LOADING DATA
Well of Night
Members | |
---|---|
Current | |
Josh McElfresh | Bass |
Member(bands): Tryblith | |
Lindsey Pitman | Drums |
Member(bands): Imbortir, The Eddington Limit | |
Max Otworth | Guitars, Vocals |
Member(bands): Cheap Gas, Choking, Heavy Lies the Crown, Lysura, Trioxin, Venality, The Eddington Limit, Acheron, Darkness Undying, Voidweaver | |
Ethan Vawter | Guitars (2019-present) |
Member(bands): Engraved Darkness, Into Pandemonium | |
Past | |
Mark Strunk | Guitars (?-2019) |
Member(bands): Levelled, Trioxin, The Eddington Limit |
# | Discography | Type | Year | |
---|---|---|---|---|
1 | The Crimson Hexagon | EP | 2016 | Show album |
2 | 2019 Demo | Demo | 2019 | Show album |
3 | The Lower Planes of Self-Abstraction | Full-length | 2020 | Show album |
The Crimson Hexagon
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
November 3rd, 2016 | Independent | Digital | Bandcamp | |
November 3rd, 2016 | Independent | CD | CD-R, Limited Edition |
Members | |
---|---|
Josh McElfresh | Bass |
Lindsey Pitman | Drums |
Max Otworth | Guitars, Vocals, Artwork, Design |
Mark Strunk | Guitars |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Library of Babel | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
How many days have been lost amongst these shelves How many bodies grown frail in attempts to catalog obscurity Flung over the boundaries to fall endlessly to dust The quicksand of infinity swallows all who try to harness its virtue How many minds will be orn asunder to seek refuge in superstition Conflagrating texts in a projection of their own inadequacies Cults of the willfully ignorant fabricating a false sense of vindication Crumbling under the weight of every word that could ever be written We are not they, but through them we falter In the unlikelihood of understanding And yet we yearn, and thus push onward Impossibility eating at every step We are not they, but amongst them we wander These chains of despair are bound to all And yet we yearn, and thus we push onward Each opaque tome compounding the madness There cannot be a syllable which is not filled with tenderness and fear Which is not, in one of these languages, the powerful name of a god How many days have been lost amongst these shelves How many bodies grown frail Flung over the boundaries to fall endlessly to dust In the quicksand of infinity There can be no refuge in these words To speak them is to fall into tautology There can be no hope for vindication Its likelihood can be computed as zero And yet the red light beckons |
|||
2. | The Crimson Hexagon | 07:42 | Show lyrics |
At last, the seed of my yearning Has reached the zenith, as the gateway unfolds A black helix beckons from within And with a final breath, I am engulfed Formless, beyond there was nothing Then sentience returned through swirling text Psyche crumbled and ego was stripped Shell cracked through and oozing id The yolk of self turned to ash Welcomed in silence Bathed in absence Ascending downwards Towards rebirth I tread the path of starlight The ancestral temple looms beyond Liberated from the trenches of human acquaintance United in singularity Grinding the remains of dead gods into pigment to paint the spirals of the void At last, the seed of my yearning Has reached the zenith, as the gateway unfolds A black helix beckons from within And with a final breath, I am engulfed Formless, beyond there was nothing Then sentience returned through swirling text |
|||
3. | Pyrrhonist | 05:31 | Show lyrics |
Perspectives discarded in constant abscission, though the rotted limbs remain Gnarled testaments to apathy and weakness, inertia solidifying the bonds of their endurance Expunge - amputate this encumbrance, let me see with eyes undimmed Discharge - drown this albatross beneath the waves and with it, descend The horizon falls into shadow The perpetual weight of cosmic indifference Breath deep these waters and descend Iniquitous - discord has been sown Still beyond this dream you will not find true freedom Breath deep these waters and descend Perspectives discarded in constant abscission, though the rotted limbs remain The perpetual weight of cosmic indifference Breath deep these waters and descend |
|||
23:06 |
2019 Demo
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
January 11th, 2019 | Independent | Cassette | ||
January 11th, 2019 | Independent | Digital | Bandcamp |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 06:48 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:10 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
13:58 |
The Lower Planes of Self-Abstraction
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
July 16th, 2020 | Independent | CD | ||
July 16th, 2020 | Independent | Digital | Bandcamp | |
July 16th, 2020 | Independent | Vinyl |
Members | |
---|---|
Miscellaneous staff | |
Dave Otero | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
Adam Burke | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:09 | Show lyrics |
