Thousand miles away,
Gone far from what we'd planned.
We strayed, oh god, we'll stray
With lust for golden sand.
Possessed and mad with the smell of income,
Hearts paralyzed.
We'll fade away.
No mercy within this scramble,
Not even a hint of compassion to show.
Fangs in the neck that strangle
Becoming victims softer than stone.
Won't save us in the afterlife,
Worms in our souls greed will reborn and last for eternity.
Awake we'll find another cause
To get the grip and keep it closed.
Over and over.
Over and over.
The seed will surely grow to break
The delicate frail shells relieve the skin and bones
And leave the guts with shit,
Will surely grow to break
The delicate frail shells relieve the skin and bones
And leave the guts with
Gold will surely grow to break
The delicate frail shells relieve the skin and bones
And leave the golden shit
The shit.
The debut LP from psych-doom group Inanimus features dungeon synth artist Elyvilion and blends crushing riffs with big atmospherics. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 4, 2022
A ferocious display of blackened stoner-doom from Moscow's Moanhand, who offsets moments of bleak ugliness with clean, haunting melody. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 23, 2021
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