1. |
Perception
02:52
|
|||
Perception is reality.
I've ran myself into a rut
I'd rather die than bloom where I've been planted
My sight is clouded by visions of myself drowning
repeatedly in a bottomless swamp of misery
and self-loathing.
Misery, self-loathing
There will be no miracles here.
Yet another day, 24 closer to death
I can't bear to open my eyes, let alone look ahead.
You can't see what I see, so you can't understand
how I think.
My perception is BLEAK.
I'm a dead plant, stop watering me.
|
||||
2. |
||||
The burdens of this life are heavy.
They crush the strongest of men.
The weight bears down, incapacitating all after a time.
There comes a point where you feel you can't bear
it for another moment.
You will lose everything.
x2
Again, and again.
Daydreaming of something to quench my appetite.
Go to sleep feeling hopeless and you will dream that
you never ever wake up.
STEPHEN MASHBURN:
I fall asleep for a time
Michael:
For a time
STEPHEN MASHBURN:
Happiness is plentiful in a place where you're
still with me.
my mind creates a flourishing landscape laden with
beautiful company.
Michael:
I am happy for a time.
I am happy, for a time.
Until I awake.
It's alright, we all go a little mad sometimes.
An awful act my mind constantly prompts me to do
An impulse, a twitch - a pulse that's always
throbbing through.
I'd be lucky to die, but I refuse.
And so I succumb to a coma.
Entirely bereft of dreams.
Robbed of the only pitiful form of escape I
have ever had.
My only company is the incessant beeping
of the machines.
I don't know who could have possibly found me
But there is someone, or something that can't be seen.
Life, like all things, is meaningless.
No longer alone - just hopeless.
This is what it means to be defeated.
All stores, once in surplus, now depleted.
Go to sleep
Wake up
Live life.
We are hopeless.
And such is the reason why
I will stay asleep.
|
||||
3. |
||||
I'd like to think that my life is perfect
But without you it'd be no where near it.
I hold an intense fire in my heart.
It burns for you, so I hope you'll hear it.
When you love something, you have to hold it tight
Get a solid grip and never let go.
Smother it until it can no longer breathe
Cover it up and never allow the world to see.
It must be kept a secret, covered and hidden from the
outside no matter from what view
Because there's nothing it could offer the world that
it couldn't just give to you.
It must be kept a secret, covered and hidden from the
outside no matter from what point view
Because there is absolutely nothing that it could offer
this world that it couldn't just give to you.
I've gained quite an obsession
It would be the definition of an understatement to
say that im obsessed.
Day after day I start with less and less.
I've reached the point where I've started with little
and you've still bested me
Stay for the most part quiet about my nicest
possession
Near nothing is left but I anticipate the day you
take the rest of me.
Or at least I think so.
My heart sputters.
What doesn't kill you doesn't make you stronger
I'm not dead, no, just fucking weak.
The fire dwindles, awaiting a rekindling never to come.
You think you own me?
It's not quite ownership.
Always acted on my motives, most dont notice
All the time and breath you put in, how could you
stomach to waste it?
I miss you so much, I get violently sick just
thinking about you.
Every time I close my eyes, I see your face.
It would be fine if you were mine, but that is
not quite the case.
(LUKE BOISMIER GUITAR SOLO)
Sometimes I go looking for things that aren't there
Searching for some sort of comfort because
the truth is
I know I'm a reasonable person, but these
expectations are not
Things always look perfect from the outside
of a window
But they aren't.
With each passing day, I'm being drained.
My heart goes cold.
What doesn't kill you doesn't make you stronger
'cause I'm not dead but I no longer love.
|
||||
4. |
Belligerence
03:53
|
|||
A cringe worthy existence
I find you indescribably repulsive
Absolutely appalling.
Doing what you please when you please, on a different
track than where the race is being held.
Composing your story on a sheet of paper that was
never part of the book
All for one, all for you
All that I can offer you is the animosity that you've
caused to fester inside of me.
