate. The primer of malaise burning rapidly in an echo chamber aflame. Douse the homes with gasoline and gawk at the approaching flame. Send skyward a strike to the righteous end. Rockets over a fawning populace, like the shit of vultures into their mouths. Blanket a cesspool of eager bugs. Lodge deep society’s deserved death. Glee for the god disease, lust for all’s suffering. Final respite, instant decline. Deep in the hole of every hollow creature, deep in our vacancy, the longing for true emptiness. Absence of any thought. Swing the scythe, find only famine Mud formed men, conscious of the dying dirt. Lowest level life lined up for nothing. Death at deluded bedside, death with innocence intact. A circle of other liars, dreaming open eyed. Such wretchedness in immortality; may murder cease me. Pure extermination of all consciousness, may I know not a thing. |
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32:45 |
Moloch / Arria Paetus
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Moloch | |
Sergiy Fjordsson | All instruments, Vocals |
Gionata Potenti | Drums |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Gudbjørg | Mixing (additional), Mastering (additional) |
Sergiy Fjordsson | Mixing, Mastering, Recording, Lyrics |
Business for Satan | Artwork |
Meriel Longmore | Artwork (additional) |
Greg Chandler | Mastering (vinyl) |
Brett Wehmeyer | Mastering, Mixing |
Tracks | |||
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Side A | |||
1. | Moloch - The Seven Seals | 05:59 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Moloch - The Seven Trumpets | 12:29 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
Side B | |||
3. | Arria Paetus - Instruments of Torture | 07:14 | Show lyrics |
IInstruments of torture line the inside of my head. All named for imposters, all given a specific taste. In rows of reciprocation, armaments beam deceit. Perfectly weighted, hanging behind the face. Glittering chunks of needless aggression shining flagrantly abound. Pieces of perfection, eager as beaten beasts. Virgins to violation only for now. Gently I take them, drawing down each desire. Gently I take them, embracing violent means. Balance through subtraction. The weak always moan. Maximal bodily harm, slice the fat flesh of a hollow existence emptied by vacant consumption. The gutters of a civilized cage thick with fluids of waste. Life at a point of complete contempt, at a total capacity of vile thoughts. A mile wide smile of knives, dripping with committed sin. I feel the easing pestilence, The glowing satisfaction of buried blades. This place feels warmer, A rotten spot removed from its hide. In orders of magnitude, slashes sever the entire earth, fracturing its flooded face. Bleeding continents shake, Separate and show rotten bones. An act of filicidal rage. Total ruin of an empty cage, roots push apart ribs. Monument to inevitable nothing. |
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4. | Arria Paetus - (E)met | 07:03 | Show lyrics |
A rotting heap of the inanimate kneaded in to a shapeless husk: The golem of pestilential politics and thought, the nadir of humanity. Swing the scythe, find only famine. The crops of the mind, withered and barren. Sewn with the sterile seed of existentialist delusions. A bruised yellow succor to prelude black ink from a chewed tongue. Perspiring hands passing down Sisyphean knowledge. A slipping grasp on the cliffs of actuality. Crush the nib underfoot. Sunlight accentuates pallor, the oblong body of descent. Inherently meaningless time. Witness the plummet. Intelligent we may be, we wander stupidly. Watering a dead tree with bleach, pouring acid on a burn. A crater upon the indents of my skull, an impact of discontent and dripping hate. The primer of malaise burning rapidly in an echo chamber aflame. Douse the homes with gasoline and gawk at the approaching flame. Send skyward a strike to the righteous end. Rockets over a fawning populace, like the shit of vultures into their mouths. Blanket a cesspool of eager bugs. Lodge deep society’s deserved death. Glee for the god disease, lust for all’s suffering. Final respite, instant decline. Deep in the hole of every hollow creature, deep in our vacancy, the longing for true emptiness. Absence of any thought. Swing the scythe, find only famine Mud formed men, conscious of the dying dirt. Lowest level life lined up for nothing. Death at deluded bedside, death with innocence intact. A circle of other liars, dreaming open eyed. Such wretchedness in immortality; may murder cease me. Pure extermination of all consciousness, may I know not a thing. |
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32:45 |
Band ascii art
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