Portals to a Better, Dead World

by Cara Neir

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  • 12" Vinyl
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1.
Peridot 04:40
Asking for your hand was the best thing And I can sense you here in the plains of redemption Wings spread, taken into a homely place familiar feelings You're with me now and I insure your protection Unearthed from its once burrowed disposition developed under harsh conditions The lost soul details his crime as the insidious beckon him to relapse Stress slapped from his face she kisses his swollen figure bred from an angry past Crossed off my list, these dying agents come back for one last breath Asking for your hand was the best thing And I can sense you here in the plains of redemption Wings spread, taken into a homely place familiar feelings You're with me now. I insure your protection Unearthed from its once burrowed disposition developed under harsh conditions The lost soul details his crime as the insidious beckon him to relapse One red cross on my chest - a mark led by her divinity brings to this This blessed coffin where my dreams of nothing let hate encroach Surrendering nothing while accepting it all, it made the choice to lift me Lift me away from this bed where I writhe
2.
Freedom stripped again from your dusted clutches Thrown away into the cosmos The evils that scold you Imagination bookmarked like a dictionary for reference, no individual thoughts. None Manipulation sent bobbing for hope afloat orange waters. Fucked Ego palette used to saturate that burning desire to be something... but they're not Thrown away into the cosmos The evils that scold you
3.
Untold mythos thought to strike from Heavens boring holes the size of geo-metros From under our earth they conspire with worms These planted seeds, they're waiting to transform Constant assaults, targets ignorant and tame, the strong enslaved Flowering blacks have raped the clays, our saviors push me under mind No morning sun to rise and poke your eyes Blacked out by tides that seek to cleanse your life Exploiting systems gathering what we need to survive No more sun to come and wake you from your lie Fold like a deck of cards, a subservient man abhorred
4.
Shutting the blinds first prepping for the evening Open up the bag of seeds, slightly contorted bead priority Clammy germ obtains the seed, operating selflessly... Spare the on-ramp, highway speeds exhaust his lunacy Where do you fall? We're all placemats to dogs The substance keeps like glue Tying up your arm again are you? I am Brick dust compound rotten fruit; try Tell me, what are those men doing over there? Injection sport shotguns commence at the docks harbored by the H trade
5.
Pulling back, flinch from the nails driven into your knees Pouring wax, kidneys clamped like the snowstorm in your eyes - god damn this blue spire This is how it happens, this is new man's catch Simply grow them by the dozen before you slip into the new man's foxhole This is how it happens, this is new man's catch The stupid cupids grant your wish and summon sister's laws and cheat your way in Henry murdered Karen and the spoiled son too, he knew this spider had spun a past vile
6.
Too many wasted bombs on others, too many wasted seeds of deceit Too much contrast to boast a helpful word in this world that rewards hate with a suite You could save them for our own mass of morons, pulsating void of ignorance Cloaked men invited from your union, two-faced murderers on a steady boat Too many disappearing motivators looking to pay, dissipate, discard I run the front desk - the hall they incessantly thrive in Hiding away not from the plagues, it's the demons, installing their pain
7.
3,380 Pounds 10:04
In some hell dug miles below, I pray As down here, we've all met God Dried mud on the wall, a portrait blessed Peasant-bound in this hole, So I look to the wall And it speaks: "Sun set. Why rest? All fall. We crawl."** But as I begin to decay my bladder spirals out of control And as I soil my cloths these lashings fall as my back begins to mold Contour to the pain that I don't feel in but outside These tears of stitched lips, I cry out of remorse Eat the bugs I'm fed, Textures of almond brittle Hug the chains that leave hickies on my wrists Link all the decades before this to fake your mind Mud God, come help: "Sun set. Why rest? All fall. We crawl." Through eyes full of dirt you wouldn't see much but shit Not true; our hope was lost before all of this Even in my last hours I find my place and think of you These tears of stitched lips, I don't cry out of remorse I cry for something more... (atoms splitting, callous thickening, bridges burning, paradigms shifting, something's building)

about

VINYL co-released on Broken Limbs Recordings and Halo Of Flies Records. 100 on green smoke vinyl and 400 on black vinyl.

credits

released October 31, 2013

Chris Francis (vocals, lyrics)
Garry Brents (guitars, bass, drum programming, samples, backing vox on tracks 2-7, lyrics for chorus and ending on track 7)

All Songs Written from March - June 2012
Recorded, Mixed, and Mastered by Garry Brents (GAB Recordings)
Front and Back Cover Artwork/Layout by Nate Burns
Lyrics Insert Artwork by Lucy Boyakhandjyan

Guest Musicians:
Jan Slezak (backing yells/screams on tracks 2 and 3)
Drew Weston-Ball (backing screams on tracks 1, 2, 3, and 5)
Leon Perkin (ending vocals on track 7)
Dominique Patton (chorus vocals on track 7)
Blake Turner (cello intro for track 6, cello on track 7)

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Cara Neir Dallas

est. 2008 arlington, tx.

chris francis
garry brents

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