Intronaut
EP • 2007
It's the stench that hits you first Then the provocative interior Sound is mangled beyond all mention With its source the object of confusion Held together by saints alone It's our home. It's our home This two ton beast devours gravel Shelters us from the elements The question always lingers Will she prevail? Never ending expanse of blue It's here we begin to sober As we slip the surly bonds of earth And touch the face of god...
Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025
A situation that's easily corrected But rarely thought of in advance All the technology ever dreamt of But here there is no light Hands up, here's the guns Where there is manslaughter There are also friends gather in the murk Sparse light has no appeal The overbearing darkness Would seem appropriate But does not our filth hide Faceless unimaginable keeper Red notes upon the doors An enigmatic whittler of fortune Exhausted by our prayers
Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 26, 2025
Here at the nucleus of it all The motive gathers steam The pistons begin to fire And light slowly illumes It's worked itself into a lather Full speed ahead The unstoppable force that suddenly Hits the immovable object Only this time there is no coy answer in science At this perfect moment We must start anew And hope for the best The engineer starts again The steel buckles Creation is undone Stopped in its tracking Truly profound. Deep Architecture
Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025
When the truth won't do And lies are so fulfilling Hollow words Beget hollow gestures Hollow gestures Beget hollow ventures This impulse that dictates our nature Drives us to dysfunction Belligerent apathy Belligerent apathy Belligerent apathy would suit us so much better But our motives are too impure
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Nov 09, 2025
Reflection Is but a stranger These strings set rigorous routine Cracks form, covering my body Weakened, blistered and torn apart Revisiting old wounds Completing the circle Once again Swollen eyes fixed on the prize We hang our heads in self-destructive triumph These fault lines A soul erosion Predictions never became so clear
Submitted by Warbringer — Nov 09, 2025
Derange the scale of trust With this animated prevarication That once passed for happiness Degenerate into character The clearest of all intentions Words drawn out Unfiltered A perception Untainted by logic We are such low things With null for a name And while we quietly become Imperceptible... We are such low things With null for a name The inner monologue exposed But this curtain is drawn closed
Submitted by Warbringer — Nov 09, 2025
Making allegations of questionable value How can you right what isn't wrong? All our preoccupations, all of out pretensions Placated to the point of retardation This distinction in unfakeable These flaws are unavoidable This is a hippopotomac landmass And we can't even coexist Automatons and our prehistoricisms
Submitted by The Void — Nov 09, 2025
Dazed with shovels in hands and gapaing faces But there's really no assistance needed The gluttons have already dug all our graves It's so hard to tell what is and isn't When contradictions are commonplace Souls stripped, sensors disabled, Maneuvered perceptions The will to foreknow is here But you don't have to use it Just live to breathe this ailing earth in death
Submitted by Finntroll — Nov 09, 2025
Life, stretched out landscape beneath my feet Time disintegrates in the palm of my hand Familiar roads reflect fortitude Ridden with fatigue Breaking through these layers Another layer of skin Tolerance slowly withers Lungs denied all air Choking myself once again Premonitions of failure, hinder action Burning these days Trying to retain, this balance
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Nov 09, 2025
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
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