In the shade of budding limbs Ancient pillars clad in bark, form this sacristy Fingers borrowed to form the arrow’s shaft To launch defiantly at a dying sun Serpentine, crystalline, path of the borer. A headdress of pincers, shroud of larvae and compound eyes Cavernous, cancerous, to multiply without end. A pendant of tumors, rings of irradiated glass. A cocoon must be spun, to shed this earthly form. Reborn, not with wings to fly, but with claws to burrow Within ground water streams I will be nourished. Discharging corruption into the very core of this Earth. It is here I will fester. A blight on all who have wrought this contemptuous order Their forgotten legacies Will be the egg in which I plant my seed |
|||
2. | Allegiance to the Barren Lands | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
To be a bearer of authentic truth We swear allegiance to total detachment In bitter defiance, we lay claim to each deserted expanse Shields rattle in warning, as if anyone would.... Sit on this fool’s throne To gaze only inward, is to be forever alone Yet we have sworn allegiance To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity Born into this abortive dredge of the soul An infinite excavation of one’s own grave Any thirst for the rains seems hollow, a self-betrayal Verity lies only beneath these desert sands Honor is the last taste of marrow from bones long picked clean Transcendence hiding deep in the cracks of this parched soil Wielding the spear of Narcissus Clinging to deluded supremacy To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity The lakes reflection a grotesque mirage Donning a wreath of dead daffodils Pollen rancid and reeking of waste To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity In this no penance is offered, just spite and rage Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free Bereft in all claim to piousness, yet I will preach To a flock of those soon to flee, or die in disgrace In this no penance is offered, all projections deceased Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free |
|||
3. | Doctrine of Futility and Human Extinction | 07:56 | Show lyrics |
A brief sense of purpose to be drowned in abstraction Inculcation through blood As ideology dissolves in the dullest illumination An archetype of grief Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph A vast expanse of concrete and mud, painted in gold and stinking of shit The swamp of the ego The alter of futility and human extinction No tail left to swallow A philosopher’s rant and the screeching of jackals Half trick and lure, half vain expression An apothecary for half-wits and mummers A threadbare stage constructed of one’s own feathers Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph So let us chant these words as if they were our own As we struggle to chisel our effigy into pillars of ash So let us huff the fumes of methane and sulfur As we remind ourselves that we all "did our best" |
|||
4. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars Gatekeeper at the citadel Reveal to us the unbinding inscription Harness the potential in these tired bones Guide us through the deconstruction of matter The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion To Merope a bee must be fed Sterope turned to face the sun From Celaeno, a wolf must be bred Maia must take her spot on the throne To Electra - a locust in amber To Taygete - a noose To Alcyone - a prism, through the first light after the storm must be shone. Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Wash away all flawed philosophies To be set adrift in the flow of time Embrace the end to all tangible form Enigmatic in intent and in nature The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars |
|||
5. | Apex and Eschaton | 06:42 | Show lyrics |
Through the fortress of evighet Spectral whispers of lifetimes to come Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast Any hint of vindication Crushed beneath my feet Any absolution, any second chance The taste of blood on the lips of a saboteur Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. There can be comfort in these trenches As long as the stacking corpses are not your own Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast |
|||
6. | Ossuary of the Fallen Snow | 10:14 | Show lyrics |
It seems I’ve trudged a million miles... Yet I have not glimpsed the swirling aurora The echo of dawn cackles in its passing But the words of redemption it has yet to speak. I am now one with the gleaming ice of the falls That once flowed pure and endless, now in stasis and slumber Fingers long frozen creek in the howling wind And burn like the pyre, forever looming yet out of reach Endlessly downward I am beckoned What once was snow now a staircase of bronze and obsidian Each step now to the rhythm of a distant chant No shelter will be granted here... Oh he who with every word is maligned, let me be your scepter Oh he with the hive of dirt, let me be your swarm Oh he who mocks the righteous, let me be your tongue Oh he who embodies the void, let me be your form Oh he who is drowned in anger, let me be the flood Oh he who brings rot to the mire, let me be the mud Oh he who defiles the holy, let me be your piss Oh he with a legion a snakes, let me be your hiss In metamorphosis, they kneel Chest sunken and spines protruding Teeth rotted, stained with blood, and clogged with sinew Clawed hands gouge grooves into the cobblestone floors of the pit Chanting mouths agape towards a sky unseen and forgotten Awash in flowing ribbons of iridescence Anointed in the oily cloak of the acolyte Desert mind parched with shame and obsession Drink deep this tide of deliverance |
