This time is full of corpses
And the rotting hearts
As if there's no more room in Hell.
This time's to ask this time
To end and not to come
Clenching palms, praying out loud.
We stand all alone
With no shields, with no swords -
Legions of defenseless.
Our homes stand ice-cold
Even laying on shore of oil-sea.
When the Demons mow down our lines
They can't devastate us.
When the Devils recall our pride
What do they want from us? -
[Chorus:
Eyeless esteem,
Voiceless worship,
Lamb for beating -
We are not the right kind of meat.
Our heads are on our necks,
Our troubles never last forever.
Our lives are in our hands
To raise them up outta this Hell.] There is hope for the rough,
There's escape for the slut -
In the end they'll be laughers.
This Hell's equity lefts nothing to me
And my crystal heart.
[Chorus:]
This is who we are -
Real angels against them.
Our casual sins are fruits
Of their deadly ones.
Let our souls and heart sing
In the harmony -
Divided, disagreed
We shall never break this Underworld
Where in all the cracks
Are their hoofs and horns,
It is prestige to be a whore.
Must we be set into their fire?
Is that our fate?
No one covers our backs.
No one mourns of our deads.
Drowned man must rescue himself.
Scalding metalcore from Spain, “Where the Waves Are Born” swings from clean to growled vocals over blindingly intricate fretwork. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 19, 2023
Supplementing sasscore insanity with bolstered vocals and pop-punk songcraft, the California band are kicking ass and breaking boundaries. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 21, 2024