Lyrics
The lyrics to our debut self-titled album. All lyrics written by Andrew Tompkins.
Hi Neil
OUT OF THE SILENCE
(based on the novel "Out of the Silence" which you can read here)
Buried in time under the earth, waiting in night. Aeons have passed, world has moved on, we’re out of sight. What is that movement, what is that sound, what can I hear? Something has happened, something is wrong, someone is near. Into the blackness, onto the stairway, into the chamber, out of the silence, out of the silence now. How could mankind unlock the secrets, who could have known? Who could decipher the entry sequence without being shown? One man descending into the darkness, at war with his fear. Finding a woman kept in suspension, held in this sphere. Benediction of ancient humans. She did enter this living tomb. The sphere holds the answers to millions of questions, the knowledge of man. This woman has powers beyond comprehension, and one simple plan. To rule the world with the technology and powers she wields. Civilizations have risen and fallen, but now all shall yield. Into the blackness, onto the stairway, into the chamber, out of the silence, out of the silence. Bloody murder, she collapses, he joins her in death.
This song is based on an incredible scifi novel from 1919 written by a Melbourne journalist. It deals with a man discovering a buried sphere on his property. After he gets past the security mechanisms, he discovers a woman inside the sphere in suspended animation, along with a library containing the combined knowledge of a previous human society which existed millions of years before. The woman has incredible powers and knowledge and has plans to rule the world along with 2 others in similar spheres buried in other parts of the world, to lead mankind into a new beneficent age. The main character is enchanted by her, and this woman from the past is ultimately murdered by the jealous rage of the man's fiancee. In the end, he carries her body back to the sphere and destroys it along with himself.
SCOURGE OF DEMOCRACY
You are not alone, millions gave their voice empowering the one. You are not alone, the mandate is corrupt now that the deal is done. You are, you are mine, taken from the sands of time. You are draped in lies smiling towards your own demise. You are not alone, saying what it takes to satisfy the some. You are not alone, everyone can see what you have become. You are, you are mine, taken from the sands of time. You are draped in lies smiling towards your own demise. You and I cannot atone for the scourge of democracy. You can just cling to your throne. Kill my rights, why not just kill me.
This song explores our assumption that democracy is the greatest political good and how I have misgivings about how the West wanders about imposing democracy on everyone. Trouble is, at the same time the West will use the popular media to effectively convince (ie. coerce) the public into voting for them and once they have the 'mandate' feel they can do just about anything which vaguely resembles what they promised. This means they have no actual respect for democracy as they try to 'trick' people into voting for them, while at the same time telling other cultures that any alternative political mechanism is an insult to the rights of their people.
THE VOICE OF TREASON
Victims of the damned, running from your persecution. Vengeance is at hand, take what you can. Victims of the damned, fleeing from your execution to another land, take what you can. Feed that violence, keep your silence. Age of reason, voice of treason. See what they give, that’s how they live. See where they lie, that’s where they die. Final border stands in their way. Now it’s time for us to take it away. People deserve to have more than we choose to give.
This song is about political refugees and the fact that the final border which stands in their way when they seek refuge is not political borders or geography but rather our reluctance as a society to help our fellow man. It drives me mad that we have such a protectionist view of our own nations. I understand the need for borders for the purpose of governance, security, culture and economic benefit. But why close borders when someone will die if you don't let them in? A human life is worth more than our own protectionist ideals as a society.
PROGRAMMED CELL DEATH
All that you know is a lie, all you believe you have known. All of your actions belie the nature of pain in my zone. Let’s ride, programmed cell death. Meaning has been set aside, carnage is all that I know. Nowhere is safer to hide, there is nowhere you can go. So let’s ride, programmed cell death. All that you hear, all that you touch, all that you taste. All that you read, all that you know, all that you waste. All that you have, all that you want, all that you see. All that you were, all that you are, means nothing to me. It goes cell by cell, it goes through your brain. It just goes to show that you’re not the same. So let’s ride, programmed cell death. You’re falling down, you’re trying to cling to the breath of life. You’re falling down, you’re losing your mind and your destiny. You’re falling down, you’re trying to breathe as your body dies. You’re falling down, you’re drowning in fate as it crushes you. Programmed cell death.
