| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 4:25 | 
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| 2. |
| 3:06 |
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| 3. |
| 3:38 | 
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Something more graceful felt like leading you to war
It sounds so distasteful, more than what you're fighting for More flights of stairs derailed, your ascent it falls so slow Your body and love impaled on the spikes you left below Grief turned to currency just like midas touched it black Like rage in its infancy, you're afraid it might turn back A flag slashed by injured nights in a fist outside your past Waves only eclipsed by fright in its glory at half-mast You can't beat denial, it's the murder of your past A line drawn hard and broken down To lie outside your grasp I fooled you by way of greed But it opened up your eyes Too deep down in your hallowed nerves But it came as no surprise Your silent servant dragged abyss across the ground To wallow sleeplessly on everything you found Afraid lasts a lifetime and it crosses paths with mine Lost fades its energy, in the end we both but shrine So ends disgraceful, ride me back to where I rain Controlled and quarantined, impure, distressed and stained Your war so makeshift, as if a path through broken seas Your faith so restless as you turn to talk to me |
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| 4. |
| 3:36 |
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| 5. |
| 3:29 |
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| 6. |
| 4:09 |
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| 7. |
| 5:42 |
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King mob in a plastic iceberg
Smoking water damaged cigarettes Observe as he works your wasteland Pulling punches that you never met Controlled in a listless air stream Jets are breathing in his latex eyes True to form, he is scared to touch them And your wasteland stays vandalized Success in a cut glass wardrobe All the clothes loose like shredded hair Dream escapes to a closet class war King mob in a smashed wheel chair Nerve gas for the walking wounded Suffocating in a sadists' prayer Flaming horses on a fading landscape Break the surface but there is no air King mob as he vents his anger Throws a brick through the city gates Backfires on his wordless offspring The population disintegrates Cold stream plus a wash of carbon Drives his mind like an engine room Cogs turning like a flawed stage whisper King mob sings a lifeless tune Surface stop Pressure drop King mob Faded wrists and the risks worth taking Cleans his blade with dreams he froze Metal moments fed on foreign textures Breaks his mind with the things he knows King mob at his withered console Electric arcades run on secret oils Flicks a switch and he's the God of anger Pulls a handle and the wasteland spoils |
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| 8. |
| 3:16 |
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From the moment I woke
In receipt of a blackmail note And these curious eyes A new disease of the last seen eyes A live Christ in the city I got my black-eyed mind I'm gonna poison up the wrong way 'round Like a bad design It's in the way that I'm cold Left dealing with a famished soul I won't give you the time It's greed sparked in a goldmine I can't view your condition It's as failed as they come Great failures are forced Into our famished eyes with a gun It's in the way that I'm cold Left dealing with a famished soul It's all fake as they come Burn my eyes like a sunset gun Your point of collapse My mark of indifference It's all fake as they come Burn my eyes like a sunset gun It's not like you care Even at my insistence It's all fake as they come Burn my eyes like a sunset gun I won't give you the time It's grief sparked in a goldmine It's in the way that I'm cold Left dealing with a famished soul It's all as fake as they come Burn my eyes like a sunset gun Burn my eyes like a sunset gun (Like a sunset gun) Burn my eyes like a sunset gun (Like a sunset gun) Burn my eyes like a sunset gun (Like a sunset gun) Burn my eyes like a sunset gun (Like a sunset gun) |
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| 9. |
| 3:29 |
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| 10. |
| 4:05 |
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| 11. |
| 5:57 |
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| Disc 2 | ||||||
| 1. |
| 4:45 |
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| 2. |
| 5:14 |
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| 3. |
| 3:21 |
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| 4. |
| 4:00 |
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We have been worthless,
we have been safe, in minds belittled by the threat, of our own ice age. A fall distorts us, and where we've been, rewriting bastards as contenders- sight unseen, In place of angels, butchers hands, too wide to fit through doors of virtue, blame, demand. Blame and demand. We count for distance, from human nerves, we count for all the things we take, that we don't deserve, all contradictions will make us stand to fake the end as the beginning blame, demand. Blame and demand. |
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| 5. |
| 4:10 |
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| 6. |
| 5:12 |
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| 7. |
| 7:48 |
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| 8. |
| 7:10 |
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| 9. |
| 4:46 |
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| 10. |
| 6:39 |
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| 11. |
| 5:27 |
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