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Threshold trespasser,
Instigate the quiet.
A sacred silence, taken for granted.
Better left unseen, unheard, and undisturbed.
(The dull radiant crimson light indicates.)
Shallow, cold fog
Excites frozen dendrites.
At the brink of absolute terror.
Ignore impulse. Aimlessly proceed.
Being so naive as to think that they do not sense your presence.
EMP's detect your heartbeat and the crimson light a full body scanner!
Genetic mutagens are soon to be used against you in a timely manner.
Punitively planned, for none retain vision of the outside without punishment.
Stroboscopic animation.
Abduction and relocation.
Undisclosed purpose.
Malicious intent.
Acres of corpses
Alive in contention?
Suffering non-locally.
Disengaged without a trace.
A sadistic embrace.
Fueled by bloodshed.
On the operating table you're killed.
Penetrated with an alien dick.
Bones broken.
Implants underneath lifts - epidermal.
So that they can track your every movement
and re-abduct when their lust strikes again.
Defibrillate.
Skin is sewn up and memory is cleared.
Memory... Memory is cleared.
Unrecognized image.
Completely deformed.
Released to the wild.
Returned through the threshold.
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3. |
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Purgatoric sentencing.
Collapsed and melting walls, in the periphery.
This is no longer life--complexly factorized!
Vignetted. Complacent.
Searching for a way out of it.
Outside lies. Containment.
Watching Saturnian Sandworms.
Condemned to a causal loop.
Failure stains every move.
Destiny has come too soon,
I've got nothing left to lose!
In the absence of the light energy,
an inhumane rampancy unforeseen.
And with insanity kicking in,
Gray matter is tumultuous.
Self-loathing, pure hatred.
Stuck here in, this prison.
Obsession.
Depression.
Echoing my innocence.
An unwelcomed awareness. x2
Long since past are the days relating mortals.
Inside a dark abyss where emptiness grows.
With no one to converse but my own phantoms.
An unwelcomed awareness.
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4. |
Disorder - Last Contact
03:13
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Infected yellow flesh designates the kill shot.
Dismember them!
Pulling apart the heart, feasting upon thine sludge.
An army of just two, strapped as fuck.
Each a shotgun and a snipe.
Delivering onslaught unto them is our primary objective.
Melee, curb stomp, or impale -- disaster ensues, limbs aflail.
Conquering reanimated anatomy, swiftly.
Awaiting ethereal conjugation -- unphysical decimation.
Beneath the Icon of Sin,
being stalked by the possessed.
(Solo)
An impossible nightmare! x2
Bodies convulsing violently,
The transformation is complete.
Demonic souls in necromorphs.
With internal heat sublimating their corpses upon expiring,
we breathe the steam of hell's fury.
Two deadly machines.
Never to be defeated. x2
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10. |
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DISORDER Huntington Beach, California
DISORDER IS:
Triston Cheshire -
Bass, Guitars, Drum Programming & Backing Vocals
Kevin Smith -
Main Vocals, Lyrics & Artwork
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