This is a song about living with cancer, told from the cancer's perspective. It's an insidious disease and the thing that's always fascinated me is the fact that you spend your life being careful, protecting your property and yourself from harm etc, but then one day for almost no reason at all, your own body decides to start killing you. Your own body lets you down. And that's not the worst of it - the worst thing is that no matter who you are and no matter where you go, it remains with you. Failing effective treatment (which is always a medical case of 'beating the odds') you can't get away from it.
RISING HATRED
Rising hatred. Creeping through the valleys, crawling under dark skies. Trying not to notice that look in his dead eyes. Waking nightmare, she can’t begin to find solace in the darkness. Don’t believe his lies, he does not care, he is a worthless coward. Daylight raping violence, the screams are heard both near and far now. Rising hatred, bleeding on the ground. Rising hatred, screaming with no sound. Rising hatred, scraping by in pain. Rising hatred, cannot speak its name. All his life he has lived as a coward treating as nothing that which he has. In the end it is he who will suffer. In the end it is he who will suffer at the hands of quid pro quo. Calling to her maker, seeking out an ending. He won’t even notice how she keeps pretending. Waking nightmare, she can’t begin to find solace in the darkness. Don’t believe his lies, he does not care, he is a useless coward. Daylight raping violence. Rising hatred, bleeding on the ground. Rising hatred, screaming with no sound. Rising hatred, scraping by in pain. Rising hatred, cannot speak its name. She’ll take her time, one of them will die.
This song is about domestic violence, the unspoken assault, and the way violence can beget violence: "She'll take her time, one of them will die."
BENEATH CONTEMPT
Stay where you are, don’t move away. Want to make sure I hear what you say. Make it sound good just as you should. Now that you’re here let’s not waste time. Walk to the left, follow the sign. Black, white or grey, do what I say. I will attempt to prove you are beneath contempt. It’s what you are, not what others see. Please take your place, and look to the floor. You must remain for what is in store. See what I hold, the mirror, it’s so cold. Don’t you know if you go they will see you are me.
A song about self-loathing associated with people who publicly claim to be good - such as political or religious leaders and pastors - but are really in private just as vile as everyone else - and perhaps more so because of the veneer of goodness they project as a kind of promise to the people who look to them for leadership. After all "it's what you are (that matters), not what others see."
IMMINENT PARTICLE COLLISION
Plotting and planning to finish their construction, deep within the earth the authors of destruction gather on borders, they feared they would never be ready to turn on the largest machine ever. Although they have some knowledge, they understand so little. They’re searching for the edge of the plane of this reality. Nowhere to hide if the experiment turns us all into nothing, a dark singularity. It could take aeons but destiny beckons, to tear down a planet, it could take just seconds. Tearing through this spacetime particles race to take our lives. Imminent particle collision racing to collide and smash into the walls of time. We all should know the risk they take. They all should know just what’s at stake. Imminent particle collision, race to take our lives. This singularity taking us into where the laws of physics have to cease to be. They play with fire praying it won’t burn as they conspire (to test their) conceited grand theories. Although they have some knowledge, they understand so little. They’re searching for the edge of the plane of this reality. To tear down a planet, it could take just seconds.
A song about the Large Hadron Collider, a massive particle collider they have built under the French-Swiss border to explore the very nature of matter. They will basically be smashing protons into each other at high energy to release and 'hopefully' observe sub-atomic particles such as the Higgs Boson. They will start smashing protons in the next month or so (late 2008). If they don't see this 'theoretical' particle, it could mean that the Standard Model of particle physics is completely wrong, and they would have to go back to the drawing board in our understanding of the nature of matter. Of course, there's a chance they will also create mini black holes in the process but the overriding 'assumption' is that they will be quite unstable and disappear almost instantly. Well, I'm glad they're 'sure' about that, because we wouldn't want the Earth to be sucked into a man-made black hole (singularity) just because of the arrogant self-assuredness of modern science.
FRACTURED CORTEX
Fractured cortex, mind games take their toll. Fractured cortex, thinking pain. Failure derides, regret threatens, hatred simmers, always there in fractured cortex, mind games take their toll. Fractured cortex, thoughts of pain. Find the lies, bind regret, close your eyes then look again. Fractured cortex, mind games take their toll. Fractured cortex, thinking pain. Hatred of self, doubting lingers, uncertainty dominates you. Find the lies, bind regret, close your eyes then look again. Fractured cortex, mind games take their toll. Fractured cortex, thoughts of pain.
