1. |
Reinassance
01:11
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|
My hands
like shovels
sunk in the soil
I’m digging
my early grave
the maggots
curling beneath
the filth,
the filth underneath
my fingernails is
rotting
I carve the stone with my teeth,
smash my head against this nameless tomb
in hopes to find what remains
of my bones in this sterile land
And when I find
this carcass
I will know
if something
is still hot
and bleeding;
is it cold
or beating?
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2. |
White Noise
03:20
|
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|
I’ve seen it all through a million crystal lenses,
I have seen everything through the window glass.
Numb
sitting through all the shit that I am
swallowing through my eyes.
How I wish that I were away
You, you can’t avoid
feeling the stench of your rotting brain.
Blank
is my mind every time I try to
think for myself.
How I wish that I were
Away, amidst the sea
Somewhere beside someone
who’ll be there for me.
I want to think for myself,
cut the old limbs off,
but I can’t find the way to stand up.
Fuck this white noise.
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3. |
New Lies
03:30
|
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|
Alleged winds of change bring us rotten stink of yesteryears,
daily grind crushing our feeble brains out.
Everything seems to be a consequence of choices that
apparently we never made being conscious of
this damn madhouse.
Every time a wall is taken down is just to be
replaced by a taller one with sharper barbed wire.
Paranoid, inside a shell of hysterical lies,
insanity is the consequence of living round the edges of
this damn madhouse.
Show me your face
let me get out of this nightmarish life
not all the bars can be seen;
some still live in between
Wake up
I have been metaphoric enough already, so let me get this straight:
This is not a time to be desperate, but for working this out together,
cause in a time when either nihilism or indifference seem like the only answers,
there’s only one thing left we can do:
rise.
Orange faces,
floating around us,
evil as ever,
smiling
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4. |
The Hunt
03:03
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|
She is flesh and bone and air
as she steadily head home,
morning air cold, first light is born
and she walks.
She is dream and blood and ink
as the pack slowly closes in
-an illusion. They’re approaching.
Under the blunt artificial lights
her shadow paints the floor,
and she feels their breath
hot upon her neck.
Fingers crossed
on her back,
wishing to get home.
Souls are black,
she pretends
for tomorrow.
Cars pass along,
we look away
history repeats itself:
our silence builds a wall
and behind it
the wolfpack keeps hiding.
How many more
have to walk home
keys as fingers
-cold metal pressed against their palms;
how many more have to die?
Some say
she should’ve stayed home,
she should’ve stayed safe,
she would’ve lived a full life,
afraid.
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SEN HORX Bilbao, Spain
Banda de metal de Bilbao formada en 2016, nacida de la unión de músicos de las bandas Enkore, Haxotz, Empty Files y D-Rais,
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