THE END IS NIGH

Somehow the summer has transformed to autumn, burnished leaves and wildfires marking the transition. Times being what they are, I think it’s important to disconnect from despair now and then… in the untamed surf of the lost coast, in the forests and hills, in a thick stack of books…

And yes… surrounded by noise-making machines, playing and tapping and pounding and shrieking out a retort to the indifferent gristmill of existence threatening to grind us all into dust.

Production is wrapping up on Antapex Arc, with only a few tracks left to finish. I’ve decided to keep the final mixes quiet until the release so I won’t be posting anymore demos (though if you know me by now you also know I could change my mind, ha!)

Instead, I’m dropping the full and complete lyrics below. Conceivably some minor changes may occur in the final phase, but if you’re curious as to the tone and bent of the new record, have a peek.

001 MONSTERS // WITHOUT THE MASKS THE MONSTERS ARE EASY TO SEE. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE.

002 THE HOUSE OF GOD // THERE IS NO HEART IN THE HOUSE OF GOD THERE IS NO GOD IN THE HEART OF MAN MISPLACED FAITH IN THE LIE IN THE BLOOD MISPLACED FAITH IN THE LIE WE ARE ALL CORPSES WAITING TO DIE WE ARE ALL CORPSES WAITING TO DIE

003 TRANSFORM TO RUIN // BLUR THE FACTS INTO OBLIVION INCOMPREHENSION TO ADAPT DOCUMENTS FOR THE SHREDDER CHAOS IN THE MATH NERO AND HIS VIOLINS SEX AND VIOLENCE I SAW IT IN THE PAPERS IN THE MASS PRODUCTION MACHINE COPPING OUTRAGE ON DEMAND COUNTERFEIT SUSTENANCE RARE EARTHS SMART PHONES TAKING SELFIES FROM THE PLASTIC PATCH

004 DEATHWAVE // NO EBB IN THE DEATHWAVE, NO CLEMENCY FOR THE IGNORANT. NO TURNING BACK NOW. THIS IS WHAT IS. WE ARE INSIDE YOU, WE ARE BECOME YOU. WE TIRE OF YOU. THOUGHTLESS GRAVITY-BOUND CREATURES OF LITTLE SIGNIFICANCE, YOUR TIME IS OVER. (run along now)

005 DREAM ARC // PAINT YOUR FACE IN ASH. HOWL AT THE DEMON MOON. NO MORE WINDMILLS OR SUN-CATCHERS. WE ARE SHARPENED KNIVES AND BARED TEETH. A BLIGHT ON THE HOUSE OF THE WICKED. HOOF MARKS IN THE DIRT. FEAR IN THE DUST, THE WIND RATTLES THE SKELETON TREES. SEVEN SEASONS OF PLAGUE. DEAD LOCUSTS, ROTTING SEED. COUNTING THE COST, THE MONEY-LENDERS IN THE TEMPLE. HANDSHAKES IN THE BACK ROOM, THROW THE BODIES IN THE RIVER. ALL OF THIS OR EVERYTHING. ALL OF THIS OR EVERYTHING. (sing your dreams, as loud as you can. the sound of their demise will be magnificent.)

006 THE MACHINES THAT FEED YOU ARE THE BEASTS THAT EAT YOU  

007 LIES // THE LIES WILL KILL YOU. OR SOMEONE WILL.

008 THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE BUT I AM STILL ASLEEP

009 FOXES’ BLOOD // THE LEAVES IN THE GRASS. THE FOXES IN THE MEADOW. THE BLOOD ON THE BEAKS OF THE BIRDS. THIS IS WHAT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR. THE END OF THE LINE. WHAT’S YOURS IS MINE. THE VAPOUR TRAIL IN THE SKY. THE RUBBLE IN THE FIELD. THE MONSOON IN THE DISTANCE. THE GRACE OF ANGELS IN YOUR GRASP, AND THE LIES OF THE DEVILS IN YOUR EAR. RUIN IS THE FRUIT OF YOUR LABOR, DEATH IS A WHISPER ON THE VINE.

010 CASCADES //

011 MULTIPLE PATHS TO THE SAME END // SO GLAD THAT YOU COULD MAKE IT (evacuate the room – cellphone silence) EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL (tell the kids to shut the fuck up) WE KNOW WHAT’S BEST (you think you know better?) KEEP ON KEEPING ON, AS IF THERE WAS ANY OTHER WAY. MAKING THE WORLD SAFE FOR THE ANOINTED. GILDED WHISPERS AND GOLDEN PARACHUTES. SETTING FIRES UNTIL THERE’S NOTHING LEFT TO BURN. THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS. THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS.

