DEAD AND LOVING IT EP

by Trauma Harness

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released October 31, 2013

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Trauma Harness St. Louis, Missouri

gloomy vibes from st. louis catching you with a death bag.

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Track Name: Devil Motor Ω
REVVED UP, AND BUILT UP FOR THE LAST TIME

YOU’RE UNDER MY CHASSIS, FOR MILES

CRAFTED IN SPITE AND PAIN

THE BIRDS PICK AT TRAILS OF REMAINS

DON’T TRY TO TELL ME THAT I NEED TO IMPROVE

COZ I DON’T HAVE GOVERNOR LEFT TO REMOVE

BEYOND THE RED AND MAROON GROOVES

THE BLOOD AND OIL THAT LOOMS OVER YOU

DETECTING SHRIEKS AND PANICKING MOANS

THE ENDLESS SPURTS THAT RUMBLE AND GROAN

IN CHANCE OF URGENCY, A FINAL LOAN

LEAVING TRACKS WHERE I ROAM

TERROR AND METAL COMBINE

THROUGH MY LEOPARD PRINT INTERIOR DESIGN

THE CORPSES ALL LEFT OUT AMONGST THE ROAD

THE BURNING SMELL OF RUBBER, AGAINST BONE

MY CHROME ENGINE IS MADE TO UNDO

THE CHOICE IS MADE IT’S NOT UP TO YOU

POISON SEEPS FROM EVERY ANGULAR GROOVE

DRIPPING DOWN THE ACIDS EAT THROUGH

ALTHOUGH DESTROYED I CONTINUE TO MOVE

EVEN IN DEATH I’LL ALWAYS PURSUE

THE ENDLESS TIME OF WAITING IS THROUGH

YOU’LL ONLY DIE IN THE FINAL MOVE

TRY TO RUN AWAY, IN UNREACHABLE ALLEYWAYS

JUST WHEN YOU THINK THE STREETS ARE CLEAR

I’LL FIND YOU, I’LL FIND YOU, I’LL FIND YOU, I’LL FIND YOU

DRUGGED UP, AND CUT UP FOR THE LAST TIME

THE BLUSH IN YOUR FACE DISAPPEARS

THE FINAL, RECEIVING, CUTTHROAT

HEADING STRAIGHT INTO THE COLLISION
Track Name: Moving Swamp
I’VE GOT A SECRET, AND IT’S A LONG ONE
THE STORIES ENDLESS, MOVING SLOWLY
AND THROUGH THE DURESS, I’LL FEEL THE CARESS
THE SHAPE AND FORM OF IRRESISTIBLE SLUDGE
HUSH, HUSH, THE MOVING SWAMP
OH ITS A STRAIGHT LINE, TO THE END NOW
AND THERES NO PROGRESS
EVAPORATING
THE FLUID SWIRLS, DISSOLVE THE BODY
THE NUMBING AGENTS, ENCUMBER THE MIND
HUSH, HUSH THE MOVING SWAMP
THE SPINNING STOPS, I FEEL NO CARESS
NOTHING REMAINS, I WAIT FOR THE END
HUSH, HUSH, THE MOVING SWAMP
Track Name: Pumpkinhead
THE BRAIN IS GONE, THE JAW IS ROTTING

I HAVE NO WEIGHT OR FORM

THE REMAINING HALF CONTINUES ONWARD

SLOWLY MARCHING ON

THROUGH THE EYEHOLES, THE LITTERED STREETS

THE TREES THAT ARCH WHERE NO LIGHT SHINES

YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS OF WAITING

THE EYES BEHIND, THE PRIVATE ROAD

GOUGE THROUGH THE ORANGE MASK

GOUGE THROUGH THE YELLOW SKIN

CARRY ON WHAT YOU DO

STILL STOPPING, FACIAL CRACKS

SEWAGE RUNNING OUT

IT DROPS AMONGST THE BLACK ASPHALT

THE PRESSURE INSIDE OUTSIDE CRIPPLING

AND THOUGH IT ALL LACKS CLOSURE

AND THOUGH THE WAIT IS LONG

THE BLACK MOLD GROWS AROUND THE CREASE

GROWING ON AND ON

AND THOUGH IT ALL LACKS CLOSURE

AND THOUGH THE WAIT IS LONG

THE BLACK MOLD GROWS AROUND THE CREASES

THE ROTTING SMILE LINGERS ON