St. Paul, Minnesot'as True Metal Record Store (RIP as of Dec. 24, 2015)
Rumors of this blog’s dissolution (mostly started by me; I had to fill the time somehow) have been greatly exaggerated.
Now that it is summer and summer = death metal (think about it), I’ll leave you with an appropriate tribute to Into the Void’s resilience. Summer is also the time whence the frost has receded and we can again bury our enemies the fun and old-fashioned way, i.e. with rusty spades and a fifth of paint-peeling bourbon under sickening moonlight. Also without checking that our target is dead because fuck that.
More of everything coming soon.
Scratching at the box, hand stretches from the earth.
Deceased before I am dead, denounced since birth.
Alone in this dark void, left to deal with my fear.
No way to escape the embrace of the dead.
Body numb does not respond, my mind sees all.
Coroner tags me for burial, ignoring life’s call.
My body left to rot yet the blood still flows.
Lowered down into my plot, the soil is now my home.
Release of my soul is impossible to me.
When I still possess it how can it be free?
Not dead yet, why am I ignored?
Mourning for the dead.
Not dead yet, while I still live.
Premature burial, premature burial.
Pronounced dead, I still see I lie motionless.
A mind that’s still alert while functions cease.
Awake, I still am forever trapped.
The light of day it now will never be seen.
The crawling of the insects, is all that I now feel.
Alive upon my flesh, my death is not real.
Not dead yet, premature burial,
Mourning for the dead, premature burial,
Expiration met, premature burial,
I still live, premature burial,
Kill me, premature burial.