This is what you wanted, this is what you
fucking asked for.
Don't you dare act so astounded.
Simply going through the motions
You don't deserve to travel the oceans
You thought that you deserved it, that you belonged
Of course you were wrong, unworthy all along
You thought that you had a strong body,
mind and heart
All you did was play the part, a fake from the start
Take the mask that you wear, and throw it away.
Take pride in something that you fucking do for
once in your life.
We find ourselves in a place most can only
venture to in dreams
Still discontent, somehow
Unaware of where you are
You're unaware of where you step
You heinous creature.
Taking advantage, take it for granted
Remember the reason you started.
What ever happened to pride?
It's alright to sin from time to time.
You don't deserve to wear the warrior's cloth.
If you're guilty of sin, make it pride and not sloth.
You drug the names of your loved ones to
an early grave.
A great price to pay for belligerence.
|
||||
5. |
||||
I don't blame anyone for their lack of care
I was born inconsequential and will surely die the same
Just a meaningless collection of particles
Would I be acknowledged less if I ceased to exist?
Define rhetorical.
Quite the contradictory question.
Would I be acknowledged less if I ceased to exist?
How could I be possibly be?
I never did exist.
Nulled, I never had a value.
You can't reduce me any more
For I am the presence of absence of worth
x2
(DANIEL BOISMIER)
A relatively meaningless collection of particles on a
relatively trivial speck of space dust that hardly has a
place on a dimensional plane
(KYLE MERTZ)
Taunted by dreams of amounting to something,
breathing.
I've been waiting to die, take me from this life
(Michael)
Nulled, I never had a value
Not a single time worth anything, so tell me how to
Deal with this, existential crisis
This epiphany I've had, that I'm the antithesis of..
Priceless.
|
||||
6. |
Forgotten (The Reach)
02:19
|
|||
Used to exhibit the texture of a rock, now much
more like cotton
To the core I've rotted
Forgive my psyche, it wreaks of a scent that
makes me vomit
Living my life, a bleak existence doomed to
be forgotten.
Each concluding day that passes, the reach
is less and less
The blanket of stars weighs down on me.
Doomed to be forgotten, just remember the
words that I speak
The only thing left to be felt is the feeling of defeat.
I don't wanna being forgotten but it's destined to be so
I wish the end upon myself but my casket seals slowly
A horribly vain effort to be remembered is what
keeps me going.
I've barely kept going.
The time drags on and on
Anxiously awaiting something
Reaching, but there's nothing to grab on to.
Another day passed, another phone call I never got.
A letter never sent, a thought that never
crossed your mind.
I'm on to you, all you god-damned snakes.
Squeezing me dry, what difference can a man make?
Once upon a time, I thought that I could
change the world.
Now I lay late with a blank face, accepting of my fate...
That I'll only be remembered as the man who
was forgotten.
The forgotten man, out of sight, mind, and reach.
For a forgotten man, it only gets more BLEAK.
|
||||
7. |
BLEAK
02:33
|
|||
The light at the end is a lie.
If my heart failed to beat and my blood refused to
pump through my veins as I lay down to sleep, what
would have been the reason for it in the first place?
The blood, or the beating?
Something follows me everywhere that I go
Something so hideous that it envelops everything
around me and contorts my perception into a dreary,
melancholic display.
Something that's just waiting for me to reach
the bottom.
And I'm almost there.
I should have known from the beginning.
I've been known to taunt the reaper, digging a hole
deeper every day, and prompting him to throw
the dirt to cover me.
Smothering, suffocating above ground, so BLEAK.
|
||||
8. |
The Sadist/
03:24
|
|||
You were God's great gift to the world, and I was
the only one who saw it
I exist in a place where the only contentedness is
found in discontent.
Tossed around, side to side
I would have loved you
Until the end of days.
I would have taken care of you
Until the end of days.
