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Cupiditas
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A strange, somewhat grim vehicle of electropunk-inspired industrial pop nonsense. I've been told my lyrics verge on the slightly intense. With effortless underg
I'd love to sound more like :Wumpscut: or Katscan or someone like that but I'm afraid that's unlikely. I've spent too many years looking for proper industrial punk bands and the sort of hairy European misanthropes that float my boat, but come up empty, so I thought I'd do it myself. That said, I cringe listening to my own tunes - which unfortunately I've been known to do sometimes; possibly because they're all gloriously unhinged. I suppose Jandek and Suckdog are role models as well then. Does this break the 'evil Nihilistic bleakness' third wall a bit? I always wonder that about industrial and post-industrial groups. They all sound so sensible and dour. That said, I'd like to think my real life is somewhat grim, and I'm not just moaning on about Nazi zombies or cybernetic hookers or something. You get a lot of dental references in my stuff. Much as I try not to glorify it, that's probably because I've been known to chew sweet dripping fuck out of myself on occasion and would at least like to be allowed to complain about that decidedly unorthodox state of affairs occasionally. The attitude of Whitehouse, Brighter Death Now, Swans and Painslut filtered through the crappy techno pop bleepery of whatever modern toss I'm subconsciously influenced by, I suppose. Right, that's enough bands name-dropped. Just listen to it if you're curious.
Song Info
Genre
Electronic • Industrial
Author
Ben Power/Ben Power
Uploaded
August 24, 2015
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.9 MB • 128 kbps • 5:20
Lyrics
Cupiditas Today I shattered my life into a basic state I see all the tortured pieces that I've worked to create The air still slithers round my hate And it reeks of my plague And I stop And I think of the games I once played But they're gone Turned to ash Buried under the dust With a billion rotting dreams and inescapable rust And I'm dancing barefoot on broken glass There are 26 shards And I don't know which one to trust Like a spring lamb standing in an August queue I'm dirty Drunk on damage And I don't know what to do The consciousness of conscience blocks the naïve blues Like a spring lamb in August Now it's my turn too They're all staring from my memories with happy little eyes Holding happy little hands And I cannot deny That I'm reminded of lovers in a cardboard embrace And in those sugar paper promises I recognise my face Now their emaciated husks howl out against each burning lie And the world has shrivelled up And there is blood against the sky And our heads are armed with ashes And their stains strangle down Into the acid hearts in which we thrash till we drown Like a spring lamb standing in an August queue I'm dirty Drunk on damage And I don't know what to do The consciousness of conscience blocks the naïve blues Like a spring lamb in August Now it's my turn too Imagination melts in my quicklime brain These barbed words sting me But I shaped myself in pain Let these parasites gnaw on my withering veins Let them savage my skin Let my sanity drain But that fucking smile is still stitched onto my face Like the whispers in my head so firmly stapled into place Like the endless small change in the gutter outside Where I gutted my integrity And tore off all my pride So I pick all the pieces back up off the wet floor They lacerate my fingers Yet I'm twitching for more And I know in the dark that I've felt this way before But then I never know exactly what is real anymore Like a spring lamb standing in an August queue I'm dirty Drunk on damage And I don't know what to do The consciousness of conscience blocks the naïve blues Like a spring lamb in August Now it's my turn too Like a spring lamb standing in an August queue I'm so dirty Drunk on damage And there's nothing left to do A shadow of an echo fucked those naïve blues Like a spring lamb to the slaughter Now it’s my turn too
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