CROWS

by cetascean

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about

CROWS 10 "
release date: March 20th/13
"5 tracks of punishing darkened anarchist crust. the ten inch comes complete with a hand screened poster and a twenty page fullsized 'zine. stylistically, this record runs the gambit between scandi dbeat and uk stenchcore. lyrically, the lines are drawn between rampant environmental destruction and the oppression of humanity's most marginalized populations, that all of us with privilege are implicated in."
Released by
Mercy of Slumber Records
mercyofslumberrecords@gmail.com
mercyofslumberrecords.com
What Is Making Us Sick Records
www.facebook.com/WHATISMAKINGUSSICK
whatismakingussick@gmail.com
Phobia Records (European Release)
www.phobiarecords.net

ALBUM ARTWORK BY ADAM KINDRED

credits

released 01 March 2013

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Track Name: mass extinction
‘...it was kind of a collective horror’
lips quiver, mouths open, await the demise
the bones of the earth rise blasphemous in the sky.
to suck the poison dry. clear cut stumps like gouged out eyes. in the light of day, the bodies are harvested. a tower of carcasses pay tribute to the age of progress.
a black mass circles, bearing witness to the atrocious.
crushed for control. utilized to death.
an entire species gripped with sickness, desperately propagating a winding darkness.
the old ways eradicated with calculated blood lust.
none will survive this continuing harvest.
we hang from the same walls.
it ends and begins with mass extinction.
Track Name: bled in
there’s a war inside, scream as it fades to black
but you’re not insane, and this time you’re not going back
cause you’re just a number, the doctor’s won’t listen and no one hears your screams
misdiagnosed, still with this war in your head
fuck this system where professionals lack the most basic form of human sympathy
more meds, a war in your head.
we’re all fucked.
Track Name: eminent domain
only fifteen when arrested. caught running in the wrong community. beaten without restraint, thrown in with the dogs, mindless depravity, a lesson taught in blood.
those who would be your judges, never trust the stewards of capitalist thought this is no story, this is this fucking city.
“give a hand up not a handout”
the iron fist talking. there is a trail of blood running out of sight. clean streets. sterilized, devoid of life.
there is a new trail of tears leading out of this playground for the rich. its always been clear who should be permitted to flourish. the eminent domain needs always to be perfected.
the minds of the masses divided and dissected.
the dyad maintained to benefit the infected.
eminent domain.
yeah motherfucker this is colonial canada.
i want to die. fuck this.
Track Name: crows
the murder rises in a blackened spiral, then descends with ancient ire. an empire built on faith strangled to pieces. black eyes watch all. they’ve seen the cycles; watched them fall. hail the cacophony. the feeding call to consume the liars begins with choice. hollow lives living hollow. nauseous minds, medicine swallowed. a dark mass circles the monoliths of the worthless. there are fingers breaking, reaching for gods, while the strength lies within us all. in the mirror is the face of the oppressor. eyes close, descend like crows. wipe out the empire, raze it to the ground. wipe out the empire, to begin again. to live again. reflected within the eyes of a crow, human kind is a winding shadow. gallow hung for old crimes. clawing the rope for more time. crows.
Track Name: malignant corridor
held in place by a tower of chains.the subjects restrained like locusts arranged. the technician approaches, hands of pendulum, face masked, cold as a column. displays the tools. there will be no anesthetic for the wounds. latex hands expose bone. reveal a cave of mind. nothing left but memory inside. malignant corridor leads to forgotten places. within ourselves are years of tumor. the ritual a measure to how far we have fallen as a species. operated on for human curiosity. another history annihilated by man’s touch. a message in the eyes of the worthless. there are other ways to the surface. ritual autopsy reveals nothing except our own fate.
*dolphin slaughter recorded two thousand seven using under water microphones. used without permission and without endorsing source material.