World Narcosis 7"

by World Narcosis

/
  • Immediate download of 9-track album in the high-quality format of your choice (MP3, FLAC, and more). Paying supporters also get unlimited mobile access using the free Bandcamp listening app.

     name your price

     

1.
01:13
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
01:33

credits

released 11 November 2011

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: Brainscam
We will never be well.
Brainscam.
Track Name: The Odder Outsider
There´s no home where there is control.
We might as well give up - stand up -
choke ourselves.
Track Name: Freedom Fighter
Have you faced your freedom yet?
Have you walked your courage to a dead end?
Remember: glory comes when left dead.
Track Name: Amputated Pilots
The end keeps us gliding,
where death wears us wet.
Cemical angels feasting on our flesh.
And for you it´s being natural.
Track Name: Dead Salesman's Blues
We were born to be hanged by scary, callous decisions.
Barbed-wired and shut down just to fit in the lines.
Systemized to forget how the real beauty of life ended.
Where a man puts a tag on men and shouts for sale!

We are for sale!
(As he shouts).
We are for sale!
(As we kowtow),
for a sale!

This city is bleeding amongst the others.
Way ahead of its death - long fucking gone to your hell.
Track Name: Waste Awaiting Rust
This is you, this is me.
A living corpse, a rotten family tree.
As the world suffers for our pride,
we hang our heroes high.
Buying ourselves into sleep;
a wasted life.
Track Name: Human Flags, Terror Waltz
Let them choke on your filth.
Let them rot in your sin.
Let them praise in your name,
oh god and your human waste.

There´s no rest from this labor of death.
Bodies swing in harmony, fighting for the coffins.
Cerements and funerals own you.
Human flags, terror waltz.
Track Name: The End Control
We´ve forced the end to be a part of us.
We´ve bought our way into a world
where the possibilities of solution always seem impossible.
Track Name: Deathbed
This room is an unholy grave.
My flesh is dirt, my view is mould.
My ways have once again locked me in.
My days are bleeding,
empty love´s digging,
dead hearts are dripping,
forming my headstone.
Standing guard around my deathbed,
I´ll let myself in dead shadows,
before "I love you"
ever reloads our guns again.