1. |
Sound Bath/Sub Lingual
03:13
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Shrieking down halls of doom. Binding my sacrifice to enter this sewer of dreams. Hell is now. My final mistake dissolves in saliva and ties purpose to all that I’ve seen. I can’t help it. I can’t feel it. Please, no... I can’t help it. I can’t feel it. I can’t stop it. I can’t heal it. Hanging on my last crumbled memory. Gnashing, twisting, crushing, piercing, grinding, sucking, ripping, sublingual devastation. Have mercy.
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2. |
Predawn Light
02:18
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Buried in guilt. Sunken and paralyzed in the hay. Contemplating the constellations. Follow the bright star with your eyes. Void of judgement, it shines on everything.
Kind and pure predawn light. Grand mal pleasures. Last exhale. Kind and pure scintillating light. Grand mal pleasures. Birth in sight. Birth inside death. The light!
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3. |
Mirages
02:21
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When you’re at war with the things you can’t see, the demons you can’t touch, the things you don’t know. Hate forms a rock in the gut and it begins to glow and it’ll cauterize but it’ll stay in place.
Rotting in the sun isn’t the only choice. Somewhere there’s a guiding shade for your burning voice.
New lust for the feelings you can’t resist, crushing the innocence. Now you salivate. Traumatizing memories turn to scars so you use the smokes of sage but now they suffocate you.
Rotting in the sun isn’t the only choice. Somewhere there’s a guiding shade for your hopeless voice. Regardless... deep mirages. This internal insurrection explodes high.
Drowning in barbed wire, I feel like a cactus. There’s no other way but to surrender to pain, so I bathe in the silence. Fade into no one. Swallow the illusion and rip it out.
Too much heat to see. Mirages inside. Reach beneath. You must rip them out until only love is left behind.
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4. |
The Driver
03:05
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red mud
earth in springtime
crops underneath
young, volatile and sweet
Could be too late
fresh blood
circulation, computation
under new management:
big bad violator
What’s behind this door?
In envy they lush and gauze over you. Behind the swaying flame silhouettes bleed up the walls and brag to me, “I used opium to spark the eastern super death, I used black plastics to choke the world.” I need to fill the empty space.
Now I’m the Driver. We’re all dying in a glass house filled with nerve gas. They can see you. Oblivious. Playing silly games. Too hot too fast.
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5. |
||||
March!
Oh, realm of mine! I want to reach the sky. No guidelines, eye for an eye. Language: setting for a sin. Big brother Adonai. Now I want to touch the bastard. Welcome to high production.
March!
Oh, realm of mine! Let’s try a seventh time. Divine intervention. Forked tongues divide. It seems that death is contagious, I need you alive. Whine and babble on about your almighty czar. My will in high production land.
Like an angel. Don’t you trust me? Do you respect me? I’ll give you everything you need when you’re submitting to me. High production land.
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6. |
||||
Blaring sirens. Riot soldiers donning their gear and manifesting. Cities marching and protesting. Cut the rug with the spirit crushers.
Ball gag waltz. You will not control me. Ball gag waltz.
Ball gag waltz. Dancing in the melee. Ball gag waltz.
They want silence. Muzzling you. Legal bondage. Past your curfew. Billowing waves of electrical smoke. Cut the rug with the spirit crushers.
Ball gag waltz. You will not control me. Ball gag waltz.
Ball gag waltz. Dancing in the chaos. 2052.
Imperium in imperio
My decor is your crooked face
Obtain a hog head
Take the meat off the skull
Plug up the nostrils
Sew up the lips tight
Insert a wooden ball
To maintain the form
Boil it in a pot with cloves and corn
Dry it all out on hot rocks and sand
Decorate your work
Show it to your friends
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7. |
Serotonin
03:09
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Down. Stuck in it. Why would that intelligent girl decide to walk into traffic? It got worse.
It just ain’t right how a man bludgeons his wife and three beautiful children. He got sick.
Could be the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors.
Consume the madness. Does anyone know how we got here?
Having a good time at the movies. He walks in with guns and everyone leaves, but they’re covered in plastic. Some say the blood is on our hands. Numb.
So psychotic, damn. That guy tore the store apart because they fucked up his sandwich.
