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1. |
Vacuum
05:13
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One day I woke to a split in the sky.
First the sound, a tearing and a sigh.
Then blue opened into red
which opened into Black.
That last sunrise would be dramatic, wouldn't it?
Like it knew it was a poem.
I thought it would be fast
But of course,
The universe, in it's infinite sense of humor,
Let us ruminate on it.
The world ended slow,
A lot of sweat and grimace,
A lot of vibration and sudden clarity.
And then blood.
Even at the end we had our plans
And even at the end the universe
still
didn't
give
a
fuck.
Strange, to be used to this apocalypse.
A whistle, a hiss, a crack,
A pinch and a slump
And I shuffle along with the rest.
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2. |
Chorus of Gray Fire
09:28
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There was never any grass
Civilization burns too hot to burn forever.
There was never any grass.
Strange, to be beautiful without adornment.
Most don't think that such nothingness can burn,
but the gray that follows is not near as serene.
The fire cracks and screams like sirens
as the brush blazes and the dust remains as still as it ever was.
When the gray crumbles and falls, the dust will accept it.
But it really has no choice.
The fire burns hot.
Too hot,
Eventually it will burn itself out.
And the dust will be back in its place.
Waiting for that next gray fire.
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3. |
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Our fingers stretch long, and carve swathes of earth from it’s resting place.
We nourish the soil and the soil nourishes we and now
We have outgrown you.
For epochs we have grown in the deep dark places,
In the underbrush and the loam.
We proffer ourselves to every corner of this, our earth.
We were born in conjunction with it and saw your forms rise from the ocean,
Back when we were vast and the sun feared us.
Those days will come again soon.
Our fingers stretch long and drink up your despondency,
You have done this to yourselves,
And we will leave you behind.
Now the great rains come,
And the seas swell and the sky darkens like your hearts.
Our age has come again.
Our fingers stretch long and absorb your choking shouts for answers.
And we will loom, monstrous and creaking,
denying you solace.
Suffocate the sky with our universal veils.
We will not forget you,
You will feed us for a time.
Absorbed into the colony.
And by the end
you will (w)(b)e(l)come death.
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A Moment of Clarity Recordings Colorado
Small label based out of Colorado, focused on pursuing unique sonic landscapes, and using them to reform the world around us.
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