The Solipsist Dream
by PATHOGENIC
John Hargrove
Aaron
Alan Dague-Greene
Brian Phillips
Ryan Doherty
Jared Dierks
Shawn Ferguson
Chris Allsopp
“I've seen these guys live more than a few times and have heard their sound evolve in the time between Cyclopean Imagery and this. They've still got some improvements to make, but they're on the right track and continue to keep me engaged. Keep it up fellas!”
Tizzer
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 5-track album in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now $5 USD or more
1. |
Albatross
04:32
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2. |
Cobwebs We Keep
04:27
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3. |
Tempest
05:01
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4. |
A Piece of Hell
04:35
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5. |
The Solipsist Dream
06:45
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about
Jake Burns - Vocals
Chris Gardino - Guitar
Anthony Simone - Drums
Dan Leahy - Bass
Justin Licht - Guitar
Chris Gardino - Guitar
Anthony Simone - Drums
Dan Leahy - Bass
Justin Licht - Guitar
credits
released 12 October 2012
Recorded and Produced by Anthony and Chris at "The Tony Simone Recording Happy Sound Studio Extravaganza Time" and the "Chris Gardino Crispy Crackers Audio Emporium." Album art by Anthony Simone.
Recorded and Produced by Anthony and Chris at "The Tony Simone Recording Happy Sound Studio Extravaganza Time" and the "Chris Gardino Crispy Crackers Audio Emporium." Album art by Anthony Simone.
tags
license
all rights reserved
feeds
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discography
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Oct 2012 -
Aug 2011
contact / help
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Redeem download codes here.
- Track Name: Albatross
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melancholy is my cross to bear:
memorial fumes - poison sweet as honey.
we built our walls with reused tombs.
how did it come to this?
I won’t let this get the best of me,
it’s time to smother the flames.
you are just a fucking burden
and i will make my peace
taking pieces away.
we will make atonements,
puzzles in disrepair
pieced together on your shoulders.
so why must I be your atlas?
I would only let this world drop.
undo the albatrosses -
break this world into pieces.
you don’t mean a thing you ever say.
control dissolves like your breath
between the throttle of my grip.
I know you’re lying, it’s stale on your breath.
I know I’m losing touch
but no misery will touch me again... forever heartless.
you won’t scream when you can’t speak
and you won’t run because you’re weak.
don’t say a thing, do not apologize.
contusions crown your throat with unconsciousness.
blue lips surface, blood vessels shower your gaze
in an absent red wash; a dead cosmetic.
we will reconcile when your heart withdraws,
the paling of your skin, the vacancy of your dilated pupils.
making peace by taking pieces. you were just a burden.
no more lies. your eyes retrogress to the back of your head.
making peace by taking pieces. - Track Name: Cobwebs We Keep
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It got the best of me and I broke
like the bones in your throat.
Where do we go now?
Coarse hands pull the hair from my scalp
and place them as surgery cloths.
These tufts are my cloak, my bandage.
I spun cobwebs to fill the voids you left inside of me.
They trap the little pieces and my dreams,
they trap what’s left of me.
Your voice used to breathe peace into my soul - no more -
now I have taken a piece of yours.
Solitude, my captor, baron of hell:
time is the lock and my mind is the cell.
Assemble the image as reality falters.
No hands will touch here again.
All we have are the cobwebs we keep,
spun to fill our voids.
Shadow flesh shifts along the dial -
time changes everything, all things pass away.
My name is called like sirens at the door,
painted in red translucence.
Washed up on the shore when all I wanted was an abyss. - Track Name: Tempest
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sentences rain themselves from opaquely shifting thoughts:
can i say the words i mean when those i do push us away?
the blankness of the now, our wordless prose:
spoken like elegies for a burial where you arose.
no, just stay, lay here with me. you know i didn't mean it,
you know meaning is subjective. you're no angel,
you know we are both ending up in hell tonight.
I just want something tangible, something to make this real.
more than your cold skin, more than tin, ghosted words.
more than breaking foundations - watch me as i fall apart -
watch the image disassemble shifting from thought to thought.
what do my words mean if i don’t mean them?
i mean this: nothing means a thing to me.
when reality is your dead body I search for fillers.
I search for theater in the mind acting morality.
I search myself for the inner visions. I search in lack of purpose.
Serve this sentence’s reign. Hell elects to burn a slow ceasing.
Ceaselessly in search of smothering.
I’ll carry the coals like the cobwebs within. - Track Name: A Piece of Hell
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ensnared in the gravity of consequence,
thoughts orbit convicted mass.
judge me now.
did i do this to myself? but she deserved it.
vacancy in her reddened gaze. no company but hell this day:
mother’s touch to soothe the wound.
seedlings sprout in vibrant groves.
a daughter laughs in cloudless sky.
yield control and marked to die.
visions of what I’ve taken away
while from them in the wood I evade;
inanimate objects staring at me with
funeral eyes that scream endless goodbyes:
I can’t be contained.
here we are all satellites of death
in an empty empyrean sea.
fractured and laid to rest
here in this arboreal tomb.
vacancy in her reddened gaze.
sepultural mass, convicted maze.
elder limbs, ancient judge:
stained in hate but condemned to love.
we will soon share a piece of hell. - Track Name: The Solipsist Dream
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i watched webs spin themselves
between trees like a shroud woven in the woodwork.
roots of fiber spin underneath dusted skin.
wilderness decorates the void inside
with confused inexistence
absorbed into the common streams.
(follicles bud - assimilative solve/
bark ensnares - abrupt encasement
in kaleidoscope tongues)
I am the formula that codes us just like you.
I am the decomposition that serves all sentences.
all things wane in the due moments/all things cease -
to commune and redistribute
(soils consume the ambrosial cycle)
there is a bitterness in giving in,
and there is peace in letting go
(I take this all to hell with me
when hell is all i know inside me)
the things we do follow us,
stitches to mend the wounds,
scars to remind us.
seedlings will sprout from our dissolutions.
there is a peace in passing,
when we yield our pulses we yield our pasts -
I am a piece of everything.
I am the solipsist dream.
I am the smothered flame (only embers remain).
I am the nihilist fade.
branches of bones dissolve into the night sky.
dew on the shed foliage;
life is transient.
bones in transit to shed nutrients
commune with death perpetually;
life is transience.
