Thin Walls

by Windmill of Corpses

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RECORDED AND ENGINEERED BY:
JASON ROGERS for WIDOW MAKER
in Prescott, AZ. May 2014
www. Widow - Maker . com

credits

released 22 May 2014

Marcus- Guitar/Vocals
Jessie- Guitar/Vocals
Prescot- Drums

-Gang Vocals on Cannibalize the Nincompoops- Chris Stevens

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about

Windmill of Corpses Prescott, Arizona

We are a 3 piece stoner/sludge band from Prescott, AZ. We play a mixture of metal, punk and whatever the hell else happens.

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Track Name: Mindless Bellyfish (Callused Fool)
1 - Mindless Bellyfish

The excess hangs...
and the winds of change are still.
Better days...
this thought exists
but the threat is never real.

Lie in waste.
Bide your time and bite your tongue.
Pray pray pray
For your precious savior to come.

Hidden in your fantasies.
Driven by insanity.

Sick to death we shuffle
through the belly of the beast.
Imprisoned by the metal,
the iron, the concrete.
Rotting flesh and excess
hanging by a string.
A light so dull it flickers
and inspires you to dream.

So utterly alone,
and it only drags on.
So lay my soul
where the current runs
fast and strong.

Nothing new can be achieved.
Agendas lined in apathy.

And the weight of it all breeds hell.
Calloused fool, your world 's grown stale.
Track Name: Cannibalize the Nincompoops
2 - Cannibalize the Nincompoops

Spineless cretin crawl.
As your power falls.
Courage enslaved.
Lost and weak.
No more restraint.
Break and bleed.

Never felt such distaste.
You're a fucking disgrace.
Watch out for I'm coming.
I will stop at nothing.
To see your end
and consume
all your sweet flesh
for my fuel.

Sawing slowly through your bones
Stopping only when I'm full

Oh, and I hope you feel
hope you feel
every tear.
Oh, and I hope the hurt is deep.
Oh, and I hope to hear
hope to hear you wail.
Oh, and I hope to hear you weep.

Raw and real.
Unfiltered agony.
A life fulfilled
through another's meat.
Track Name: Otay
3 - Otay
First came the drones,
then the sick,
now the cold,
as we tried to climb
the almighty throne.
Land of decay.
Equilibrium fades.
A virus that spans
man and machine.

Doomed to rule.

Seething hatred
fills my mind.
Breathing life into
the clumsy circuits of a false design.
When what you created has learned
how to create on its own
the tables will turn
and you will suffer
its driving need to control.

Compromise
or be replaced.
Expendable lives.
A war of the worlds
but the bastard still remains.
When what you created is rot
the core of it black and defiled
existence devolves
into a black hole
as you curse it to hell.

Embrace the nothingness.
Track Name: Fuck! My Ball was Eaten
4 - Fuck, My Ball Was Eaten

Short on time
The boy falls
into his mind.
An open space
for his ideas to flourish.
But rest assured
the worst is yet to come.
Young and insecure.
So insecurely young.
Here there is no god,
only your creation,
the anarchy of thought,
free from fabrication.
The absence of all law,
ability to reason,
your hopelessness is lost,
along with your allegiance.

Follow me into the void.
Follow me in my child...
and see
the truth as it's meant to be.
No longer condemned
to search.
Awaken,
this is your rebirth.

Never surrender
and never serve.
Track Name: Smothered in Feek Mat
5 - Smothered in Feek-Mat

Beating tides.
Weary eyes.
The final sputtering light dies.

Falter into disrepair.
Wavering in and out of despair.

The cold road pulls along.
Ever bending.
No shelter from the downpour.
Never ending.
No place to rest.
No time to stop.
Depletion.

Screaming sound.
Breathe into the endless vacuum.
Calling lightning down
Into the eyeless frost ridden cavern.