sometimes this fool forgets his place
and ventures too far from the cave
his words fall heavy on the ground
fall flat and never make a sound
"I've memorized the lines
that your face cuts
in the darkness of this mirror
and the automatic tic
of the muscle in your chest
doesn't beat for me"
and now the curtain opens on our hero
head in hand, eyes to the ground
a painting of his former self
he broke free of the colors on the brush
and the fading faces of his ghost mistakes
point their fingers in silent accusation
and the canvas hangs a little lower these days
and you can see the cracks in the frame
"I've poisoned you
oh my sweet love
with the smiles I denied you
but these old tired eyes
see you my dear
come close so I can break you"
and now the curtain closes on our hero
head in hand, eyes to the ground
a painting of his former self
he was defeated by the colors on the brush
the fading faces of his ghost mistakes
throw their voices in screaming accusation
and the canvas hangs a little lonely these days
and you can see the frame start to break
The Long Island metal band's third album etches arena-sized hooks into their jagged compositions, deftly balancing experimental and poppy inclinations. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 12, 2022