1. |
Virtue And Tyranny
00:44
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2. |
Upside Down Syndrome
04:01
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Upside Down Syndrome
Suspension of disbelief holding on by a thread
Hanging from phantom limbs, wall to wall eggshells
Step lightly, amputee
Survivor’s guilt is a hell of a thing
Standing rooms teeming with straw-men eating crow
Decorate the walls with Rorschach blood scatter
Somatic entanglement severed, a double-barreled bookend
Hell-bent for heaven
Rejecting our casual decay
As taction turns remedy, sensation greys and touch becomes anesthesia
We sharpened our claws on the jewelry we made from the cross
We found solace in the arms of the beggars we used to peddle our cause
So, spare us the undue process, self-serving consumerist nonsense
Even if it’s a product of nothing, you’re still a product
No scarcity of opinion, when opinion is currency
Fill a sieve with the threat of compassion and watch it bleed out
Decorate the walls with Rorschach blood scatter
Somatic entanglement severed, a double-barreled bookend
Hell-bent for heaven
Burning bridges to keep from freezing to death
Oh, what noise we made
Stillborn sentiments of a morally barren womb
Year zero of the new order, it’s still just bones under boots
Rejecting our casual decay
As taction turns remedy, sensation greys and touch becomes anesthesia
We sharpened our claws on the jewelry we made from the cross
We found solace in the arms of the beggars we used to peddle our cause
Rejecting our casual decay
As taction turns remedy, sensation greys and touch becomes anesthesia
Stillborn sentiments of a morally barren womb
Year zero of the new order, it’s still just bones under boots
Bones under boots
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3. |
Dyslexicon
04:07
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Dyslexicon
One set of bloody footprints in the sand
Two sets approach the point where one was abandoned
Raised by wolves in the image of the creator
Why shouldn’t man be just as callous as nature
Day by day, bored to death
Suicide letter, hanging from every word
A dead-end attraction captivates if it’s live
Let’s make our first night in town our last night on earth
You taught us to play the death rattle from birth
We played that piece of shit for all we believed we were worth
One set of bloody footprints in the sand
Two sets approach the point where one of them was abandoned
We’re making waves to drown out the noise of our own sinking vessel
Consume anything to fill the empty spaces
Capsize all dissension with a deluge of delusion
Drifting in petulance, grasping at straws
To stay unmoored we need another distraction
Cold souls are what we become
False hopes are what we hang from
To decompose and recreate, forever bound to redundancy
One set of bloody footprints in the sand
Two sets approach the point where one of them was abandoned
They’re making waves just to drown out the noise of our own sinking vessel
To decompose and recreate, forever bound to redundancy
Lyrics by Mike Dupree and Faith in Ruin
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4. |
Soft Targets
05:40
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Soft Targets
Cold war stand-off with the captain and his maker
Salt shaker over the shoulder while the ship is sinking
Give the witless a snake to believe in
Cold blood boils in the wake of cognitive dissonance
An amalgam of mental carrion
Panic button pseudo-ethical sadists
Dead horse beatdown Damoclean conquest
The point is the target most commonly fucking missed
Neglected stress fractures need to be rebroken
Spit out of nothing into nothing, great responder
To the brim with empty spaces so we wander
Yeah, we wander
Nerve endings cauterized, chemical bliss, overload reactor
Black box confessions take on water, great deflector
Into the deep where nothing ever stirs, nothing ever sleeps
Wash your butcher blocks clean and help me stack up all the meat
We’re just human target practice
A deadweight scale balance
Human target practice
Cannon fodder for the masses
We’re just human target practice
We’re just human target practice
A deadweight scale balance
The point is the target most commonly fucking missed
Neglected stress fractures need to be rebroken
Into the deep where nothing ever stirs, nothing ever sleeps
Wash your butcher blocks clean and help me stack up all this meat
Lyrics by Mike Dupree and Faith In Ruin
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5. |
The Hunter
03:57
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Guitars/Bass - Jeremy Harlan
Vocals - Mike Dupree
Drums - Patrick Snyder
Produced by Patrick Snyder
All songs by Faith In Ruin
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6. |
Oh, Death
05:03
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Oh, Death
Far better to return to latent state than remain unrecognizable fragments of a mind cannibalized
My head a host for demons I don’t even fucking believe in
If it’s hell or high water you pray for rain
Fresh meat down a hollow drain
All alone in good company
A devil’s grip on a heavenly verse
Opposing self-appointed archangels converge
Caught in the crossfire of myself and I
The middle man carries the weight of us both
The rafters aren’t supportive, just a shot-clog accomplice
Let gravity do the dirty work
Don your dead sea swimwear and dive into the drink
Tie the knot, throw in the towel
The trick is to die on your feet
Into the mouth of oblivion
Avoid the teeth with your tongue in cheek
Between a fuck to give and a life to raze
Sisyphus found his hard place
Caught in the crossfire of myself and I
The middle man carries the weight of us both
An island of nothing
A siren’s song that never stops enticing you towards the rocks
I didn’t mean forever when I flipped the switch
Just stealing time to breathe
Sometimes the light never comes back on
Drag the lake for the rest of me
Oh, death why have you forsaken me
When I’ve done everything to solicit your company
You’ve taken everything I love
Am I just not good enough
It’s time to cast off shore but I can’t pay the fee
Oh, Death
I can’t see anything, I’m a ghost in here, I’m a ghost in here
I can’t get the spark to re-ignite to prove that I’m still alive
Poison myself to sleep at night, a dreamless state, is dreamless safe?
