1. |
The Beating Plate
09:12
|
|||
|
So is dark the forest. Forest green for me. Forest black for you. You are not rural as sickle blade, but city-made. Town stock of the lowest grade. Panels break under great weight. In silence sitting, in silence fade.
Hammer, hammer the beating plate. Hammer, moans come from the starting gate. All come are underweight and fake.
And pleasure is a simple task. Make it stay. Make it last. A life in bending in the winds, but only choice.
Hammer, hammer the bells ring. Hammer, hammer is forming. All come to understand kin.
Hammer, hammer the beating plate. Hammer, hammer the bleating sheep. Hammer, console the sisters weep. All come are hungry and weak.
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
Did you forget your charm so quickly? Did your holiday unfold? Did the findings of your own home make your fingers cold from earth that was so wicked, and earth that was so hard? The framing of the thicket, looking through the bars.
And, "bold is bold" your father sang as he pulled in all the wood. "The man you thought your friend was, is a man that never could. And he threatens at the sidelines, never cheering only moans. The sight of spirits quicken until you are alone."
So build your life in secret or shape your body, still. A man without his money will never get his fill. Did you remember every morning? The generosity. Or do you only think of evenings? it saddens you to see.
Now, sitting in your chamber. Your book upon the floor. Written in a black ink: words that still adore. Compulsive in their grammar, but fraying at the seams. Poetry of lovers and animosity.
It's value is impermanent, sleeping soundly in the dirt. Guilty heads are nodding now, far away from hurt. Nothing's ever painful and nobody is listening. The world is slowing greater, still, pigs dream of many things.
|
||||
3. |
Careless Aphorisms
06:56
|
|||
|
We are not brothers. We are not brothers, anymore. Festers the lunacy. Rusting the tools of war. And all the words you find: careless aphorisms, interim piece of mind. All the words you say: careless aphorisms and selfish hate.
Possess the shepherd calling and lead the flock to fire. Drawing from empty vessels. A pride in echoed choir.
|
||||
4. |
Rise
06:34
|
|||
|
Sick trees do surround me. Blades stay in my side. Wild hope in abandon. I am calmed by the light. Comes the dawn for the 'morrow, and the panic sets in. My hands are grenades and my mind is the tomb of Christ. When do I rise, again?
Sweet darkness in shadow contrast on the sheet. Until the pale flesh I hold, until the pale flesh grows cold and leaves me the soiled one with holes in my palms. A crown of thorns that I've gathered and kneeled toward love. When do I rise, again?
|
||||
MODERNITY England, UK
If you like MODERNITY, you may also like:
supported by 7 fans who also own “Cherished Simulacra”
Strange and beautiful, one of my favorite from Trhä and that's high praise. This project is amazing.
go to album
DEMO II
by The Sun’s Journey Through The Night
supported by 7 fans who also own “Cherished Simulacra”
This is one hell of a demo I have to say. The atmosphere and build ups are just perfect, doesn't get any better than this honestly.
go to album
supported by 6 fans who also own “Cherished Simulacra”
This album sounds like it was recorded inside of a dream. Soothing melodies, distant vocals and amazing beats - Endlhëtonëg is simply something else
go to album
Emptied Animal
by William Ryan Fritch
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 15, 2014
go to album
Blood Oath
by RITUALS OF THE DEAD HAND
Crushing doom with eerie, unholy vocals, Rituals of the Dead Hand are the sound of a grim midnight séance.
go to album
Stumpfer Gegenstand
by Grotto Terrazza
Equally influenced by folk noir, beat poetry, and experimental industrial, this German producer builds unsettling, fascinating worlds.
go to album
Chasing The Path Of The Hidden Master
by Lamp of Murmuur
supported by 6 fans who also own “Cherished Simulacra”
Easily the greatest modern black metal band. Hail
go to album
