Smothered in Feek Mat

from by Windmill of Corpses

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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.

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


from Thin Walls, released May 22, 2014



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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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