With knuckles made of broken flesh
In silent berth the fingers rest
With nails chewed to throbbing stubs
And palms wrought red to bear
With knees sunk down to kiss the earth
He offers sullen prayer:
To anybody listening
To birds who would refuse to sing
You're right to rob the world of your song.
Why is life worth living if you never want for love?
And how the hell does one learn what is right from wrong?
What's the point of listening
if silence never gets to ring
its bell and damp the clamor of the throng?
Streamlining their post-metal sprawl through a sharper melodic focus, the Scottish juggernauts' third LP is labyrinthine yet approachable. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 25, 2024