1. |
Pitch Black
02:19
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I just want to be golden
Effortlessly golden
But I’m physically frozen
Stuck in my own head
I’m as outward as I am in
Reality erased and replaced
Raise your hands
To the sky my friend
Surrender
Let it sink in
Surrender
Just let it sink in
I don’t trust myself
Or anyone else
I don’t trust myself
And honestly
I’m afraid of the things that I can’t see
In a room pitch black
Will I ever feel good again
Quit second guessing
This is out control
Will I ever feel good again?
Will I ever be golden?
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2. |
You, Mannequin
03:58
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I’m not sorry for the things that I’ve done
Well I’m never gonna go back no
The taste of dirt is all I know
My buzz wore off long ago
I’m a prisoner I suppose
I’m living when I shouldn't be
I’m living with a ghost
I’m not falling for your tricks again you mannequin
I am rearranged and running out of luck
I’m prolonging the inevitable ending that’s in store for us
So beat me into the ground
Just beat me into the ground
We are at the end of the world
The books abandoned
Our faith forgotten
And all this language is broken
This infrastructure is withered and rotten
I let you slip through my conscious
I try to teach them it’s no use
They refuse to see the truth
A spector in the mist
You’re a specter in the mist
A mirage at a distance
A memory that never existed
We’re at the end of the world
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3. |
Smoke Eyes
03:52
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Petals peeling back and forth forever
Collide and scrape your mind
There’s geometric patterns
Between the real and the divine
Rest your head on the bars
While beating the horse
And rot in the cage you made
They ignore us
There’s no need to communicate
There’s more to us than we see
I’m sick of talking!
So much talking!
It’s time to change
Our words to actions
And actions to history
Put in the effort
You get what you give
Machine made Dreams
made for you and me
Its sink or swim
Everybody wants to win
We are gods in the way
What they want is a palace
High above the land
To live on as prosthetic legends
Do you understand
They feed on the populations
Limitless potential of man
While owning the air we breathe
Theyre coming for your collection
We’re just god
We’re just gods in the way
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Pocketsand Brooklyn, New York
2-piece alternative metal from Brooklyn.
Chase plays drums
Don plays guitars
We both yell
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