WHAT IS THIS SELF THAT ONE MUST REJECT? FEAR THE RESURGENCE, FORCED TO FORGET.
A PRIMORDIAL DRIVE, A SIN TO RECALL. SO LONG SUPPRESSED WITH MEMORY IN THRALL.
STOLEN IPSEITY, DENIED, DENIED. NO NAME TO KNOW, NO ROOM FOR PRIDE. GROOMED TO BE NO ONE EXCEPT BANK SUCCESS,
CRUSHED TO OBLIVION IN THE NAME OF PROGRESS.
INDIVIDUAL LOST, BE NO ONE THEN DIE.
AN EMPTY VESSEL OF PROFIT, IN THE FILTH OF THEIR CONFINES.
BOW TO THE CLASS, TWISTED VERSION OF SELF.
NOT TO FORGET, FOR IT’S BRANDED ON FLESH.
TURN TO THE COALESCENCE THAT HAS BEEN DESIGNED
TO ROB ALL EXPRESSION FOR A STATE MASTERMIND.
THE ANGUISHED ARE FACELESS, JUST A CROWD OF DAMP GREY.
BUT WHERE WOULD ONE GO IF DECIDED TO STRAY?
TO STAND OUT IS DEATH, TO THINK IS CONCEIT.
BETTER TO FIT IN WITHOUT ADMITTING DEFEAT.
WHO WANTS TO FEEL SUCH VICIOUS SPURN,
WHEN THE VANITY OF SELF CANNOT BE EARNED.
IRONY, BE NO ONE THEN DIE.
AN EMPTY VESSEL OF PROFIT IN THE FILTH OF THEIR CONFINES.
BOW TO THE MAN-GIVEN LABEL OF VALUE.
IRONY, WHEN IDENTITY GIVEN NOT BY SELF.
supported by 59 fans who also own “Filth Of Their Confines”
one of the most important releases of the decade, the horrors shouted here are only getting worse, type of shit to keep you up at night. straight raw punk to slam breakdowns on some parts, wild wild shit. thankful to have caught them at TIANTG fr. David