Autumn Lungs from Damage by Moss Eater

In the centre of this town.
A black hole fills our fucking lungs.
We chase gods to speak our pain.
But we die in lonely places.

As we rot suffering the weather.
Changing times beg for obedience.
There is no answer.

All we do is bleed out our time.
All we do is bleed out our time.

We are left here, empty.
The holes in our hearts left as vapid voids.

When home is just a hill of coffins.
The cemetery is this whole fucking town.

The land of desolation.
As the skies turn my eyes black.

When every breath here burns.
No longer reaching up.

We wait, to be buried in the dirt.
We wait, to be buried in the dirt.

I’ve missed that sense of unity.
Of looking up and feeling peace.
Instead I see stars dead in black water.

As I wait, in this mass grave.
The flesh of many pressed on mine.
No warmth, no life.

Just a void, thats disgraced me.
Thats stolen my certainty.

I’m sick of the nights creeping up on me.

As all we do feels meaningless, feels like nothing.

A dead language, left on my legs.

• Death Metal
• Experimental
• Metal
• doom metal
• drone
• post-metal
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