Digging the hole. Deeper inside.
Scratching at the scab. Revealing all I am.
I've become the sore. Shrinking inside the skin.
Corrosive chemicals burn the image in.
There's no replacement for what I have lost.
Denying this internal Holocaust.
I've got a way to laugh it all off. I just pretend I'm already gone.
I've got a way to laugh it all off. I just pretend I'm already dead.
Looking at what I used to be before I left myself
for the fabricated promises that were in my head.
It was never real. I could never feel. There was never hope
just the hands around my neck that I beg to choke.
Looking back I was never sad, but I never really laughed.
I never lived a life it was paved over in a night.
I could never love. I could never hate. There is nothing left.
I'm Just a corpse that I suffocate.
Gimmie me my fix.
Gonna throw fits.
Gonna to slit wrists.
Gonna to shoot this.
Gonna wreck all of this.
I've given up now. Fallen too far down.
Bleeding from my soul. Given up control.
My heart is turning black. It shows on my face.
Keep breaking my back. Keep turning away.
The industrial rock heavyweights return with their first album in over 20 years, produced by John Fryer (Nine Inch Nails, Cocteau Twins). Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 16, 2022