012 THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP THIS, GO AHEAD AND TRY /// FLESH IN THE TEETH OF THE BROKEN MACHINE THE BLOOD AND THE BILE THAT FUELS IT UNSEEN ONE BY ONE THE WILLING ARE BENT CONSUMPTION MALFUNCTION THE REASON IS SPENT THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP THIS THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP THIS GO AHEAD AND TRY

013 THE VIBRATION IN THE WALLS IS AN ARMY APPROACHING // THE LAST FOOTSTEPS IN THE GARDEN YELLOW RIBBONS FLUTTER IN THE BREEZE I SAW EVERYTHING RUNNING UP THE HILL WHERE THE DEAD TREES PERCH A TANG OF SMOKE AND DUST ON THE HORIZON IN THE SUN KISSED HOLLOWS WHERE THE BIRDS FLEE AND THE FORESTS FALL BENEATH THE FEET OF THE MACHINES

014 THE UNHINGED AFTER // WAKING UP TO THE FAILURE THE WORDS ON THE PAGE ARE A CYPHER FOR THE LIE THERE’S A RAGE IN THE UNDERNEATH LONGING TO BE FREE A VIOLENCE IN THE BROKEN PLACES WE DON’T CARE TO SEE BUT I SEE CHAOS IS AN ANGRY GOD CHAOS IS AN ANGRY GOD I CAN’T SEE IT HAPPENING I CAN’T SEE IT HAPPENING BUT IT’S HAPPENING

015 FROM LOGIC TO EPILEPSY

“in itself, every idea is neutral… or should be; but man animates ideas, projects his flames and flaws into them; impure, transformed into beliefs, ideas take their place in time, take shape as EVENTS: so the trajectory is complete, from logic to epilepsy… There is no form of intolerance, of proselytism or ideological intransigence which fails to reveal the bestial substratum of enthusiasm. Once man loses his faculty of indifference he becomes a potential murderer; once he transforms his idea into a god… the consequences are incalculable.” E.M. Cioran

016 MONUMENT // this annihilation is a monument to dead men with dead ideas

017 ANNIHILATION ARC //  EYES FLICKER NERVES TWITCH EVERY WORD IS A DAGGER THE NIGHT BARES HER CRIMSON TEETH CLOSE THE LOOP THE CAR IS WAITING OUTSIDE BLANK THE WINDOWS SHUT THE DOORS THE FUTURE IS NO LONGER ALIVE THE FUTURE IS NO LONGER ALIVE THE WALLS PULSE STARING INTO THE SCREEN SECURITY CODE LOCKOUT FUCKING THE ALREADY FUCKED A WHITE PHOSPHORUS AFTERBLUR STEELY MEN IN IMMACULATE SUITS BLOOD ON THE CUFF JUST A LITTLE PUSH SCRAPE MY PALMS IN THE DUST THE ASPHALT IS ON FIRE THE ASPHALT IS ON FIRE THE FUTURE IS NO LONGER ALIVE

018 EVERYTHING YOU LOVE IS DEAD OR DYING //

019 LAST PROPHETS ///  A SONG OF CRUCIFIXION AT THE END OF DAYS IN THE FINAL HOUR THE EMPTY PROPHETS BEND TO THE WIND THE CLOCK CARVES A CROOKED PATH THROUGH THE PAINTED CIRCLES OF THE ANTHROPOCENE A WARNING IN MATCHSTICK RIDDLES SLOGANS FOR THE WASTED DECADES THE FALLACIOUS HOPE OF A GILDED STATE THE WHEELS ARE BROKEN ON THE BACKS OF THE CHAINED THE PATRIARCHS OF A DYING AGE THE EMPIRE DROWNED BENEATH THE WAVES NO RESURRECTED GODS AND NO ONE TO SAVE

020 BLURRED POINTS ON THE EXTINCTION CURVE// THE PATH THAT IS MADE FROM THE PRIMACY OF THE WILL IS A SERPENT’S MAZE PAINTED IN THE ASH THAT RIDES ON THE WIND OF DESTRUCTION. WHEN THE BEASTS THAT REMAIN PRAY TO THE MASTERS OF THE FIELDS, THE RUINS WILL UPHOLD YOUR RIGHT TO ANNIHILATION. 

021 THIS IS ALL THERE IS// ANOTHER BODY FLOATS ON THE RIVER IN SHIMMERED PALLID REFLECTIONS OF THE SUN THE SUN THE ONLY SUN THE ONLY SUN YOU’LL EVER KNOW AND THE BREEZE IS CHURNING DUST ACROSS THE WORLD WHILE THE GREAT EMPTY MACHINE COUNTS THE TOLL IS IT WORTH THE PRICE? THIS IS ALL THERE IS

022 LAST OBSCENITIES /// TRYING TO FIND THE PERFECT EPITHET BUT THE WORDS ARE SHIT NO POINT TO THE ARGUMENT WHEN NO ONE BELIEVES IN IT GOD HELP US… BUT THERE’S NO GOD JUST AN EMPTY EXPANSE WHERE THE IDIOTS DANCE AND THE TRUTH IS A LIGHTNING ROD

FUCK

023 ANTAPEX ARC // A WARNING. A KISS. A WELCOME DESTRUCTION. A PRETTY LITTLE POISON FLUSH WITH THE BLOOD OF FOUR BILLION YEARS ON HER LIPS. ALWAYS FALLING INTO THE SAME TRAPS, BEAUTIFUL PRISONS. DEATH IS PAINTED IN THE ECHOES OF FARAWAY STARS.  MURDER IN THE GRAVITY WELLS OF SOLITARY SUNS. WHAT HOPE IS THERE? THOUGHTLESS BUT ALIVE. TO BE MORE. TO SEE MORE. TO UNDERSTAND THE ANSWERS. TO MOURN THE QUESTIONS. ALL THAT EVER WAS. A FADED STAIN ON THE CONCRETE.