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Rota

by Rota

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1.
III 06:11
A paralysis serpentine poach the soul of mountain blood a time-made gravity crushes ancient tomes, a new born sun crushed by cold. The hemlock slaked suicide lips vomit fire in lock and step. The birth and death, repetitive, of the mountain son, carved from stone. Paralysis serpentine, poach the soul of mountain blood. Hemlock slacked suicides, vomit fire for mountain blood. Birth and death repetitive for the one carved from stone. They steal the blood.
2.
II 09:46
Synthesis from impact a star with no gravity. The unasked wish of day from night will burn plaster crowns from pathetic heads a forged blade, strike and grow with healed chasms, walk a new earth broken ground theology leave human bondage, sing the scars breathe in the cold, breathe in the burn.
3.
I 05:28
Rising filth in the leeches gut, drains the starved for celebration. The blood of swans, his opiate. Step aside, celestial shield, I'll forego my fields, forego the name. The maiden breaks, he honors you, that fattened thief, he honors you. A restrained titan with the stolen dream, hears a taunting tone, and you coddle him. That rotten cunt, teasing the lost, you're feeding him, you're hiding him. From created steel, you're hiding sin. Bring me the severed head of John the bastard. Or its seventeen miles from a beautiful crime. Bring me his severed head.
4.
IV 07:01
The coiled shred intestinal orchestrated movements of sixty four corner and beg for blasphemy and indignant charters for faith retrogressional this is not the time it's never the time. Sow forth a sorrow's harvest in the name of dark and light worship the never to exist throw time to uncaring moons a privileged addict, a broken chronometer inevitable ignition is your fate.

credits

released June 8, 2016

WS—baritone guitar
JT—vox
JC—drums
JB—bass guitar
BB—guitar

Recorded by Will Killingsworth at Dead Air Studios.

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Rota Albany, New York

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