It’s just weird.
Could be the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors.
Digest the madness.
We flush old pills down the toilets and into the water. Softball onions... GMO’s. You got cell phone towers corroding the consciousness. Pharma’s experiments made the whole hood sicker. Cheers!
(Overall complications may include but are not limited to: misdiagnosis, misinformation, disinformation, synergistic effects, confusion, addiction, withdrawals, apathy, wanton violence...)
Consume the madness. No max dosage. Digest the madness.
Embrace the madness. Macrodosing fear.
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8. |
Sugar Daddy On Fire
03:08
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We got rich. We fell ill together. I forgot to turn off the oven.
The house is melting. My tongue is drying out.
I know all our piles of money are burning up in the kitchen.
Alright.
Beneath the strength of a big black brawny pimp. The spiritual
torture was so much more than we could bear.
Opaque missiles take you higher. Yellow spiders picking at
the scabs on your face.
Bring the base to a boil. Planting tan in the soil. Reaping
death for the poor.
And all your kids play with shards of brick.
On the boulevard drinking pop.
Sugar daddy on fire! Frying for me!
You see, justice is karma’s kin. And honey, that’s just how it is.
Sugar babies watch your abuser curl like a centipede in hot
water.
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9. |
WorldWideDarkWeb
01:41
|
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High on stilts
Waiting, watching
Spinning webs for the regulator.
The more you struggle, the more you strangle. Train to train and rooftop to rooftop. Making my way through acres of concrete.
Adjust your spine.
Adjust your smile.
Adjust your spine.
Adjust your smile.
Train to train and rooftop to rooftop. Making my way through acres of concrete. Walk the streets with the soulless freaks. The omnipresent new cameras are watching.
Adjust your spine.
Adjust your smile.
Adjust your spine.
Adjust your smile.
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10. |
||||
Bad programming, subjugation
Who you gonna fight for?
You!
Are you gonna bite hard?
Yes sir! Alright.
Talk your shit and encrypt it
Contribute to this tangled mess
Tell me what you think
Who’s ready for a brain bath?
Me!
Gonna gut our instincts tonight. Correct.
Words so loaded and cryptic
And sometimes your opinions are a tactical decision
The real you washed out
Sorting through this tangled mess unbraiding action and feeling.
Self deception, world destruction, sell your tales, and please forge your signature here.
I hope transparency and time will evolve us.
Racing through the labyrinths of the mind
Sublevels of branding and marketing
Maybe lies are the lubrication that keep the gears of society moving forward
Racing through the labyrinths of the mind
Sublevels of branding and marketing
Maybe lies are knots in the wires that connect all our heads and keep our energies a tangled mess
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11. |
||||
Why won’t it rain in this daydream?
This dark place is not where I want to be.
And they’re leading me, I know that they’re leading me, I know that they’re leading me, I’m sure that they’re leading me off a cliff!
They fed me spoiled rice, gruel and putch.
Rye smut in porridge. Now I can’t stop laughing!
The buzzards are calling. I hear rattling, my shackles are rattling, my shackles are rattling, I’m sure that they’re leading me...
(As my eyes adjust to the darkness of the burlap mask seeing through to the vast expanse...)
There’s rumors all throughout the towns of hooded bodies raining down into the cracked desert valley below... to appease our mother above.
Raining, pouring, raining, pouring
Raining, pouring, the people are snoring
Your elected leading you astray
Down
Awake
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12. |
Gazing In The Dark
04:53
|
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Paleolithic
Bones shifting in quicksand
Human ribs whittled into forks and knives
Caked with menstrual blood
Ritual and dogma
Catholic priesthood
Chanting in a dungeon
Beneath a cheap hotel
Eyes on the grand display
Manipulation of the darkness in you
Rummaging to find
That which is mine
breath of life
milk of life
purging vice from my veins
breath of life
milk of life
nourishment in my veins
The universe
Breaking my karmic body down
The sky breaks out in hives
Signals the end of these ancestral curses
Mobilization of benevolence in you
Only immersion in darkness
Brings brand new life
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PTP New York, New York
counter-industrial purveyors of weaponized media and information | PTP (aka Purple Tape Pedigree aka Power Through People aka Protect The Peace) is a collective + label
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