|||
45:49 |
The Crimson Hexagon
Members | |
---|---|
Josh McElfresh | Bass |
Lindsey Pitman | Drums |
Max Otworth | Guitars, Vocals, Artwork, Design |
Mark Strunk | Guitars |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Library of Babel | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
How many days have been lost amongst these shelves How many bodies grown frail in attempts to catalog obscurity Flung over the boundaries to fall endlessly to dust The quicksand of infinity swallows all who try to harness its virtue How many minds will be orn asunder to seek refuge in superstition Conflagrating texts in a projection of their own inadequacies Cults of the willfully ignorant fabricating a false sense of vindication Crumbling under the weight of every word that could ever be written We are not they, but through them we falter In the unlikelihood of understanding And yet we yearn, and thus push onward Impossibility eating at every step We are not they, but amongst them we wander These chains of despair are bound to all And yet we yearn, and thus we push onward Each opaque tome compounding the madness There cannot be a syllable which is not filled with tenderness and fear Which is not, in one of these languages, the powerful name of a god How many days have been lost amongst these shelves How many bodies grown frail Flung over the boundaries to fall endlessly to dust In the quicksand of infinity There can be no refuge in these words To speak them is to fall into tautology There can be no hope for vindication Its likelihood can be computed as zero And yet the red light beckons |
|||
2. | The Crimson Hexagon | 07:42 | Show lyrics |
At last, the seed of my yearning Has reached the zenith, as the gateway unfolds A black helix beckons from within And with a final breath, I am engulfed Formless, beyond there was nothing Then sentience returned through swirling text Psyche crumbled and ego was stripped Shell cracked through and oozing id The yolk of self turned to ash Welcomed in silence Bathed in absence Ascending downwards Towards rebirth I tread the path of starlight The ancestral temple looms beyond Liberated from the trenches of human acquaintance United in singularity Grinding the remains of dead gods into pigment to paint the spirals of the void At last, the seed of my yearning Has reached the zenith, as the gateway unfolds A black helix beckons from within And with a final breath, I am engulfed Formless, beyond there was nothing Then sentience returned through swirling text |
|||
3. | Pyrrhonist | 05:31 | Show lyrics |
Perspectives discarded in constant abscission, though the rotted limbs remain Gnarled testaments to apathy and weakness, inertia solidifying the bonds of their endurance Expunge - amputate this encumbrance, let me see with eyes undimmed Discharge - drown this albatross beneath the waves and with it, descend The horizon falls into shadow The perpetual weight of cosmic indifference Breath deep these waters and descend Iniquitous - discord has been sown Still beyond this dream you will not find true freedom Breath deep these waters and descend Perspectives discarded in constant abscission, though the rotted limbs remain The perpetual weight of cosmic indifference Breath deep these waters and descend |
|||
23:06 |
The Crimson Hexagon
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Josh McElfresh | Bass |
Lindsey Pitman | Drums |
Max Otworth | Guitars, Vocals, Artwork, Design |
Mark Strunk | Guitars |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Library of Babel | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
How many days have been lost amongst these shelves How many bodies grown frail in attempts to catalog obscurity Flung over the boundaries to fall endlessly to dust The quicksand of infinity swallows all who try to harness its virtue How many minds will be orn asunder to seek refuge in superstition Conflagrating texts in a projection of their own inadequacies Cults of the willfully ignorant fabricating a false sense of vindication Crumbling under the weight of every word that could ever be written We are not they, but through them we falter In the unlikelihood of understanding And yet we yearn, and thus push onward Impossibility eating at every step We are not they, but amongst them we wander These chains of despair are bound to all And yet we yearn, and thus we push onward Each opaque tome compounding the madness There cannot be a syllable which is not filled with tenderness and fear Which is not, in one of these languages, the powerful name of a god How many days have been lost amongst these shelves How many bodies grown frail Flung over the boundaries to fall endlessly to dust In the quicksand of infinity There can be no refuge in these words To speak them is to fall into tautology There can be no hope for vindication Its likelihood can be computed as zero And yet the red light beckons |
|||
2. | The Crimson Hexagon | 07:42 | Show lyrics |
