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.​.​.​and into the Jungle

from No Funeral by No Funeral

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lyrics

...have you figured it out yet? well, have you? the riddle that puts the us in nauseous and fault in concrete and asphalt. these are the lords of the will of the weeds and blue moon abortions, pulling the tide of their red-dressed child. cesarean sun, show me the static lakes transmitting unknown intentions from unknown predators. catalogue this. burning plumage fizzles and pops into black sparks until you're left with what? entropy? and a more abstract monologue? catalogue this. numb from numbered days and autumns rock bottoms. old ruins come alive as neighbors gather and nearing sirens sing songs in harmony with passing clouds which would later weep. you can't crush the mountain, so salt the shield. catalogue this. cash the cheque. catalogue this. the unattended dead end roads of industry laugh their last laugh; meanwhile, diesel fumes just mumble so catalogue this. you put the pale in impaled and it's all you have left as the black bells chime from the jungles of night.

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from No Funeral, released March 5, 2023

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Year of the Coward

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