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Cancer Is A Gift

by Cope

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1.
stained brain dead face blackened thoughts (thaw and rot) frozen obscure covered in frost (thaw and rot) power lack there of segregation (thaw and rot) a machine with potential call it what you will surrounded by these similar broken hearts and these machines that swallow time grow child and yield to life as succession departs staying close to death life's mortal decline anxiety pins and needles name the cliche (thaw and rot) diagnose the disease watch me bleed but don't pray (thaw and rot) i've read minds i hear prayers (thaw and rot) but i'm having trouble reading my own so leave me alone. the cavity of possession the useless shrine the cruelty of thought the power of mind the poison of religion abuse of the divine death to humanity worthless and sublime call it what ever you want my rituals of self preservation denial through a failed state or apathetic exhaustion my distorted values of self worth are as filthy as yours but i can word them creatively enough loop holes for words loop holes for wrists tied to fit tight but set free the hypocrtites so i'm laying down my crippled hands against the grain of gnashing teeth these hands that never saw war these hands that never raised young these hands and a mask, disguised disgusted and defined. responsible for etching names in stone digging graves for thousands setting fire to homes carving the ivory for jesus' bones i'm walking the path i'm never waking up.
2.
Shells 04:24
it wants to speak i want to sleep it wants to excrete i want to eat it wants to compete i'm incomplete it wants to die i want to be i want to be a broken back from working fingers bled down to the bone. now at home, open the door but noone else is home. its cluttered on the inside but not enough to fill the void the silence is just the perfect thing to keep from feeling annoyed inside this rusted skeleton, a heart made of ash (dead inside dead inside) cold hands on the metal dead face behind the glass (dead inside dead inside) waiting for the moment like a hammer and nail (dead inside dead inside) holes in my hands and i cant i cant i cant i fail, i fail. not awake or sleeping just staring through blank screens absolutely listless the bottom of extremes lost inside her own head lost inside depressed lost inside a defected mind but this living life is blessed. inside this rusted skeleton, a heart made of ash (dead inside dead inside) cold hands on the metal dead face behind the glass (dead inside dead inside) waiting for the moment like a hammer and nail (dead inside dead inside) holes in my hands and i cant i cant i cant i fail, i fail. fail fail fail holes in my hands grasping at sand dead. dead. dead.
3.
Possessions 02:33
extravagant indulgence of each mind's discerning tastes its why we wallow in our excess and complain about the waste depressed our needs stay unconcerned we're so obsessed with wealth coveting the human face we separate from self we're dreaming of a new language we're chasing a useless chase we're bowing down to man a promised step refused to take these humans often asking questions chasing points into the sky a constant breathing chasing losing beating so afriad to (die) a prophecy through grinding teeth burning brightly underneath desired actions unattained unfufilled dead disdain forged with the hands broken skin seeping from the ground again so where's my throne? where's my gain? where's my grave? a shedding pulse illusion:time we fill the void with death we're yet to learn to live because we're scared to take a breath taught to burn as fuel inside a dying, fucked machine washing away the guilt watching the drain swallow our dreams its a constant unbalance i've got this iron mind but my anticipation is ruining me i'm forgetting to breathe... always forgetting to breathe my body wants what it cant have what my iron mind wont give i refuse to forget the motions breathing in uncomfortable skin setting my iron mind against itself forgetting to breathe my anticipation
4.
Hubris 05:39
terminal decay yeilding to dead convictions we are cemented into place we are where we are a living contradiction we are where we are because we are living through the shrine of a miscarrage (we bear the right to self medicate) obsessively hoarding garbage (we abuse the right to self medicate) preening mutated genetics (we bear the right to self medicate) addicted to violent pornography (we abuse the right to self medicate) i opened my wallet today and god's face wasnt staring back at me. its the absence of warmth and the absence of truth its beating the love out of curious youth its the famous find in the winds of change where these thoughts and actions reaarange i'm a waste of time caught up with myself and lost inside my mind you're the floating distraction that digs paths for me to take broken trails with cold dead ends a maze made of mistakes a temper dealt with shaking hands sitting with you defeated on this broken path your increments are chipped off and fed to an ever starving pride leaving hungry, the heart weak beating, dying dead inside i need to taste your filthy hands and know why you're better than me i need to know why i share a road with a rejected visionary why you're better than me.... ( i love you laughton) i cant i wont cope

about

The tracks from Cancer Is A Gift were turned into a tape for the Summer 2010 tour that destroyed the band. Tracks originally intended for a collaborative vinyl release with experimental drone artist St. Gilles.

Really, just a last ditch effort to put out new recordings. Hand made two days before tour.
Edition of 30.

credits

released August 1, 2010

KW-vocals, DS-drums, TS-bass, NL-guitar.

Shells Originally written by our old guitarist and turbo pal ML.

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Cope Edmonton, Alberta

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