At last, the seed of my yearning Has reached the zenith, as the gateway unfolds A black helix beckons from within And with a final breath, I am engulfed Formless, beyond there was nothing Then sentience returned through swirling text Psyche crumbled and ego was stripped Shell cracked through and oozing id The yolk of self turned to ash Welcomed in silence Bathed in absence Ascending downwards Towards rebirth I tread the path of starlight The ancestral temple looms beyond Liberated from the trenches of human acquaintance United in singularity Grinding the remains of dead gods into pigment to paint the spirals of the void At last, the seed of my yearning Has reached the zenith, as the gateway unfolds A black helix beckons from within And with a final breath, I am engulfed Formless, beyond there was nothing Then sentience returned through swirling text |
|||
3. | Pyrrhonist | 05:31 | Show lyrics |
Perspectives discarded in constant abscission, though the rotted limbs remain Gnarled testaments to apathy and weakness, inertia solidifying the bonds of their endurance Expunge - amputate this encumbrance, let me see with eyes undimmed Discharge - drown this albatross beneath the waves and with it, descend The horizon falls into shadow The perpetual weight of cosmic indifference Breath deep these waters and descend Iniquitous - discord has been sown Still beyond this dream you will not find true freedom Breath deep these waters and descend Perspectives discarded in constant abscission, though the rotted limbs remain The perpetual weight of cosmic indifference Breath deep these waters and descend |
|||
23:06 |
2019 Demo
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 06:48 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:10 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
13:58 |
2019 Demo
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 06:48 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:10 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
13:58 |
The Lower Planes of Self-Abstraction
Members | |
---|---|
Miscellaneous staff | |
Dave Otero | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
Adam Burke | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:09 | Show lyrics |
In the shade of budding limbs Ancient pillars clad in bark, form this sacristy Fingers borrowed to form the arrow’s shaft To launch defiantly at a dying sun Serpentine, crystalline, path of the borer. A headdress of pincers, shroud of larvae and compound eyes Cavernous, cancerous, to multiply without end. A pendant of tumors, rings of irradiated glass. A cocoon must be spun, to shed this earthly form. Reborn, not with wings to fly, but with claws to burrow Within ground water streams I will be nourished. Discharging corruption into the very core of this Earth. It is here I will fester. A blight on all who have wrought this contemptuous order Their forgotten legacies Will be the egg in which I plant my seed |
|||
2. | Allegiance to the Barren Lands | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
To be a bearer of authentic truth We swear allegiance to total detachment In bitter defiance, we lay claim to each deserted expanse Shields rattle in warning, as if anyone would.... Sit on this fool’s throne To gaze only inward, is to be forever alone Yet we have sworn allegiance To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity Born into this abortive dredge of the soul An infinite excavation of one’s own grave Any thirst for the rains seems hollow, a self-betrayal Verity lies only beneath these desert sands Honor is the last taste of marrow from bones long picked clean Transcendence hiding deep in the cracks of this parched soil Wielding the spear of Narcissus Clinging to deluded supremacy To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity The lakes reflection a grotesque mirage Donning a wreath of dead daffodils Pollen rancid and reeking of waste To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity In this no penance is offered, just spite and rage Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free Bereft in all claim to piousness, yet I will preach To a flock of those soon to flee, or die in disgrace In this no penance is offered, all projections deceased Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free |
|||
3. | Doctrine of Futility and Human Extinction | 07:56 | Show lyrics |
A brief sense of purpose to be drowned in abstraction Inculcation through blood As ideology dissolves in the dullest illumination An archetype of grief Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph A vast expanse of concrete and mud, painted in gold and stinking of shit The swamp of the ego The alter of futility and human extinction No tail left to swallow A philosopher’s rant and the screeching of jackals Half trick and lure, half vain expression An apothecary for half-wits and mummers A threadbare stage constructed of one’s own feathers Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph So let us chant these words as if they were our own As we struggle to chisel our effigy into pillars of ash So let us huff the fumes of methane and sulfur As we remind ourselves that we all "did our best" |
|||
4. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars Gatekeeper at the citadel Reveal to us the unbinding inscription Harness the potential in these tired bones Guide us through the deconstruction of matter The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion To Merope a bee must be fed Sterope turned to face the sun From Celaeno, a wolf must be bred Maia must take her spot on the throne To Electra - a locust in amber To Taygete - a noose To Alcyone - a prism, through the first light after the storm must be shone. Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Wash away all flawed philosophies To be set adrift in the flow of time Embrace the end to all tangible form Enigmatic in intent and in nature The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars |
|||
5. | Apex and Eschaton | 06:42 | Show lyrics |
Through the fortress of evighet Spectral whispers of lifetimes to come Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast Any hint of vindication Crushed beneath my feet Any absolution, any second chance The taste of blood on the lips of a saboteur Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. There can be comfort in these trenches As long as the stacking corpses are not your own Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast |
|||
6. | Ossuary of the Fallen Snow | 10:14 | Show lyrics |
It seems I’ve trudged a million miles... Yet I have not glimpsed the swirling aurora The echo of dawn cackles in its passing But the words of redemption it has yet to speak. I am now one with the gleaming ice of the falls That once flowed pure and endless, now in stasis and slumber Fingers long frozen creek in the howling wind And burn like the pyre, forever looming yet out of reach Endlessly downward I am beckoned What once was snow now a staircase of bronze and obsidian Each step now to the rhythm of a distant chant No shelter will be granted here... Oh he who with every word is maligned, let me be your scepter Oh he with the hive of dirt, let me be your swarm Oh he who mocks the righteous, let me be your tongue Oh he who embodies the void, let me be your form Oh he who is drowned in anger, let me be the flood Oh he who brings rot to the mire, let me be the mud Oh he who defiles the holy, let me be your piss Oh he with a legion a snakes, let me be your hiss In metamorphosis, they kneel Chest sunken and spines protruding Teeth rotted, stained with blood, and clogged with sinew Clawed hands gouge grooves into the cobblestone floors of the pit Chanting mouths agape towards a sky unseen and forgotten Awash in flowing ribbons of iridescence Anointed in the oily cloak of the acolyte Desert mind parched with shame and obsession Drink deep this tide of deliverance |
|||
45:49 |
The Lower Planes of Self-Abstraction
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Dave Otero | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
Adam Burke | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:09 | Show lyrics |
In the shade of budding limbs Ancient pillars clad in bark, form this sacristy Fingers borrowed to form the arrow’s shaft To launch defiantly at a dying sun Serpentine, crystalline, path of the borer. A headdress of pincers, shroud of larvae and compound eyes Cavernous, cancerous, to multiply without end. A pendant of tumors, rings of irradiated glass. A cocoon must be spun, to shed this earthly form. Reborn, not with wings to fly, but with claws to burrow Within ground water streams I will be nourished. Discharging corruption into the very core of this Earth. It is here I will fester. A blight on all who have wrought this contemptuous order Their forgotten legacies Will be the egg in which I plant my seed |
|||
2. | Allegiance to the Barren Lands | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
To be a bearer of authentic truth We swear allegiance to total detachment In bitter defiance, we lay claim to each deserted expanse Shields rattle in warning, as if anyone would.... Sit on this fool’s throne To gaze only inward, is to be forever alone Yet we have sworn allegiance To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity Born into this abortive dredge of the soul An infinite excavation of one’s own grave Any thirst for the rains seems hollow, a self-betrayal Verity lies only beneath these desert sands Honor is the last taste of marrow from bones long picked clean Transcendence hiding deep in the cracks of this parched soil Wielding the spear of Narcissus Clinging to deluded supremacy To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity The lakes reflection a grotesque mirage Donning a wreath of dead daffodils Pollen rancid and reeking of waste To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity In this no penance is offered, just spite and rage Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free Bereft in all claim to piousness, yet I will preach To a flock of those soon to flee, or die in disgrace In this no penance is offered, all projections deceased Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free |
|||
3. | Doctrine of Futility and Human Extinction | 07:56 | Show lyrics |
A brief sense of purpose to be drowned in abstraction Inculcation through blood As ideology dissolves in the dullest illumination An archetype of grief Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph A vast expanse of concrete and mud, painted in gold and stinking of shit The swamp of the ego The alter of futility and human extinction No tail left to swallow A philosopher’s rant and the screeching of jackals Half trick and lure, half vain expression An apothecary for half-wits and mummers A threadbare stage constructed of one’s own feathers Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph So let us chant these words as if they were our own As we struggle to chisel our effigy into pillars of ash So let us huff the fumes of methane and sulfur As we remind ourselves that we all "did our best" |
