1. |
Suffer The Breath
07:07
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Since Napoleonic wars raged in brutality.
Sweden was cursed and born in neutrality.
Guilt of desire and the corruption of fates.
Migrate to the north where life captivates.
Raised with perfection and the pressure of war.
Encumbered with will and the fate of a whore.
Crush the almighty to silence the pain.
With turrets of steel and bullets like rain.
Debris of the fallen disfigure the shore.
Along the crest of the waves that bleed evermore.
Fearsome mortality adrift in its flight.
In the mists of the dawn glows the rapture of night.
Sky torn asunder with ammunitions assault.
Like the cattle to slaughter and their forehead to bolt.
Adorned in victory and the medals to praise.
Yet a pale horse rides where the honor displays.
What is the will when the stigma is death?
When you temper the life, but you Suffer The Breath.
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2. |
Pre-Apocalypse
04:22
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Loathsome, Frightful, Shameless, Pitiful.
Riding through the boneblack, comes a chaos that struggles with hatred collapsing inward.
With whispered fear and cinders wrath, forever dimming, desolate and heartless.
Forgotten passions extinguished immediate and inglorious into funeral pyres.
Uncrowned Kings sullen with gnashed teeth into clenched tenuous hands.
Where eyes wept sunken into the dull sky, all things that dwelled were consumed.
War for the moment was no more and left faithful to one thought of death.
With a piteous and perpetual moan, the meager crept in feeble breath.
And heroes were left with nothing, but to champion the fall of neglect.
Who’ll abide through the terror when all, but hope is lost?
Perhaps the damned and the soulless will hazard their fate when they’re crossed?
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3. |
Pyrrhic Victory
06:03
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Burdened souls share a desire to be with the lost.
Letting go of the hurt is the shimmer, not the pain or the cost.
Enflamed in the shade of the past with doubts to consume.
Tortured like walking through a burning star within its radiant plume.
The loss felt is unplanned yet pleasant with a numbing touch.
As if awakened to the cold with pins and needles like a rancid crutch.
In the dark, awake yet unrelenting dread, entombed through the night.
To breathe is a burden that surrounds you, compulsive with fright.
Why is life so hard when death comes with such relative ease?
Entrenched in your mind with the scars of your past, the present cannot appease.
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4. |
Sins of our Fathers
06:11
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The skyline warped where the sunlight drowned.
With pick and axe into sullen ground.
The soil burdened in congressional scorn.
As households ashen are ripped and torn.
Illuminate alike Independence Day.
Where shattered dreams explode decay.
American legends in glory displaced.
The shine and the luster of life is erased.
Triumphant lives are born and praised.
Then sacrificed, battered and set a blazed.
Don’t ask questions of the unresolved.
And with myopic fear the wicked called.
“I am the sin of my father, we are not the Sins of Our Fathers”.
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5. |
The Pride Goeth
05:10
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With hate and shame the passion of life is embossed.
The pride we feel is tepid, petty, emboldened to fade and it’s lost.
The moments surreal surrendered in fear of the joy.
Like a failure you cherish and nurture the pain to destroy.
Wounded, scorned to swallow the bitter emotion of time.
The love you feel is hollow and empty yet real and sublime.
The hurt you share with the guilt of the hell you subdue.
You crush the will and the spirit with pleasure a new.
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Downcaste Palatine, Illinois
Death-doomed Northern Illinois power trio. Thick riffs, thundering bass, powerful grooves, and guttural vocals create
beguiling extreme metal for a pre-apocalyptic society.
Kevin Miller: Guitar, Vocals
Jon Graef: Guitar; bass - recorded
Photo by Mel Flowers
... more
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