Anything you ever needed, or wanted me to do,
I would have done it
Without a single question.
But that never meant a single thing to you.
Remember when I would draw hearts on your hand?
I'm getting sidetracked again.
You were my best friend, the last one I'd expect
to abandon me.
Can you not see the blood on your floor?
From every time you gutted me, and tore my
heart from my core.
Put it back, but not quite in the right place.
You've always been sweet, but bitter is the taste that
you've left in my mouth, and a cloud over my head
where you once placed a crown.
When you look at me, what do you see?
Am I a peasant, or am I a king?
In this life, this world, there is only suffering.
Happiness, like all things, is fleeting.
How could you do this to me again?
I understand now, you are the sadist.
I have a feeling that you liked it.
You've actually got me thinking that you loved it.
I know now that you love inflicting pain and causing
me to suffer more than you ever loved me.
|
||||
9. |
/The Masochist
01:57
|
|||
How could I let you do this to me again?
Always loved the pain, the human embodiment
of a pin cushion.
I've lived devoid of hope, had my love taken from
me, stripped of any value and for some reason
I've kept pushing.
The pain is what's kept my blood flowing.
Never been one for drama, but what feels
good feels good
I still recall the rush of blood when you looked me in
the eyes and asked "do you want more"?
Barely managed to mutter "yes" when I wanted
to say "of course".
Skin is meant as some sort of protection, but
for some reason, you've turned it into an object
meant to be destroyed.
Lacerate me.
Use my flesh as a reference to test the sharpness.
Remember what I used to draw on your hands?
So much wasted ink on one so heartless.
I knew then why I let you do this to me over and over
and over and over again.
I am the Masochist.
I loved the feeling when you sliced it, you've gotta
know by now that I loved it.
I know now that I love misery, the agony you put me
through, more than I ever loved you.
|
||||
10. |
Numbers
03:37
|
|||
Disregarding the definition of the word
Variables in an incoherent system
Devoid of value, the formula runs repeatedly
in an infinite loop.
Seemingly without disruption, the system flows.
The system flows.
Numbers stacked high on pallets
Packed tight and nigh on written off
Numbers racked endlessly in open fields
Meaningless
Data collected from the beginning of days and
discarded without analysis.
Serving only the process it was applied to and
denied any catharsis.
Where a flame once burned, now fire is deprived
of the arsonist.
It burns on its own, somewhere, alone.
The firekeeper has gone missing with no guarantee of
return, the fire is left unattended
Doomed to burn out promptly.
Six, seven, eight, nine.
The numbers await eagerly for the cycle to repeat.
Six, seven, eight, nine..
Realistically speaking, worthlessness redefined.
The numbers merely exist.
They used to be stellar.
Veins throbbing, wishing the blood drawn.
Now frail, withering and blank faced, awaiting a day
they find application
The formula runs repeatedly in an infinite loop.
The formula changes
Negative, it remains the same.
The numbers do not respond well.
Anxiously awaiting the day they can abandon
the system.
Patient, they seem.
They exist in an exact falsehood.
Questioning their own presence, the system fails.
The system fails.
We've all thought about it
The topic - actively discussed.
A system without application
Inevitably doomed.
|
||||
11. |
Departure
03:28
|
|||
I find myself out of breath from time to time.
As I depart all eyes are misty, reflecting on what
was left behind.
I promise I'll visit soon, if only in my dreams
I won't be gone long, even if that's how it seems
The man that I left at the airport grows more
distant each day.
My breathing is labored.
I can't breathe the same anymore
My breaths are stuttered
Each inhale and exhale is labored
I manage to force it out
If I heard my wheezing I would see it as a cry for help
Or perhaps that's just what I tell myself.
That if I saw someone in my shoes, that I would
reach a hand out.
The worst part is, that I'm surrounded by
people just like me.
And no one ever reaches.
Did you not believe me when I said time flies?
