Alba s touto skladbou:
Cimmerian Repose (EP),
I've heard my calling, that light that pulls me out to sea.
Where I'm the only witness, I'll take it home with me.
To bed and to rest, with the barrel between my teeth.
Spill my brains out for comfort and safety.
Spare me your pleasantries, it's wearing thin.
I have not the time or patience to hear the door, or let you in.
Each hour marks 60 minutes I could have better spent.
Like digging my own grave, or the graves of more good men.
When the scratch in the roof of my mouth becomes a hole,
I'll tongue it 'til I bleed out or grow old.
When the scratch in the roof of my mouth becomes a hole,
I'll tongue it 'til I bleed out or grow old.
How disgusting, to put a price on a human life.
Like printing paper can fill the hole of a brother lost.
Or a son, a father to another child.
One removed from this bloodlust.
ANSWERS! Your hands are not tied.
Exercise your responsibility.
How many miles from home, do you feel?
Do the days drag on into weeks?
No rest. Only push and pull.
When the scratch in the roof of my mouth becomes a hole,
I'll tongue it 'til I bleed out or grow old.
Strike the fucking match!
Strike the fucking match!
