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Book III

by Battersea

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Book III, Parts Unknown, and The Friendship Stone. , and , .

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1.
You cannot push it off On anyone. Nails with rust cover the grass Before mud becomes water. Cross the rust colored lake To find your Sanctuary On the other side. The pine - covered hills Now black - with tar, Forever - in ruin. Once this - was a place Of beauty, - now a shell Of It’s - former self. Tribes roamed Her country side For millennia. The time has dawned For a new man To take your place. A man of peace, Love and understanding. Bend your mind, claim your sovereignty From your oppressors. Your own master Is all you were ever meant to be. To them you are disposable, To me you are irreplaceable. A shock this must be To hear, but it needs To be said. Now to proceed On to the progress Of a new dawn.
2.
In divinity you can relax, Know that you are eternal. Turn to the light and breathe In your fate from the past. When the dark signals reach us, All life will be exhaled in a fiery blaze. Exactly what will happen Is unknown to them. Existential questions - unanswered from beyond. Where do the roots - run and why!? Only in disgust will you see - your failures of creation. Some cosmic offering - to be willed Into suffering - at your will. Time to witness The glorious Conclusion. A reflection of A snake eating Itself from beyond. An infinite loop of - sick jokes and shit Lives on inside - this picture of a picture. Bells and metal clash - together to signify The beginning and ending - of an abomination. Far more questions To be answered. I have just one Question At the moment. What color are we?
3.
Svarog 07:35
White light enters a prism From armor it is cast, Though what comes out Is anything but white. Red light in the form of blood And gore pour from it. A horror to behold once more, Blinded by confusion In this otherwise shadow world. Orange light from a wound, Pours down from ceiling holes, To quench the thirst Of the dead - below it. Dissecting - parts reveals The yellow light - that comes after. Bile and puss - make up What comes out. - a fountain of Infection to bring - about the cleansing end. The next light revealed From the mouth is a green one, It’s shade is reminiscent Of the infection of light past. Further through the prism we are At the point of no escape. The sun is surely behind us As we view the blue rain in the distance. This light will bring water Dripping from tiles, And blood coursing Through veins. At the dawn - of the indigo Morning we - are brought to Violet - tears weeping. The end of the light Has come and gone And for now all is still. Our feet carry us down This path to whatever Waits for us, No matter the outcome. We are slaves by design And the lights keep us moving. Ever toward the Illumination of the colors That once filled us.
4.
From streams of blood I pour my soul. Sprouting wings to view All I have done From afar. This can’t be all, There has to be more…. The carcasses of Their lies gather Under wilting trees. The guns that shot them down Now shoot at sand storms In autumn. To think there Might have been more, But there isn’t. Let it be known That on this day We fought with Our bodies and minds. Now we wait for our feathers To return us to the skies. This is a time to fly high, A time to be birds. Above the rocks and in the clouds, Beaks beckon to us, Yet we have fastened The chains to our own ankles. Acid burns it all away, And to the sky the birds take.
5.
Hair pulled at The roots to Make your spine, Gouge deeper ‘Til the horns Play long. A song Of wind Makes Tall grass bow, Moving Dust through Wet Starved plains. The meeting Of all In identity of the ones - that were lost, The river will - take you home. Covered In mud Your Vessel awaits, Your Celestial Mind Can bring you peace. From your Laughter We both will Read it’s wooden Pages from here Until time’s end.
6.
A breeze carries her voice Through the keyhole. The harsh sound of Abuse calls my name, Says it will make me whole. The door has closed for good, Opened for bad, closed far worse. Dust flies over head In the closets Of the bed rooms Of my nightmares. A high pitch Of the hinges forever droning In August heat, Whoa! Windows sealed, beds made, Scanning eyes look on. Crushing pain still grips me, Still grips me I said. Under the sun I wonder How I will turn out. Once I leave here, I will be nothing but a memory. Something that once existed Through the keyhole. When my hands are full My sorrow will spill over. My complications collapse in the holes on the road. I will dig my nails in the dirt to get over the dog prison and out of here. These plaster walls can’t hold me forever. Sleep is sweat filled while bruises heal to make way for many more. My broken heart carries so much weight. My broken heart has healed on the surface But grows cold once more

about

This is our final album. We recorded most of it before Sarah and Travis moved to Nevada and Colorado, respectively. All of the proceeds from buying the download will go to Girls Rock! Indianapolis.

credits

released May 29, 2020

Ty Winslow - guitar and vocals
Sarah LaBarge - bass and vocals
Travis Swint - drums

All songs written by Battersea
Lyrics by Travis Swint

Engineered, Mixed, and Mastered by Max Barber of Singular Path Audio at his home studio

Produced by Battersea and Max Barber of Singular Path Audio

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Battersea Indianapolis, Indiana

Death-doom, post-metal, sludge weirdos from the midwest

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