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lyrics

Trudging along in the dead silence.
He does it because he must.

Rows of upright giants asserting themselves.
Night here is never fully black,
but the air is surely dead.
The citadel is out of view, but it's bound to see you.

Antiseptic souls.
Metallic flesh.
A complexion so cold it conjures no sympathy.

A mirage of hope. An opposing effect.
Where will end? They dictate the dead.

credits

from A Nocturnal Psyche, released February 27, 2014

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Obsolete Sun Placentia, California

------ PINOISE ------

The unholy marriage between an abstract existence and the desire for absolute truth

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