The Ghastly Paraphernalia of Our Beneficial Trade

by blowupnihilist

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00:42
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01:04
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02:37
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01:02
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01:12
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00:48
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credits

released June 6, 2006

All music written by Andre Sanabria
Recorded by Andrew Gormley at the Red Room (Seattle, WA)
Mastered by Alan Douches At West Westside (New Windsor, NY)

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license

all rights reserved

about

blowupnihilist Seattle, Washington

• four track tapes: 1999-2003

• live performance, studio recordings: 2003-present

Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.

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Track Name: Exequies
Exequies:

It ends like this, in exile.
A gateway left opens
an unattended doorway.
What exits can enter;
these uninvited guests.
Alone you’ll see them,
in time you’ll know.

This isn’t a warning,
it’s too late to stop them.
We’re under attack without our defenses.

The dead hate the living, like forgotten children. Violence in this building replays in these walls.
Track Name: Oran
Oran:

Rotting corpses lost to the sun,
exhumed and posed; placed on display.

Some bodies can’t speak for themselves.

Mass graves expose those we can’t define.
Track Name: Sedated in The Quiet Room
Sedated In the Quiet Room:

So hard to look at the sky,
the sun burns my eyes.
Almost peaceful, faces are
beautiful and disfigured.
No eyes left open to weep for the dead.

What we can’t see is what’s worse.
Track Name: Zetetic Astronomy
Zetetic Astronomy:

At the end of the world party, honoring the flat earth society,
we stood at the edge.

Staring out into the void it’s filled with blackness so indescribable.

And if you’re with us you’ll find life can exist in this darkness
that consumes me.

Washed away in a sea of night; in these shadows you will find me.
Track Name: Porphyria
Porphyria:

I want to cut you open.
I want to eat your heart;
but it’s a bad heart
filled with transparent blood.

The point of entry bled like a sonnet,
teeth marks on skin,
limbs pulled from the socket.

It’s hard to believe this could ever happen.
Perceptions polarize one final action.
The meats too sweet, rotting flesh tastes poisoned. Almond eyes look almost alive, glorified.
Track Name: Grotesque Parody Of Crucifixion
Grotesque Parody of Crucifixion:

Mouth made from grenades,
a victim of the modern age.
Cross examination of reality,
a non-contingent model.

All I can think of is tomorrow,
lined up alongside accomplices.
Well soon my blood will be
sprayed on the brick behind me.
Track Name: Evidence of a Psychotic Break
madness grows out of evil...
Track Name: Ataxia
Ataxia:

Go ahead it’s your to treat, these symptoms mask disorder.
Address the unimpressed; they’re all so affected.
Like bad children and corpses locked in a room neglected.
Track Name: Orpheus At The Tomb
Orpheus At The Tomb:

A firestorm waiting for a spark.
An incision that leaves no mark.
I am one with no identity,
among the masses just like me.
I am a god, I have a destiny.
Track Name: A Rope Over An Abyss
A Rope Over An Abyss:

Transfixed on the flame.
The matchstick burns my fingertips,
and once again it’s darkness
all throughout this endless hallway.
I’m taking you with me.
Something ugly has happened here,
you’ll soon see the beauty.
In death all becomes clear.
Track Name: Ka
Ka:

Bodies full of maggots
Nothing left for us.
Dead lips whisper, “It’s over.”
We drank blood out of thirst.
"Things will be better one day."
I thought you would help me.
But you ruin everything.
Track Name: City On The Edge of Forever
City On The Edge Of Forever:

"Clouds came in so quickly, had no time to respond."
Much of this we know from bloodstains on walls.
Lifeless fingers wrote the tale.
Haunts the damned forever.
Impulse creates chaos, (no one can save this city now...)
Lost somewhere in limbo.
Past the point of no return.
Next stop is the end of the line.
Round trip fares do not apply.
Midnight this city comes alive.
Then it spreads like a cancer.
Track Name: Paper Mâché House Fire
Paper Mâché House fire:

Once the city gates were locked,
the dying flame of hope was lost.
Escape is impossible when it’s
above, below and all around.
Incarcerations shock.
Detachment from existence:
a decoration evident, of this pestilence.
No life for the exiled – doomed imprisonment,
from an unseen virulent death sentence.
There is no end.
Unquiet spirits need rest.
Cleanse this building in flames.
There is no end.