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good metal songs

by Flowers to the Welshman at Dusk

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1.
Trial 00:45
The Trial awaits It's made by those who are dead And they don't regret The jury at hand Corpses that now lost in time Decide on your fate The audience observes With narcissistic smiles but They don't smile at you The Trial awaits It's made by those who are dead And they don't forget
2.
Lyrics: lmao
3.
As your warmth courses through my soul The eternal aether envelops my glow The sand in my veins turns into glass As I look in my angel's reflection Her silver ripples envelop my haggard being I was a man, but men are fleeting You can see me, but you don't feel me You can hear me, but you may never listen You may touch me, but I'm a ghost I want to be by your side forever But the will of my body has fallen behind Fingers of silk, dancing through the night A life shattered in it's prime Nothing will ever be fine No more nocturnal soft breasts and red wine Even in death, finality eludes I'd carve your name into my arm But I bleed only nothingness This love I feel for you will linger in the wind As I stand behind you, will I ever rest in peace
4.
The acid moon and the leopard skin sigh The Narcotic Skyline lingers, resigned to its fate Wander amongst urban decay Graffiti on the crumbled walls of yesterday The circus of life is eternal The walls of reality are an illusion The circus of life is eternal The life slithers from this world The life slithers out of me The life slithers out of me The life withers out of the world Shieeeeeeet.
5.
Something inside me It's, it's coming out I feel like gettin' the funk down to this beat My parents were from Boulder, Colorado They thought I looked cutest in a wheelchair So they got me one and said I was disabled When really all I wanted was to dance Only behind closed doors Can I take my feet to the dance floor I can walk, I can slide I can lay a whoopin' on ya hide So miss me With ya ableist shit It ain't like I can't get wid it Maybe everyone's just like me Forced into sedentariness by hippies Born to be free Feet flailing under me And also I never liked Organic gluten-free food GMOs are good for you, Boulder's just really dumb
6.
It was in the winter of 1946 that Edgar von Chandeau, better known by his friends and close acquaintances as Mr. Chandy, finally decided to invent meat. It was during a most uneventful rugby game at the local townhouse, in which his interest for smoked pomegranate and knives was overcome by a surge of creative energy. Few ever questioned Mr. Chandy's penchant for design. However, meat was a most extravagant new frontier, and the prospect of actually eating it didn't agree with the local townsfolk's preferences. It was a ridiculous concept. It was a reddish pink, bloody, and very unpleasant to the nose. On the other hand, Mr. Chandy was sure of the success of his invention. The actual production process was a secret, but his acquaintances were certain it involved a wooden ladle and a cheese grater at some point. Mr. Chandy, ever the gentleman, and ever the businessman, never revealed his original method, not even to his own children. For years, meat remained only as a curiosity to be sold and seldom consumed during boxing matches. Early on, Mr. Chandy's quite violent synthesizing technique left his product with the sweet taste of elongated bananas, and while the slippery, wet texture of meat was complemented by the sweetness, it simply couldn't reach the basic pillar meal status its creator had envisioned. It wasn't until 1932 that meat actually became a respected food item. Its creation, so calculated and precise, was the polar opposite to the way it eventually evolved. Mr. Chandy was hurrying back home from his local church, when his station-wagon malfunctioned and sent its passenger, and a large cargo of meat hurling, through a school and landing into a post office. This, of course, caused the meat to catch fire. The realization hit Mr. Chandy like a ton of meat - that, of course being, that meat had to be set on fire in order to be consumed. Nowadays, hundreds of people enjoy meat worldwide. Its refining process has changed a lot since Mr. Chandy's death in 1946, but the practice of setting it on fire for hours on end before eating it is still in use. Praised for its delicacy, the dry, sandy texture is a favourite in small children and the elderly. However, anybody can pick a taste for some good Mr. Chandy meat. Just don't mix it with bananas.
7.
The dawn glimmers upon an egg that was better off stillborn, dormant in unconsciousness The shell reluctantly cracks, the calcium carbonate shards consumed by the mother for nourishment Enter this existence Fall in line with the primal cadence Or expect any and all resistance All-knowing in ignorance Infancy and its incidents Forcing you to learn Blow by blow Figures segue on and off your path Many die before you as you will before their offspring but for now you trudge onward Into heartbreak, corporate slavery, atrophy, dementia, ostracization and other foul plagues that only consciousness can bring Out of the shroud that shielded your egg from the dawn We know not why your soul was brought into suffering We know not why your soul was brought into suffering Oftentimes we are brought into circumstances that we are not meant to understand We are meant only to find pleasure and peace in the world with the time we are given In the place that we find ourselves Your joints rebel through arthritis Your organs taking on the weight of decades a leprous form emerging your body protesting against a life you were too foolish to end Exit this existence No reward for persistence All reason fades into the distance
8.
The Naiad 08:22
The moonlight shines, lightning up the dark road Crystallized phantoms roam in the trees Like dancing shadows they come Chantings in the wind Young maiden of Artemis She will take your heart to the oracle The huntress awaits now for your soul Mystical dryads in the woods Nymphs of forests lost Their voices come closer now Naiad that protects the lake Her ardent spells domain Eyes that shine in the day await Across the lake of the Limnades A dream of fate warned me Through the dark of the night Oh, see that ahead Is it the light, so bright Shrine maidens follow heed time after time A centennial festival arranged for magical girls A Maiden's capriccio she cast within me, the nymphs dance away Possessed by a lascivous spell Only when you find yourself And encounter the truth Will the nymph of the woods Show herself onto you She will take your heart to the oracle The huntress awaits now for your soul And so the story unfolds In a wheel of light Her spirit forever roams Naiad that protects the lake Her ardent spells domain Eyes that shine in the day await Across the lake of the Limnades
9.
[Instrumental]

about

Compilation of very different and very strange tracks written and recorded between 2012 - 2014. Good luck.

credits

released February 4, 2017

Recorded and mixed by Andrés Murillo
Track 4 by Calum Fraser
Tracks 2 and 9 by Andrés Murillo and Joel Trevarthen
Tracks 5 and 7 by Andres Murillo and Dillon Lyons

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Flowers to the Welshman at Dusk Toronto, Ontario

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