|||
4. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars Gatekeeper at the citadel Reveal to us the unbinding inscription Harness the potential in these tired bones Guide us through the deconstruction of matter The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion To Merope a bee must be fed Sterope turned to face the sun From Celaeno, a wolf must be bred Maia must take her spot on the throne To Electra - a locust in amber To Taygete - a noose To Alcyone - a prism, through the first light after the storm must be shone. Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Wash away all flawed philosophies To be set adrift in the flow of time Embrace the end to all tangible form Enigmatic in intent and in nature The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars |
|||
5. | Apex and Eschaton | 06:42 | Show lyrics |
Through the fortress of evighet Spectral whispers of lifetimes to come Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast Any hint of vindication Crushed beneath my feet Any absolution, any second chance The taste of blood on the lips of a saboteur Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. There can be comfort in these trenches As long as the stacking corpses are not your own Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast |
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6. | Ossuary of the Fallen Snow | 10:14 | Show lyrics |
It seems I’ve trudged a million miles... Yet I have not glimpsed the swirling aurora The echo of dawn cackles in its passing But the words of redemption it has yet to speak. I am now one with the gleaming ice of the falls That once flowed pure and endless, now in stasis and slumber Fingers long frozen creek in the howling wind And burn like the pyre, forever looming yet out of reach Endlessly downward I am beckoned What once was snow now a staircase of bronze and obsidian Each step now to the rhythm of a distant chant No shelter will be granted here... Oh he who with every word is maligned, let me be your scepter Oh he with the hive of dirt, let me be your swarm Oh he who mocks the righteous, let me be your tongue Oh he who embodies the void, let me be your form Oh he who is drowned in anger, let me be the flood Oh he who brings rot to the mire, let me be the mud Oh he who defiles the holy, let me be your piss Oh he with a legion a snakes, let me be your hiss In metamorphosis, they kneel Chest sunken and spines protruding Teeth rotted, stained with blood, and clogged with sinew Clawed hands gouge grooves into the cobblestone floors of the pit Chanting mouths agape towards a sky unseen and forgotten Awash in flowing ribbons of iridescence Anointed in the oily cloak of the acolyte Desert mind parched with shame and obsession Drink deep this tide of deliverance |
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45:49 |
The Lower Planes of Self-Abstraction
Members | |
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Original line-up | |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Dave Otero | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
Adam Burke | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Black Alder Sacristy | 07:09 | Show lyrics |
In the shade of budding limbs Ancient pillars clad in bark, form this sacristy Fingers borrowed to form the arrow’s shaft To launch defiantly at a dying sun Serpentine, crystalline, path of the borer. A headdress of pincers, shroud of larvae and compound eyes Cavernous, cancerous, to multiply without end. A pendant of tumors, rings of irradiated glass. A cocoon must be spun, to shed this earthly form. Reborn, not with wings to fly, but with claws to burrow Within ground water streams I will be nourished. Discharging corruption into the very core of this Earth. It is here I will fester. A blight on all who have wrought this contemptuous order Their forgotten legacies Will be the egg in which I plant my seed |
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2. | Allegiance to the Barren Lands | 06:31 | Show lyrics |
To be a bearer of authentic truth We swear allegiance to total detachment In bitter defiance, we lay claim to each deserted expanse Shields rattle in warning, as if anyone would.... Sit on this fool’s throne To gaze only inward, is to be forever alone Yet we have sworn allegiance To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity Born into this abortive dredge of the soul An infinite excavation of one’s own grave Any thirst for the rains seems hollow, a self-betrayal Verity lies only beneath these desert sands Honor is the last taste of marrow from bones long picked clean Transcendence hiding deep in the cracks of this parched soil Wielding the spear of Narcissus Clinging to deluded supremacy To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity The lakes reflection a grotesque mirage Donning a wreath of dead daffodils Pollen rancid and reeking of waste To tread upon fertile ground Is to sacrifice authenticity In this no penance is offered, just spite and rage Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free Bereft in all claim to piousness, yet I will preach To a flock of those soon to flee, or die in disgrace In this no penance is offered, all projections deceased Yet show me the one with the swollen tongue, so I may cut it free |
