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Crust Список групп раздела | crust punk, anarcho-punk, d-beat, crashercrust, neocrust/dark hardcore |
Метки: crust, hardcore, stenchcore |
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#1 |
vinyl 12"
Репутация: 662
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![]() Сырой и грязный бристольский краст. Мощный саунд в духе Extinction of Mankind, Instinct of Survival и им подобным, английский акцент, темное пиво, все дела. В сети гуляет их дебютный альбом Songs Written Before Jumping Out Of An Eight Storey Window 2009 года, выпущенный на UNDERGROUND MOVEMENT. myspace текстыMONORCHID
Retards backed by rich cowards Degenerate claims of supremacy Those real traitors to those who died, Are entranced by an Austrian worm Mein Kampf mit meiner Lust für meine Nichte, und meine Liebe für Jüdische Komponisten Ihre Liebe ist blind… Meaningless wastes of life and time When they had used you They would dispose of you Spurious attempts to rationalise hate When they had used you They would dispose of you Closet perverts and sociopaths When they had used you They would dispose of you Long knives TSUNAMI OF ONE We go now kill I don’t share a mind with those others Now I've tasted of that despair There’s a black shape inside my head That’s eating its way into the light I’ve seen the deep abysmal truth Where it all goes quiet and slow My lips are flecked with the salt of tides That washed away all I know No, no…we go now kill PEACE UP A ROPE The scrying of right wing scholars Is guiding unsteady old hands As we move into the end of all times now It’s best that we make the plans To talk peace would be against god This book can show us the way Four horsemen stand at the gates now We must bomb open the seals Peace up a rope Behold a pale horse BLACKEST BLUES Opened the door to a suicide note from god His writing betrayed no hints of loss So I waved goodbye to all the happy things Though what they were now seems quite unclear “Why this is hell nor am I out of it” My picture is framed now in a different way I move within final parameters The spotlight on me is a cone of black Getting down to those knife at wrist blues Settling in for the gun at temple blues Holding the pin for the grenade in hand blues Clutching the bottle for those pill in mouth blues No one will ever know No one can ever know DO THIS IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME Partake of the holy bread Feed those who feed the rats Partake of the bloody wine That fills the craters and the trenches Plough the bodies back into the mud Plough it to the back of your mind Ask yourself are these really all bodies Or are they the symbols of the bodies Ask yourself are they really all dead Or are they just symbolic of death Ask yourself is this the body of Christ Or is this just symbolic of Christ Ask yourself is this really murder Or is it just symbolic murder Ask yourself is that blood on your hands Or is it only wine that was spilled Transubstantiation LEAVE ME TO THE DOGS Leave me to the dogs I dont want to know Leave me to the dogs Fuck this hellish charade This world is red in tooth and claw And they wonder why it fails But we are falsely instructed By those unfit to our know our lives Blame us when we rage against Against when it falls apart Stand at odds with the whole of this world Can no longer accept its charge We are on the outside But not looking in Let the curs rip and tear it away Let them gorge on weary meat It all means nothing, nothing at all THE LIGHT IS RETREATING The Light is retreating Superstition evolved Ritualised fear of unknown Sacrifice demanded Hecatomb of the young Fodder for the altars Replace the animal with the human And ensure war gods appeased Battlefields of burnt offerings Death claims victory on both sides Blood once made our crops grow Blood once made the sun rise Blood now makes the oil flow Blood now makes our machine run HEGEL PLATZ It’s an easy step to pile on the bodies The flames were so strong and beguiling Your cause bays next for the author The air is so heady and tense To you it feels like your doing the right thing Written words are the voices of the dead Skin lifts away just like paper And you made mouths fall silent To ensure no one is reading Then No one is thinking Then nothing is moving You want to make history …………stop End all discussion Make yours the one truth To Silence debate All thought must ………………….stop Skin lifts away like paper Paper drifts away like skin WHET THE SCYTHE Whet the scythe And all of this is rent in twain Whet the scythe Your Money turns back to trees Whet the scythe All of this collapses in To a single point A single point that ends with you Culling blade for your straw dogs Your horizons red rises to meet you Whet the scythe Blood that drives your little machine Whet the scythe Gets emptied out into little streams Whet the scythe All of this is gone forever False life you built Torn asunder returned to ash KILLSTORM Rise with the flags Go down at the guns Bombarded to fuck Cast into the void Bullet ridden Pound human beings into hell Bullet ridden Immersed in the killstorm Its never ever enough No overkill will do Murderous hard-on Everyone gets done THE EXITS ARE BLOCKED No one knows you’re here Until you don't turn up for work Until you don’t pay your bills Until you fail to comply Just fall on that sword Let red tears forge the path Clutch those snakes to your breast The exits are blocked Your exits are blocked Except one DEAD MEAT FOR THE WILDERNESS They are pulling out your guts Targets have failed to be met They are pecking out your eyes The caress of your wife’s gone cold They are dragging you around the clearing The children see no love in your arms Eye sockets pool with moonlight Your stories make “friends” turn away Dead Meat Fof the Wilderness Dead meat for the wilderness The caw caw and squabble for scraps Dead meat for the wilderness Feral burial bones scatter and gleam REACH FOR THE THROAT I call on the beasts from the woods To oversee and maintain your despair Put my fingers to the switch in your head Turn off all your hopes and dreams Reach for the throat Voider Reach for your throat I am the Voider WHAT AM I AGAINST THE DOLLAR? What am I against the dollar? What value is assigned to me? What am I against the dollar? Where do you stand against the mighty cabal? Capstone is lowering Capstone is lowering Capstone is lowering Capstone is lowering Economy of blood robots, gears of industry grind over your bones We all swallow the pill and we all tread the mill Useful idiots or useless eaters All absorbed by the great machine [свернуть] ![]() BULLET RIDDEN - 2009 - Songs Written Before Jumping Out Of An Eight Storey Window |
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