I see it in your eyes
I hear them from your mouth
They mean nothing for me
I know you won’t stop my way down
All these words, stroking the crowd
Selling safe illusions, demonizing to make consent
Power belongs to the elite, the people who can see afar
Trophies and liters of sweat reveal how brilliant you are
How many hands did you shake?
How many knives did you jab for high stakes?
Staying on top of the fold requires some sacrifices
I wonder how long this roundabout will work in our minds
Any waking sign?
You search new ways to seduce
Obsessed of being trusted, as you trust no one, don’t you?
They’re given laurels when we bear the scars
We blurt out the meanings, absorbed by shooting stars
Why should we search for a remedy when hope is on sale?
Feel them dealing with your soul
See them building blinding walls
Feel them dealing with your soul
See them building blinding walls
We live between the flames, without seeking the culprit
Swallow the soap they serve, don’t smell poison in it
Don’t search for new ideas, it’s all been said
We fight for our survival, but we’re already dead
Screamo, post-rock, and a little black metal meld together for Virginia quartet Infant Island's signature immersive and melancholy sound. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 28, 2020
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