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3. | Doctrine of Futility and Human Extinction | 07:56 | Show lyrics |
A brief sense of purpose to be drowned in abstraction Inculcation through blood As ideology dissolves in the dullest illumination An archetype of grief Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph A vast expanse of concrete and mud, painted in gold and stinking of shit The swamp of the ego The alter of futility and human extinction No tail left to swallow A philosopher’s rant and the screeching of jackals Half trick and lure, half vain expression An apothecary for half-wits and mummers A threadbare stage constructed of one’s own feathers Synapses chafe and callous from running in circles. The staticy hiss of self-projection A feedback loop of spoon-fed identity The crooked gouging of a charlatan’s epitaph So let us chant these words as if they were our own As we struggle to chisel our effigy into pillars of ash So let us huff the fumes of methane and sulfur As we remind ourselves that we all "did our best" |
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4. | Ritual of the Seven Shrines | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars Gatekeeper at the citadel Reveal to us the unbinding inscription Harness the potential in these tired bones Guide us through the deconstruction of matter The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion To Merope a bee must be fed Sterope turned to face the sun From Celaeno, a wolf must be bred Maia must take her spot on the throne To Electra - a locust in amber To Taygete - a noose To Alcyone - a prism, through the first light after the storm must be shone. Seed scatterer be among us Bury thy hands deep into the soil Of Plague, of carrion Within decay, you will find a womb Wash away all flawed philosophies To be set adrift in the flow of time Embrace the end to all tangible form Enigmatic in intent and in nature The seven sisters have assembled a refuge Above these kingdoms of rust Seven shrines hold the key to the gateway Seven fragments lost to the passage of time...await their reunion Harness this focus inward Within these tangled roots you’ll find a woven passage to the stars |
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5. | Apex and Eschaton | 06:42 | Show lyrics |
Through the fortress of evighet Spectral whispers of lifetimes to come Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast Any hint of vindication Crushed beneath my feet Any absolution, any second chance The taste of blood on the lips of a saboteur Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths The shoulders of the complacent Will bear the weight of consequence Forever appeasing the false. The bastard Svengali The cinder block tied around the neck Forever acclimating to lower depths Recite The invocation of the eschaton Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. Benight Spirituality and the cozened ranks Undermine the will of the Bethlehemites and neophytes The fallacy in man must be undone. There can be comfort in these trenches As long as the stacking corpses are not your own Hallucinations of centuries past As if there would be perspective to gain Empty corridors, tarnished brass An epilogue of enduring monotony A tinge of a dream forgotten or imagined Wisdom like shattered bones in a concrete cast |
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6. | Ossuary of the Fallen Snow | 10:14 | Show lyrics |
It seems I’ve trudged a million miles... Yet I have not glimpsed the swirling aurora The echo of dawn cackles in its passing But the words of redemption it has yet to speak. I am now one with the gleaming ice of the falls That once flowed pure and endless, now in stasis and slumber Fingers long frozen creek in the howling wind And burn like the pyre, forever looming yet out of reach Endlessly downward I am beckoned What once was snow now a staircase of bronze and obsidian Each step now to the rhythm of a distant chant No shelter will be granted here... Oh he who with every word is maligned, let me be your scepter Oh he with the hive of dirt, let me be your swarm Oh he who mocks the righteous, let me be your tongue Oh he who embodies the void, let me be your form Oh he who is drowned in anger, let me be the flood Oh he who brings rot to the mire, let me be the mud Oh he who defiles the holy, let me be your piss Oh he with a legion a snakes, let me be your hiss In metamorphosis, they kneel Chest sunken and spines protruding Teeth rotted, stained with blood, and clogged with sinew Clawed hands gouge grooves into the cobblestone floors of the pit Chanting mouths agape towards a sky unseen and forgotten Awash in flowing ribbons of iridescence Anointed in the oily cloak of the acolyte Desert mind parched with shame and obsession Drink deep this tide of deliverance |
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45:49 |
Band ascii art
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