Soul with mold and ready to fold
I dream of wiring plated with gold
Wheat fields strew with nothing but blight
Scythe lord swings with all of it’s might
And so it goes—my foes
Gathered and lathered—cajoled
Vest is on and zippered up tight
Trench warefare, that sounds about right
High on fumes and huffing bad air
Dizzying heights that seems about fair
And so it goes—my foes
Gathered and lathered—cajoled
And so it goes—my foes
Gathered and lathered—cajoled
When I look up to the elders - they reveal to me
All that I’ve known to be helpful - erodes more sanity
Perish all thoughts that may guide you - flimsy they will be
Discovery may lead to wisdom - what say you to me?
And so it goes—my foes
Gathered and lathered—cajoled
And so it goes—my foes
Gathered and lathered—cajoled
Flaccid anvil
Flaccid anvil
I’m just a flaccid anvil
I’m just a flaccid anvil
The Long Island metal band's third album etches arena-sized hooks into their jagged compositions, deftly balancing experimental and poppy inclinations. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 12, 2022