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Drift
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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
Drift A constant shrieking in my brain A note that you could never hear The sound of ice-picks piercing veins The processing of all that fears The stolen skin The cleaving heart The meaning lost beyond the split Still pumping oil Still sucking dark But words alone can’t carve through shit Old rivers dribbling concrete dawn Across imploding starlight’s thorns And sharpened pitch ripped down the layers Of abstract melting’s red despair Their tongues still rasp at whimpered holes That gasp the offal sliced from souls These hobbled syllables are skin And lines are chopping out from sin So strike the tissues into snow Through freezing sands that bleach and blow Where rotting art and hammered dreams Are sniffed into a perfect scream The suckled grave Each breath a flail Consume the wastes that make you fail Till all ice fingers at this stump The skull around a ruptured cunt This shine is bathed in powdered scabs The throbbing echoes of the mad The pools of bone that pour with hate For stitches bitten into shape And muscles hanging from the mud That censors prayers smoked through with blood And chews all light out of a child And rapes narcotics through each smile So strike the tissues into snow Through freezing sands that bleach and blow Where rotting art and hammered dreams Are sniffed into a perfect scream The suckled grave Each breath a flail Consume the wastes that make you fail Till all ice fingers at this stump The skull around a ruptured cunt Strike the tissues into snow Through freezing sands that bleach and blow Where rotting art and hammered dreams Are sniffed into a perfect scream The suckled grave Each breath a flail Consume the wastes that make you fail Till all ice fingers at this stump The skull around a ruptured cunt
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