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The Insomnia

by Last Sun

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1.
We are placed on this earth to commit deicide To consume the entrails of sacred cows and pious swine To drink our fill of the intoxicant called irreverence We are too blessed to waste our breath on worship We waste our breath on worship Father raised a vibrant daughter named iconoclast He abandoned the sallow son known as conformist Our irrevocable gift is convalescence Thank God for the blasphemers Thank God for the restless trespassers We fever for good reason Scorn those immobile who sleep peacefully wrapped in sheets fashioned from our bloody hides May our calluses disturb their slumber We dream while we are awake Refuge is untenable We drink and dance, and scatter the ashes of deities new and old These insomniac eyes scan the earth in search of pain May it be relieved May your bruised soul be set free from the grief of orthodoxy
2.
I will accept incisions from surgeons, but not lashes from lepers I will remove the cataracts myself if need be Our lives are not made wretched by demons and asps They're made so by cowards, hypocrites, and panderers When the dumb lead the blind, and the blind raise the young It falls on those with sharper tongues to not let eyes be sewn shut When they describe dissent as illness, become the fever they have feared Add your own to the book of names that they have smeared I cannot live with myself when I fall victim to morbid complacency Your ways are not for me I cannot live with myself when I fall victim to morbid complacency Your ways are not for me Let my loving misanthropy be my medicine mask Determined to move the needle that brings medication to the comatose class
3.
See Red 03:39
Call me solar disinfectant No desire to punish or silence the sad bigot and his friends Illuminate the night and watch the damned fools scatter Why should I pierce your skin or fracture your bones I'd sooner asphyxiate your ideology and hang its carcass in the town square for all to see You will be denied oxygen Your flame will die Why should I pierce your skin or fracture your bones I'd sooner asphyxiate your ideology and hang its carcass in the town square for all to see You will be denied oxygen Your flame will die Understand that this land is not yours Every border is inherently porous Ethnic nationhood is a fantasy longed for by the abhorrent There are no static identities You're not pure like you claim to be Ungrateful beneficiary of diversity The superior race is just a ghost in your head Your poor philosophy is nothing more than euphony for the inbred You will be denied martyrdom status by the peaceful slayers of the confused and dogmatic May the pallid face of collectivism shed another tear Mad cattle see red The bloodline ends Your bones meet soil and your name is just forgotten Our eyes bloodshot as we salt the earth around your coffin You drew a bloodline in the sand, now your parting time has come Free expression here lives on, but your legacy does not
4.
New Puritan 03:22
They gave up on changing minds, and started smashing skulls Spoiled wretches with too much time pretending to be noble We see your sublimated bloodlust for what it really is A dagger in the back of progress You say the words but don't know what they mean You say the words but don't know what they really mean You arrogant flesh on stilts You confused bastard Begging for attention through petty moralism and ostentatious displays of phoney virtue You are the opposite of the things you claim to fight for You know not what you do Pray for forgiveness and discard this flawed strategy Deserter of the war of ideas Slanderer of true visionaries Egotist wrapped in stolen valour Pat yourself on the back as you trample on flowers that were planted here long ago Lock yourself in echo chambers and hum the song of the authoritarian You are wrong A product of miseducation Your ways failed then, and they fail now Every insomniac eye contains specks A small price to pay for the removal of planks that render you blind Head of deadwood Fuel the inferno and then demand admiration from those who are burnt New puritan You are on the wrong side of history New puritan We won't regress
5.
Iris 04:13
I know that you know pain I know you know fatigue On bitter days it can be such a struggle to paint the world gay Recall that you are not a portrait You are a pixel, unable to comprehend the scope of the image that you help comprise This will be clear in time If you find yourself feeling robbed of vibrance, embrace the beauty of grayscale Purge the parts of yourself that are sick If you find yourself feeling robbed of vibrance, embrace the beauty of grayscale Purge the parts of yourself that are sick And help the world do the same When conviction begins to leave the faces of those around you Learn to find comfort in decay Use this blessed grey matter to prevent the earth you walk on from being drained of colour That Goddess Iris resides within your skull Bright sphere A circle of life Become my iris Become my Iris Insomniacs will trace what they see, and the comatose will suffer accordingly

credits

released January 11, 2019

Engineered, mixed, and mastered by Vince Soliveri

Vocals by Kyle O'Meara

Guitars by Francesco Sturino and Brad Brohman

Bass and Drums by Brad Brohman

Lyrics by Francesco Sturino

Artwork by Samantha Le Grand

Additional guitar on "See Red" by Vince Soliveri

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Last Sun Ontario

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