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Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Scullion Sepulture, Polishing Turds: Remastered Crap, David Bowie's Flawless American Accent, Choke ...A Love Letter, post consumer, a brief series of obnoxious remixes, fragmentation lurch, mutilation slough, and 7 more.
1. |
Garbage Man
03:24
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Smile for the camera, shake the right hands
do all the things that a garbage can.
Your narcissistic whinging betrays fascist tropes
as you do the kind of shit that smothers all hope.
Take like it's breathing and hate like it's fun.
Leave a trail of tears and smoking guns.
Step over the bodies like they're props on your show.
Where's it gonna stop? Nobody knows!
You get off on the fact that nobody believes you.
You'd bail but the corner you're painted in feeds you.
With every word you seethe desperation;
it's not even enough to have a whole hostage nation.
There will never be a world that's better with you in it.
The death rattle of your generation's near finished.
A sentient brain-damaged ego sob-screaming
and pledging allegiance to losing it completely.
You've never once implied that you're a human being.
You're not a man; you're a projection screen.
Not a single honest John is complicit in your con;
just feral oligarchs and their hateful qultist cogs.
They handed you the keys to go and do them proud
never quite believing that you'd burn it to the ground.
You can turn the whole planet into a roiling hell
and still get to die in a comfortable cell.
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2. |
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The end is near; you won't survive.
Your path is clear; it's lit with lies.
Your hate is empty; your heart is black
and what you've given up you won't get back.
Fear becomes you.
Your faith a monster with many heads;
it eats your children to praise your dead.
Your horn of plenty, just plenty wrong.
And you were always empty, all along.
Fear becomes you.
Your monstrous shadow stands erect
gripping tight the wrongs you won't correct.
Your hollow victory, a victory still.
You sleep like a baby and always will.
Fear becomes you.
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3. |
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The internet was supposed to bring us Utopian specialized communities
an information super highway of neuro-lingual electrical unity.
But instead we've become infected with specialized niche realities.
Micro-pockets of denial, algorithmically pre-determined to assault and deceive our faculties.
This was supposed to be the future and the future was supposed to be magical,
but the present less predicted has turned out decidedly irascible.
The monsters we've technologically disturbed are of a class usually pinned on Pandora
but as we all know the black mirror has shown us we're just naturally this abhorrent.
Are you exacerbated by the sheer number who vote against their own self interest?
Then you won't believe how many vote to blow up the fucking planet!
Isn't just fantastic?
We all get our own hand basket!
And if I should sleep perchance to dream. In that dream what do you see?
I see a future with automated cars and Washington beneath the sea.
The West Virginia skyline is dotted with mountain top mansions
while the have-nots squabble violently over expired rations.
And good news! We've finally terraformed and colonized Mars!
But this is embarrassing, because you get to stay right where you are.
The one percent, more brazen than ever, simply take now in plain view.
They are, after all, the anointed and chosen few.
In other words; exactly like now only more
as we have long passed the Rubicon of evening the score.
And goddamn, man, wouldn't you know?
There's no dollar value on an I told you so.
Isn't it just fantastic?
We all get our own hand basket.
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4. |
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Come the storm clouds,
come the howling winds.
They form a vortex to pull it all in.
The rain drops
fall in sweeping sheets
a rolling deluge to wipe it all clean.
Through the wailing
we hear teeth gnash
and a God in mourning for his broken contract.
They feign indignant
like they didn't know
to heed the bearers of his rainbow.
I know you didn't hear me then
I wonder if you hear me now.
Tell me if you're listening
or am I just wasting breath on
whoever you are today
whatever you are right now
or will you just pretend that none of this was real the minute that I turn around?
Pretend that you were ignorant
even when I showed you evidence.
Pretend that you were innocent
even when you cheered for death for
anyone who begged for help
anyone who sought your aid
point your bloody finger at whom you hold accountable even as you walk away.
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5. |
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6. |
Raw Sewage Deluge
02:45
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7. |
Choke
04:15
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What's the difference between consent and coercion
when choice is a burden you'd rather not bear?
What's the difference between lies and delusion
when feigning confusion also gets you there?
What's the difference between your faiths
when they all clearly lead to a terrorist state?
No difference 'tween obstruction and hate
when it lands in the same place; end of debate.
CHOKE
on your human pets/on your lies/for the love of God just fuck off and die.
CHOKE
on your shit ideas/on your fascist views/everyone would be so much better off without you.
CHOKE
on your childish threats/and your gilded life/on your atrophied eisoptrophobic mind.
CHOKE
on your hateful kids/with no fond adieu/everyone will be so much better off without you.
I'm inclined to think you buy your own bullshit
which is tailored to fools. Don't you think that's sad?
A senile animal on 5 different leashes,
a husk that's belief-less. Don't you think that's sad?
When the smoke clears you'll just be broker,
a trans-global joke, yeah. Don't you think that's sad?
Goddamn, man. What a disaster;
no allies, just masters. That's so fucking sad.
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8. |
Theater of Cruelty
02:36
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A perfect maelstrom has been building
for everything to fail right into place.
When the dust settled after the chaos
the disciples of Pilate had won the race.
Rabidly now they lord over
revenge well in their grasp.
The suffering will pay for suffering still
as the monsters openly retire their masks.
They line the coliseum
frenzied at the smell of death.
The gods demand a sacrifice
and they'll gladly comply until there's none of us left.
To them it's theater.
Just theater.
A theater of cruelty.
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Asellus Claudum Virginia
Asellus Claudum is a writer, composer, and pursuer of quixotic endeavors. He is married and has a cat. A gender-queer
autistic dude of many paradoxes, he values conceptual continuity above most things, however since seeing his first Faith No More video at age 6, the very concept of genre only enrages him.
He once made John DiMaggio laugh so he feels like he's given something back to the universe.
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