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Death By Starvation (Full​-​Lenght)

by Death by Starvation

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1.
Intro 02:32
2.
Abandonment of Being When the besieger is foiled - Fraud, the conquering worm When egoism succumbs - Cripple, the shameful being The world reflects his contempt - Scorn, the mirror of truth Broken, he stands in disdain - By Itself, for itself The truth engulfs, the lie succumbs Egoism is nothing that a moral route A subjective way to mimic strengh But its foolish, as hope is Such a waste of life negleted Such a shame in living mistaken Isolation, a egoistic choice - Pain still lingers A lie, in a moral disguise - Pain cannot be forfeit Tornd by pain, hope still remains Broked by hope, man stills human Such a waste of life negleted Such a shame in living mistaken Isolation, a rational choice But in this hollow escape we feast onto madness And in the end there is nothing, completely nothing Only an echoing shadow, of a lingering and senseless presence Sink inside into nothingness Rationality a falacious maze Trance in abandonment Close the casque, and let the soul weap Face defeat and its splendors Falaciousness at hand Crawl in shame, and denial All hail the abandonment of being
3.
Egoism, mark of the wise man When our very being shows (itself as rout) Faced with the ultimate imperfection A possibilite but hard questioning comes from within (born of despair) Searching for all possible causes of such nefarious obloquy And like a bolt of sapience The truth shows itself, beautiful and terrible Misbegotten, wretched and foul by all means Hope lies in acceptance Because only in collectivity we fell like owners themselves But we fell, while others nourish Parasitic, on the reproachful bonding In the vain attempt to become solid we turn into feckless Bonding, sacrificing to others We transfigure into a mockery of life itself Summarizes the denail of all pleasures A velvet prision for ravenous and hollow spirits Choked and blighted by values A deformated tolerance of moral shame Egoism, amoral and rational, the mark of the wise man Egoism, amoral and rational, the mark of the wise man True in his path, whow knows that only by his strenght alone he can feel True in his path, whow knows that only by his strenght alone he can feel resplendent above all else
4.
Notabatur Inedia Mortem A child sucking, dying The marrow of his own mother Bodies, succumbed Tokens of a failed race A massive tomb, shimmering Coagulated myriads of flesh Thousands of naked corpses Rotting, left in the sun Worm, rot, void, death Ruin, alone, despair, abandon Torn, sick, acrid, flies Nothing, zero, nihil, void In death, we cleanse, this womb A purtid presence upon the earth is done Another death in life, there is none Only black and cold, the taste of sand and drought Thought piearced, and lashed, a sky obscure Conforms, in sulfur, the fractals of sin Famine laugh eternal The screams of shame, this dialetic death Notabatur inedia mortem Inanitione , finalis solutio Mortem, sibi concibit Sepulcrum humanitas A massive tomb, shimmering Coagulated myriads of flesh Thousands of naked corpses Rotting, left in the sun
5.
Eluding the Grasp Possibility Feels like a fortress, but its not - the marbles of collective foundations are built on sand the possibiçity of growth nurtured in tortuous sustems of man's deception Misdirection of enlightenment - A hard and futile path, the soul's famine Innocuous and expensive, hapiness as a lure to engulf true reason By suffering we hope, hope as the virotic riposte of disapointment The woe of self abnegation, feeds with ashes a false arrogance Eluding the grasp of possibility of absolute hapiness we attest a choice // marke by // an inner void concentrating expenditure of self to the self Elufing the grasp of possibility Tearing apart//one by one, blind by binds //we suffer in strife and denial Values, colective shackles Values, oh the inferno Built like a fortress, and it is - the rubbles of mans foundations are scattered the certantiy of decay - insuflated in toruous systems of collective death Misdirection of enlightenment - A hard and futile path, the soul's famine Innocuous and expensive, hapiness as a lure to engulf true reason Eluding the grasp of possibility of social compromise we walk the path // know by // the wisest man supressing despair in individual cultism Eluding the grasp of possibility
6.
Silence, Thereafter And there is, nothing left Only rotting corpses Broken gospels, and faint ecoes Of a dead morality And there is none, no resistance No escape or hope There is only silence And thereafter An aftertaste of naught "Everything is so old, everything is so dark, i remeber it from a dream, corner of this time" And now we reap, what we saught, in this desert And now we weap, in the absense of life Corpses laughing, sarcastic lash of starvation Bodies all torned, the curse of being all too human And there is, nothing left Only empty souls Hollow sylogisms, all shattered Of a feeble filosophy And there is none, no dialetic no retoric or argument There is only silence and thereafter an aftertaste of naught In this death of categoric abism, we must only submit Reverberating the logic of suicide, we must only submit And there is none, no resistance No escape or hope There is only silence And thereafter An aftertaste of naught
7.
8.

about

Recorded in Studio Improviso by Francisco G. Bueno e Kexo.
Mix and Master by Kexo
Cover art by Ars Moriendee

credits

released October 7, 2013

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all rights reserved

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about

Death by Starvation Sao Paulo, Brazil

Death in life
Life in death

II - Guitars/Vocals
III - Drums
IV - Bass

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