1. |
Prelude: New Rites
02:56
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Your sanctum, reduced to a tomb.
Your spirit, weary and bruised.
Flowers on a table in a room of make believe.
Your sanctum has no steeple, but it's there when you sleep.
Dead flowers on your bedside, in a room ordained by thieves.
Your love, never present, but I feel it when I dream.
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2. |
Submission
03:39
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Truth wanes and fades. All light is lost. Every action rehearsed, every meaning is reversed.
Submission, our only worth. Old bodies, condemned to dirt.
No meaning. No sense of time. It's all slipping as we fall behind.
Truth wanes and fades in caverns of our fate.
Submission, our only worth. Old bodies, condemned to dirt. New pressures, no time to heal. I loved you but you're not real.
Every new shift in memory, identity, absolves me from the sins of this life. We are guilty of being machines for the omnipresent body of capital. We deny life by denying ourselves the hopes to be anything but a tool for profit. Completely complacent, we reify the mechanisms of our oppression.
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3. |
Violence
04:13
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You call it violence, I call it change. Any new ripple strikes you like a wave. Hang up your figures so you can be saved from the world. Your inaction leaves you afraid and ashamed.
Where'd you go? Leave the light on, cause nobody's home.
In your life nothing's quite right. And when you die, would you be satisfied?
We need violence to destroy the hold. Caught in the hairs of their capital throes. Revolution is an ember that starts in the soul. We need action to bring all of us back to the fold.
In your life nothing's quite right. And when we die, will we be satisfied?
Where'd you go? Leave the light on, cause nobody's home.
Where'd you go? Leave the light on, cause nobody's home.
Nobody's home.
You call it violence, I call it hope. We need destruction to bring all of us back to the fold.
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4. |
Crisis
04:30
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We were cold when we were crucified. We can stand alone or just stand in line. That's just life. It's what they'd recommend. Mindfulness for your friendly dead; forget time.
People born. People die. Trying to live, trying to try to just get by. It's just a day, it's just another day of wasted faith in life. We still go all this time, we get lost in lies, we get lost in the mind of fate.
They were cold when they were crucified. We just stood alone and watched from line. That's just life. It's what they'd recommend. Mindfulness for your friendly dead; forget time.
People born. People die. Trying to live, trying to try to just get by. It's just a day. It's just another day; a crisis of faith in life.
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5. |
Baptism By Fire
03:03
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In fire we are born. From the fire we are torn.
In fire we are born. From the fire we are torn.
On a razors edge we stand, holding our hearts in our hands. Scaling bodies to get away. Darkness is refuge in the fray.
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6. |
Towards Death
03:41
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In the silence you'll see a truth that props up everything. It is fleeting, it is cursed. It's a privilege we still mourn.
It's still hopeless, we're still searching for our dead, and laying them to rest. We're still choking and covering our heads, running towards the master's bed.
In time we'll disappear, all our love and all our fear. Not even the ruins will remain. All lives will merge into the fray.
Towards death, towards the violent mean. Towards destruction of commodities.
It's not hopeless, when we can craft an end. Nature holds us and we can make amends. We're still dying and need not feel defeat. It's a circle, the spirit can't retreat.
Fear haunts our fragile lives. Death taunts us, telling us to hide. Towards death and towards that darkened end. Towards death and towards all the condemned. We will rise again.
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7. |
Estranged
05:19
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We want to find a way, a reason. We work ourselves to death to mask our shame; penance for cowardice, penance for hate. Coerced into a life we can't escape.
Cutting your cloth with an axe. Produce to consume and never look back. Living to work, our timeless role. No time to question the logic they sold.
We bare all the guilt they gave us, chained by a truth that keeps us down.
Estranged from love and from ourselves. Towing a line so we don’t drown.
It’s a lifeless charade and we’re too scared to change.
All life, all thought, is filed down to dust.
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8. |
To Survive
04:48
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Can't surrender. Can't survive. Cover up our will to life. Forced to hide. Forced to strive for a meaning dictated by lies.
Now we walk side by side looking for love to commodify. Pacify our will to life--desperation to survive.
Crucified by moral pride. Tradition snuffed out all our fetal cries. And we cry. We still cry for a chance to survive.
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Clergy Edmonton, Alberta
Post-Punk from Canada's frigid and desolate north in Amiskwaciy Waskahikan (Beaver Hills House;
Edmonton).
Members:
Adrianna - Keys/Samples
Alejandro - Skins
Miranda - Bass
Porter - Guitar/Vox
Photo Cred: Alfredo Martinez
... more
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