released 25 May 2012
All songs by Abuse. Recorded by James Faix.
feeds for ,
- Track Name: Tragedy of the Commons
Foehn wind forgone, travail, deliquescent,
swells idle lovers, charlatans, and
hyacinths who wrest peace, waste fare
and know not life from breath.
Gone after rampant irides,
this path grows errant,
shrouded from the sun.
Revenant footfalls step-
sire rain-shadowed ascent.
Zephyrs pass western gates agleam
through meadows of asphodel, found—
borne by golden bough—draught
of lethe, drunk of memory.
Astral descent snakes to fennel where,
as gilt fruits of discord, maenads ferment;
thyrse-drawn grape urns bloom again.
Soon the atrium's ivory vaults
horn of homebound feast,
swarm's bull-roar, honey lure.
Each oleaster, tawdry lord,and
dead ox orling, regaled,
pays respect to wasted breath,
forgets. Cold mountain gale beset,
convalescent hopes that tempests end
before the waxen harvest wanes.
Here lies the stone sail, engraved restless
while wind soughs neverending—
hillside ecumene erodes.
- Track Name: ἄρχων
...so much left undone. What ruin lies before our harrowed ends—bear arms' burden or pluck dead weight from crooked scales? Heirs to cinder, sweating pitch, sanguine no more! No small brothers raise pale flags. Raze the old provost! Reclaim the delta, levies entrenched 'til dearth trickles down our tributaries. Scorch banks with saltpeter ploughshares: To what toll will we march on crowning ides? We cradled our mightiest and faultless bled to slake barren tracts. Our boundless thirst such endless failure. Surrender not but for the world to come, bastioned vision of fields but no frontiers, forever yielding. So much time to honor and...
- Track Name: Bred in Circuses
Sick and tired of not enough action?
Come witness breathtaking feats of quisling abandon.
Now, the world's class-est riot calls:
“livery and combustion for all!”
Brokers in jest throw back fiery cocktails
to quaff aristocratic woes:
false profits exposed!
Fear the hand that feeds;
its misgivings charter greed.
See the stakes, a pyre ready to burn;
the enemy preys in your midst.
Mutiny! Everyone rules!
And only you can seize the danger.
Income's an act;
all bonds defect
but trades in terror.
Gross mayhem mounting,
this crowd's revolting.
Let's stage the coup,
a trial to play.
Animals take to the stands.
Pundits hold court in cages,
hang their heads,
and gavel whips to gallows.
The deed is done;
the bloc was won
by partisan ties.
The canon fired smokes and mirrors
our companies' report:
“Victory for ceaseless pioneers,
conjuring riches in white gloves,
whose stores will never disappear.”
- Track Name: The New Colossus
When Liberty weighs the tired poor against the Providence of tomorrow's roads, Ancient Power must be drawn from promised lands, whose unsailed Black Seas drive steel towers through the sky and, ignited, smoke-signal the consumptive reign to anoint the edifice of our primal existence—captive to hostile earth, saved by engines of Creation, we nurse fractured shale—mired in Gaud, fraught with disparity: starving, feeble masses yearn for Communion pinnacled and secluded, for Jurassic spirits to return to seed, to sink as one Tide to no End.