1. |
Tomb Of Skin
04:05
|
|||
|
I love nothing.
But I lust for the sensation of death.
I pine for my death.
I have a will to die, a craving to bleed.
A hunger unsatisfied, a yearning to feed.
I long for death, let me die.
Cut me, choke me, let me lie dead.
Cleave me.
A magnificent meeting of flesh and metal.
Delighting in the glorious work of the devil.
I want to die, to crawl out of my skin.
Open me up, pull out what's within.
Cut me again and again and again.
Destroy this body which I have condemned.
Unlock this flesh cage.
Hack me apart, open my tomb.
I long for escape through a door carved in wounds.
Carved in wounds.
Tomb of skin.
This vessel I find myself trapped within.
Suicide, the unforgivable sin.
A means of escape from this mausoleum I am trapped within.
Tomb of skin.
|
||||
2. |
Refleshing
02:06
|
|
||
|
Muscles gone.
Organs gone.
Skin gone.
Fat gone.
You’ve been defleshed.
You skeleton, you’re dead.
Your brain’s rotting, rotting outside of your head.
No blood flow, no pulse within your flesh,
Because you’ve got no more flesh left.
Refleshing.
A new beginning comes after your death.
A fresh kit of flesh with your name on it.
A donor’s come forward, unwilling but able.
Stripped of what’s needed on the butcher’s table.
Forced introduction of new tissue.
A crude replacement of flesh.
Muscles tacked right onto the bone,
Organs forced straight into your chest.
Your body restored, at least from the outside.
A skin-wrapped prize to feed to the half-blind.
A sack of used sinews, tendons and nerves.
You’re sewn up and tied shut, sealed and preserved.
Refleshing.
You have been refleshed.
But you’re still dead.
A worthless fucking sack of bones wrapped in a mockery of life.
But you're still dead.
|
||||
3. |
Screaming Burial
06:52
|
|
||
|
Bludgeoned limp, then forced into a narrow casket.
Two feet too short for your body.
By broken bone and twisted limb.
Your soft shell is made to fit in.
Savour the taste of the blood and the dirt.
As you're buried alive, entombed in the earth.
You are broken and buried alive left to die in a shallow grave.
In a box clogging an earthen cave.
Lying twisted in a crumpled wreck.
Even breathing stings your broken neck.
Screaming, an instinct, now all you know, expel your breath.
Claws of fear gripping your heart, the voice of fever rattles in your head.
Now you're buried alive, and soon to be dead.
Entombed in the earth.
Your body is a broken mess.
Your mind lingers on the edge of death.
Knowing nothing.
Simple thoughts of simple scenes.
Feeling everything.
Pitch black is all you see.
A hell of dirt and splintered wood.
Feeling worse than you ever thought you could.
Gut-twisting nausea and claustrophobia to an unfathomable degree.
And so you scream.
Chewing up oxygen recklessly as you scream and you scream.
Screaming burial.
And so you scream.
Your throat is dry and raw, your captors beg for more.
They hear you muffled by the earth.
A morbid means of entertainment, to them that is all you're fucking worth.
You're running out of breath, lying a shallow depth.
Below the surface of the land.
Battered mind hears the mocking of the loam, of the clay and of the sand.
Losing your mind.
You're out of time.
No-one knows where you are.
Except the ones that put you here.
But why should anyone else even care?
Oxygen deprived, you've lost what's left of your mind.
Brainless you scream.
Until you die, you scream.
You don't know why you scream.
You've lost your mind, you scream.
Under the ground you scream.
Buried alive, you scream.
|
||||
4. |
Mort Flesh
03:35
|
|
||
|
What once was dead,
Now standing in the mist.
Mort flesh from the graveyard.
Dragged out from the abyss.
Arcane rites of necromancy.
A choir of worms intones undeath.
Left to rot beneath the chapel.
Reeking tempest shrieks of rebirth.
Groaning, mort flesh dripping, going forth.
From the silence of the tomb wherein it lay.
Chewing, reeking, bloated, leaking.
Cloaked with the miasma of the grave.
What once was dead,
Now standing in the mist.
Mort flesh from the graveyard.
Dragged out from the abyss.
Pestilential fog of decay.
Feed the dead.
Raise the dead.
Mort flesh.
What once was buried.
Dead, forgotten and gone.
Mort flesh from the graveyard.
Undeath’s foetid spawn.
|
||||
5. |
Born To Die
07:11
|
|
||
|
I entered this world screaming and terrified.
Years have worn on with no semblance of peace.
Loathe to draw even one more worthless breath.
Thoughts never venture from blissful release.
No pathetic show of grief can shake the strength in my belief.
That I was born to die.
There are no words that will betray my truth.
Knife is drawn and though I am scared.
My heart is prepared for what I must now do.
I’ll be saved.
When I’m buried in a shallow grave.
I can only laugh as I look down at my lifeblood.
Coagulate in vain around the shredded remains of my veins.
Upon my earthly prison I commit this sin.
Commit to destroying it.
I entered this world screaming and terrified.
Years have worn on with no semblance of peace.
Loathe to draw even one more worthless breath.
Thoughts never venture from blissful release.
Every minute that I continue to live is untimely.
Expiration arrives entirely too slow.
I exchange this emptiness for another.
Where I exist alone with myself and no other.
I can only scream to the heavens above.
While I gouge out my eyes, with scraping and breaking nails.
This husk in which I’m incarcerated, I sentence it to be annihilated.
We are born to die.
A life most lamentable in its beginning.
To see the beauty in its unmaking.
A change now seems pointless.
Affairs are made null by this final decision.
To make it worthwhile in its ending.
Continually sticking out my neck, only to have someone step on it.
Feels all too right to believe that I have found an answer in nothingness.
Bodiless one will you speak with me?
Celebrating the notion that I was never meant to survive.
This disease incurable that hides beneath the guise of a joyous life.
My will in bending, and soon will lie broken.
Caring for anything breathing upon this earth is beyond me.
So I implode and compress into apathy, weightlessly crushing me.
Densely complete but unable to heal.
Asking incessantly, nobody telling me.
How being human is meant to feel.
|
||||
Gravepeeler Melbourne, Australia
Old school death metal with members of Carcinoid, Hormagaunt and Defenestration.
If you like Gravepeeler, you may also like:
Realms of Exquisite Morbidity
by Malignant Altar
supported by 24 fans who also own “Gravepeeler”
I'm kicking my own ass for somehow missing this when it released. Expertly arranged death metal with kick drums that could demolish a high-rise.
go to album
supported by 24 fans who also own “Gravepeeler”
An outstanding Extreme doom death album, in the best tradition. The funerary atmosphere reminds of Evoken ('Centuries of ooze" bears striking similarities, for my delight). It is overall sharp, dark, hypnotic and unrelenting. One of those rare convincing new bands that hold proud the legacy of the biggest names.
go to album
Wretched Blessing
by Wretched Blessing
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 26, 2024
go to album
Killer, knotty blackened prog from Norway, full of ferocity and complexity, with blistering guitar leads aplenty.
go to album
Oracular Hexations
by Diabolic Oath
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 12, 2024
go to album
supported by 20 fans who also own “Gravepeeler”
you are Jena Plissken, riding your chopper through an undead ruled Mexico city. bring your sawed-off with you before entering.
go to album
