if being dead wasnt the end
if there was a message that you could send
atrocities and anguise
horror of a selfish life
clouds and the trumpets
remind you everything is fine
oh the weight of all the wrong
oh the weightlessness that life goes on
will you dress me up in what i never wore
what if its impossible to bleach out all the gore
parade me through the streets
stand me in your home
corpse granny coat rack
kids are home alone
gather all the dead
dressed to fucking kill
smelly rotting square dance
paraded against their will
corpse party conga line
tequila shots necrotic slime
cardigan cadaver
its celebration time
The Italian hardcore group’s latest is a powerful, claustrophobic album that rarely lets up its mathy, metallic assault. Bandcamp Album of the Day Feb 6, 2018