This is a song about mental illness and, particularly in relation to chronic anxiety, the way the mind obsesses over regrets, and how the mind can play games with itself in a self-sustaining cycle of guilt and fear.
BURIED ALIVE
Rats have spread the diseases, tearing our cities to pieces. Taking the old and the younger, nothing can satiate its hunger. You’re lowered down into the ground. You’re from afar, don’t know where you are. You’re lowered down into the ground. You’re unaware, you’ll run out of air. Try to survive under the ground dirt all around. Buried alive, scream as you pound, making no sound. Buried alive, buried alive you scream. No one can stop this black madness, every soul wretched with sadness. Many were thought to be long dead, so they were buried as they slept. Open your eyes, let it sink in, what a surprise, screaming begins. Open your mind, take in your fate, then you will find it is too late. Piles of corpses, small and big, buried as fast as they could dig. Inside the coffins were scratched feeding the rumours of undead. You’re lowered down into the ground. You’re from afar, don’t know where you are. You’re lowered down into the ground. You’re unaware, you’ll run out of air. Try to survive under the ground dirt all around. Buried alive, scream as you pound, making no sound. Buried alive, buried alive you scream no.
This song is about the black plague which variously ravaged Europe over hundreds of years and killed about 50% of the population of Europe at one point. The poor often buried their dead in pits, those who could afford it did use coffins, and some were buried in haste - buried alive - if they slipped into a coma in order to try to contain the spread of the plague. Of course, when noises were heard from the buried coffins, and some coffins were later found to have scratches on the inside, it was this which fed widespread superstitions about the 'undead'.
PUNISHMENT
(based on the novel "Crime and Punishment" which you can read here)
Coming up the stairs, force my way in, wait til she turns, take out my axe. I strike her head, she is now dead. Someone arrives, must take two lives. It’s eating me inside, I’ve never felt this way. The vision’s in my mind, I cannot get away. All I know is I am no criminal. All I fear is a time of punishment. All knowing, my rationale for killing two innocents. Hiding evidence, sleep through the day, covered in blood, no going back. Visitors call, just make them wait, cannot get up, not in this state. It’s eating me inside, my conscience is enslaved. It dominates my mind, I cannot now be saved. Betray me, expose me, release me, unearth me. All I know is I am my accuser. All I crave is my time of punishment. Betray me, expose me, release me, unearth me.
Based on the Russian classic novel "Crime and Punishment" by Dostoyevsky, this song explores the moral superiority the main character feels at the beginning, the justification he holds for killing a money lender so he can use the money for the pursuit of his much more worthwhile Napoleonic objectives, and his subsequent decline into realising just how base he is, and that his only moral atonement for his crime is to stop running and accept his punishment.
COVERED IN PAIN
I’m covered in pain, your agony, that is my stain. I’m here to malign your perfect name, all in good time. I’m covered in pain, your agony, that is my stain. I’m here to beguile all of the world, killing in style. They wait to see if I will leave, be thrown, or die. Bow down now, say your prayers, don’t look round, beg for life. I’m covered in pain, your agony, that is my stain. I’m here to malign your perfect name, all in good time. I’m covered in pain, your agony, that is my stain. I’m here to beguile all of the world, killing in style. Bow down now, say your prayers, don’t look round, beg for life. Fake king, faking, fake king, faking all. Riding the highs of seduction. Counting the cost of production. Dealing with any obstruction. Paving the path to destruction. I’m covered in pain, my agony, that is my shame. I’m here for my trial knowing you will kill me in style. Climb stairs now, say my prayers, don’t look down, wait for death. Fake king, faking, fake king, faking.
A song about dictators who abuse their power to suppress opposition, kill their people while the world watches and waits for them to either leave, be overthrown or die. They are stained by the suffering of their people. All the while they act as if everything is fine and laugh as the world debates how to handle them. We saw it with Saddam Hussein in Iraq, and we see it similarly with the actions this year of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. Ultimately, Saddam Hussein was hanged, so that's how the song ends too.