I don’t know so I can’t believe, I can’t believe, I can’t believe
Lyrics by Mike Dupree and Faith In Ruin
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7. |
Gaslit Dystopia
04:27
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Gaslit Dystopia
Bulimic gluttons puking wrenches into gears
Egosyntonic self-destruction
Ectopic morality
It died on the vine as a fish out of water
Replete to the gills with shit and conceit
The thrills of glass house warfare
Shock and awe, ritual cannibals
Detritus eating its own
Thumbs puppeteering a knee-jerk reaction
Bleeding hearts on a string
So count me among the fallen angels that fell short of perfection
By the grace of their tongues the whispers of serpents are calling me home
Pressure cooker time bomb
The devil you know, the monster you made
Drawbridge disassociation
Straw man assembly line
Scarecrow or not, the scavengers thrive
Papier mâché, dead-eyed soldier propped up to sell shit to flies
So count me among the fallen angels that fell short of perfection
So count me among the fallen angels that fell short of perfection
By the grace of their tongues the whispers of serpents are calling me home
Ebony and irony, dead letter apology
Devil’s triangle divine comedy
Deadbeat forefather
So count me among the fallen angels that fell short of perfection
By the grace of their tongues the whispers of serpents are calling me home
Conscientious armchair objector
The ocean is craving
So beat this dead horse to water
Agoraphobic attention seeker
Lyrics by Mike Dupree and Faith In Ruin
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8. |
Terminal Velocity
04:14
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Terminal Velocity
Spiraling, forever sinking and twisting into an unsound frame of mind where nothing fits
Nothing stops the itch so I
dig, dig, until I feel something again
dig, dig, some semblance of giving a shit
But I keep sinking deeper
I'll sink as low as it takes to keep her
I can't remember the last time I felt this way for a landmine
Drag my compassion and empathy out into the light
Kill it right in front of me, I need to watch it die
Keep your eyes on the blind side
Nothing is conceived that isn't contrived
Symmetry is all that matters to a decaying mind
Drowning in the ID, debating with the ego the difference between costume and disguise
It's a curious sensation having your head in the clouds, knowing the fucking landing gear is out
My heart needs a home that my mind can't reach
It's thrown itself against the gears of the other machines
again, and again, once more unto the breach
seal up the wall with the dead so perception and pain never meet
I can hear them inside my head, pulling at the threads that unmake me
Lyrics by Mike Dupree and Faith In Ruin
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9. |
Recessive
06:08
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Recessive
Kill it now before it spreads
That’s what it’s always screaming
Ease into the jaws of the beast
Drowning men seldom die alone
Ahab scratching at the back of my teeth
Another port of call
Another squall to bereave
I must be pretty down to earth to paint such a picture on the street
I was never afraid of heights until I felt the gravity
My brush strokes can’t be trusted
Burn the canvas drown the artist
I lost all hope of rescue when the sea swallowed the sun
The dark holds countless terrors I won’t make it to the dawn
Batten down the hatch
Seal off the exits
Light a match
The leeches had their fill so the fever finally broke
And my heart could take a cardiac arrest
Toss your lots in
My brush strokes can’t be trusted
Burn the canvas drown the artist
I’ve still got sickness for the sowing
I’m a broken thing made by broken things and this isn’t fucking living
Every heart beats itself to death
Every word is a broken projector
It’s better off this way, sweet child
Minds forget but scars remember
I see red in every shade of grey
Rope walker choose your battles wisely
Kill it now before it spreads
That’s what it’s always screaming
I can feel the spiders in my head
Pulling at the threads that unmake me
I slept through my funeral and dreamt of the wake
Step ladder daydreams and kick chair nightmares
My brush strokes can’t be trusted
Burn the canvas drown the artist
I had to carry the ghost until it coughed up a purpose
When it finally did, I found myself afraid to scratch its surface
I’ve still got sickness for the sowing
I’m a broken thing made by broken things and this isn’t fucking living
Lyrics by Mike Dupree and Faith In Ruin
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Faith In Ruin Atlanta, Georgia
Music video for Dyslexicon OUT NOW!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PRZ94vy9Sk
Pre-Order Gaslit Dystopia releasing 12/04/20
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