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Desire Will Rot

by Fuck The Facts

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1.
A vague sense of wrong, I should be lying, hide what I’ve done. Nothing, simply, nothing. Nothing at all. The minutes, the hours wasted for such little gain. I robbed myself from a better self. Any dreams of grandeur; gone. I closed my eyes on the obvious loss of control I’ve sadly reached. Every waking moment compulsively filled with others’ irrelevance. The few thoughts remaining will never sprout, will never become peculiar. Dazed, numbed by my lack of movement. Any willingness now gone. Life, passing me by. The conversations I missed, the people I didn’t care to meet, long gone. I should not wish for better anymore, I will never be happier than before.
2.
Unrest, immersed in the black. Home in the dark, in it I thrive. An endless panic is all we know. A profound restlessness. Barn doors slammed shut. The night has begun. With it I am one. No memory escapes me. Not one, I never forgot. Yet the days drag on. Endless. I’m waiting for a rush. Filling my day full, hunting, killing all that I see. The open scars on my face. Not one tranquil second. Deprived of it all, peace. And still, I am in awe. Of those who live softly in their caves of regret. Upon carpet and cloth. Failure comes quickly for those who wait. Far too long suffering. So bring forth the victims as the moon drenched sky. Makes shadows collide. On them I rely, on them I will feast. With the winds blowing north. With the dawn in the east.
3.
The high road leads nowhere ‘till slowly you fall. This tirade never ending, never ending. Despair came faster than ever. Grew worse in the spring; Gave nothing we expected. Gave nothing at all. Broke down, December. The last hopes, long gone. Heeding to a midnight call. Gave nothing to surrender, gave nothing at all. Burns higher, Burn homes until leveled, are all smoked out. Cry for what you hoped for. Die for better times, never to come.
4.
La Mort I 01:36
L’homme de la mort vient à tous les jours. Un autre meurt. L’homme de la mort a toujours du travail
5.
La Mort II 01:34
Le goût de la vie, je l’ai perdu. Je l’ai laissé au sol à la fin d’un querelle. Tentative de sauvetage d’une relation déchue. Maintenant, elle semble si ridicule. Il fait tout le temps froid chez moi. Dehors, le gris. Je t’attends depuis longtemps. Au pas de ma porte, dans tes beaux habits. Je te remercie.
6.
Prey 02:22
Late within the somber hours. The hunt. I’ve leaped into the odd dance. I can smell their sweat; see through their dark and vivid stares. And the one prey, only to take. Sing the words of your vanity. Display your freedom, like a cheap commodity. Keep stepping on the trap; gamble your life with the wolf pack. You won’t have the final word. It’s so clear you can’t see. Your excessive pride made you mindless, defenseless. I can smell the fire, I can smell the burn. Run sweet little prey, before your end comes.
7.
Voids have been filled with an echoing sound, for the bitterness and rivals. Life, love, for only so long. Nothing shrouded, veils in bloom. Surrounded by the melody of the good times to come. The silence removes us from where we must belong. Come screeching, to a full stop. Saddened by monotony, we forgot the meaning of fun. Stare long enough, it will stare back at you. Old wisdom enchants only the ears of the few. Something crashed through the window, the dawn. The glass shattered in pieces was swept off the floor. Our life into the trash, what good has it done? Bitterness dies when you find something new. The truth. The silence, removed us.
8.
Solitude 03:11
Un constat clair; nous ne sommes plus que source de déception. Sans but précis, en manque de direction. Prendre la peau de ceux que nous devions devenir, nous le fîmes. Rien n’a pour autant changé. On a laissé le vide s’installer autour de soi. Le futur s’annonce d’une solitude aride. Notre évidente mediocrité est le rappel constant de la défaite. Il reste si peu de volonté et si peu de naïveté. Amorphes et vaincus, devant nous, il y a si peu. Notre perte de jeunesse, d'intérêts. Le désillusion est grande. L’envie d’avancer depuis longtemps perdue. Je reconnais notre malheur et ne peux qu’anticiper la chute. J’appréhende les coups durs qu’ils nous restent à subir. Le temps me coule entre les doigts. La chute, le corps nous lâche. On attend la fin. Les attentes étaient trop élevées. Notre mort sera inaperçue.
9.
False Hope 05:46
Never forget that's why we're here. Sulk and regret. Concoct excuse and deliver me from this harassment. Circular morals dizzy all those around. I've struggled between two seas for what seems like forever. Dig deep, dug paths, we've walked. Kneeled down beside her, and traced my lips. She cared for me and I let her down. They say luck favors the prepared. You just can't shake the clouds that rolled and rained down upon. Your swollen egos' last stand. For false hope, check here. Bed sheet tucked slightly her last armored stand. Sterility's fragrant grasp. Cut me the fuck down. Shut your wise ass up and relish the moment. Misfortune delights at the burnt offerings. Turning chemicals into flames. A sleight of hand carried me where the wind blew. A streetcar named “dead end” rides. The city replies with arms open wide. This duty delegated to this false hope.
10.
Circle 07:54
Halo - Fallen - Frost - Rebirth
11.
Brick pulverized. The essence stripped. Bowing down, they all looked away. Jaded scripts. Passed down to all. The grandfathers' tale, the granddaughters ear. Nothing changes cause nothing’s changed. Uncompensated for lost time. We're spreading the news. Waist deep in the blue ribbon blues. No relief from that which ails you. Silenced children’s opened throats. So wipe that dumb western look off your privileged mug. Enshrined in a house of cards built by dipshits. Describe yourself one last time. Cause you're washed up, finished, done, you're through. Like the jaded scripts we burnt. When success became your fun. That's how I knew you were done. Nothing changes, because nothing's changed.

credits

released August 25, 2015

Recorded by Fuck The Facts December 2012 at Apartment 2
Mixed by Topon Das January 2015
Mastered by Nick Zampiello at New Alliance East

Topon Das - guitar, bass, noise
Mel Mongeon - vocals
Mathieu Vilandré - drums, guitar
Marc Bourgon - bass, vocals, guitar
Johnny Ibay - guitar

Additional musicians:
Mskwaankwad Mnoomnii - vocals on 'Frost'
Loretta Hale - cello on 'Fallen'
Nan Bourgon - piano on 'Fallen'
Steve Vargas & Dave Levitt - additional gang vocals on 'Nothing Changes'

Music & lyrics by Fuck The Facts
Artwork & layout by Mel Mongeon

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Fuck The Facts Gatineau, Québec

Canadian Bastardized Grindcore.

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