Just as I touch down I'm headed back again, again.
You should have believed me when I said
that time flies
At the end of the day, everybody dies.
Treading water with no flotation, my lungs grow tired.
So I guess I'll just exhale and never breathe in again.
They said:
"Look in the mirror, is this what you wanted?"
I didn't hesitate when I responded.
I may have been the only one.
I can still hear you saying my name, I hear it
when I close my eyes
As if you were right beside me
Right beside me.
I never thought I would find home in a place
so far away
I no longer breathe.
|
||||
12. |
Frail Frames/
01:39
|
|||
Burn me.
Weak minds, weaker bodies.
Lurking in a corner, plotting.
Disgusting parasites unworthy of the shells
they've been granted.
You fragile fucking thing.
You don't deserve the title.
You've brought shame to our name.
You disgusting piece of shit.
You weak body bitch.
You worthless piece of shit.
I hate you so much.
|
||||
13. |
/Meek Minds
01:31
|
|||
Tell me,
What the fuck were you thinking?
When you joined this club
What did you expect?
Did you expect to be treated like a king?
You were deemed unworthy of a seat.
The thought of your face makes my blood boil.
Learn your place, you soft body marshmallow
motherfucker.
Earn your fucking rate.
The air you breathe is air you waste.
Jesters don't sit on thrones.
Frail Frames//Meek Minds
|
||||
14. |
Purgatory
04:00
|
|||
In this purgatory the only guarantee is compounding
dissatisfaction and lack of understanding of what
surrounds me without any comprehension of what
I could have possibly done to deserve to be sent to
this endless purgatory
It's dumbfounding.
Imagine for a moment, the same split second,
separated and serrated inserted into your psyche
The same moments being relived repeatedly.
Unbearably unavoidable, your eyes forced open to look
into the endless tunnel that is the abyss
The same moments being relived repeatedly.
Do I deserve this?
Do I deserve this dreadful, pitiful existence,
stripped of all purpose?
If I do deserve this, what have I done?
I seek understanding almost as much as I
seek freedom.
Time is a foreign concept to me, space is
also a mystery.
I lay still and feel myself drifting away, almost a
sense of serenity...
Only to be attacked by these vile, uncontrollable
thoughts that rip me from a nearly meditative
state and plunge me into a crushingly downward
spiral where my chest aches from the intensity
of my heart beating.
As I fall endlessly into the nothingness, I can feel
The pulling and plucking of my muscle fibers
In a harmonious and agonizing orchestration
reminiscent of the strings of torment on a piano.
Temporal and spatial boundaries have been dissolved.
I've resented myself for being born my whole life, I've
hated my current state of being tossed around this
hamster wheel, and I abhor the thought of a future
that's just the same.
No end.
Relief, from this
Never, will I ever feel.
No end.
No relief.
|
||||
15. |
||||
Hell isn't a place set aflame, in fact there is no fire
It's a place of agonizingly bitter cold, where the
blistering wind wakes you to broken skin.
An environment of constant degradation with
absolutely no hope of recovery.
If you think I'm a leader, well then, follow me to Hell.
I don't have the strength to lift up any longer, so
instead I'll pull down
Dragging down this shit population that I'm a part of.
I don't give a fuck about myself, my health or
my well being.
Existence and misery are the same thing.
I don't give a damn about a thing anymore, everything
I perceive is BLEAK.
DAVID SIMONICH:
Constant harsh noise ruptures the eardrums of all
inhabitants and spirals them down towards a state of
delirium and disorientation
Michael:
Your body will be reduced to a fine dust to be blown
away by the slightest wind
No one will hear your screams, or be aware
of your suffering.
DAVID SIMONICH:
Wading the swamp of misery, each step breaks the
next layer of ice as your legs are severed by the shards
Michael:
Burrowing beneath the skin, never to be retrieved.
My pride is what got me here.
I accept my fate.
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like The Green Leaves, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp