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SCALD LYRICS
"Rancid Fuckhole" (1994 Demo)
1. Insular
2. Non Selective
3. Confusexcremental
4. Body Forlorn
5. Inside The Machine
1. Insular
My visual depiction of humorous karma, an adequate image to repel the inquisitive. Adept in pseudoelation in everyday function, yet I wallow in vicious mental despondency. I peel, I peel, I peel my life away. I peel again in windowless discontent. I see nothing, nothing. It's all so fucking pointless. Pent up in my viewless numb. Morose, solemn, expressive only alone. No one to interfere in this non-social indifference. Intimate with no one, growing voluntarily into psychasthenia. Why must I hate all intrusion and distraction from despicable solitude? No inclusion, I can never relate, only insulate against your influence. Hate what I fear. Fear what I hate.
2. Non Selective
Screw your eyes closed. Witness only bland. Admire only own beliefs. Despise all else, fear of unknown. Uneducated ignorance. Transpire, expire, never variation. One theme, undisguised prejudice. What is normal? Only average. Scorn until fashionable. Waste time on descriptions. Childish judgements on experiences never sampled. Flaccid intentions, bile rising pretensions. Wasting words, nothing is relevant. My life is not pretty flowers and smiling children. Life is pain, a constant test, emotional stress. Accept the fucking pain. Savour its delicacies. Sanctity within imagination. Comfort within the claustrophobic. Necessary agony to reveal hidden creativity. Dig deeper into the bleak recesses of the mind. Sicken the selective eyes. Fuck the corroding minds.
3. Confusexcremental
Clinical minds. Self motivated. Self assured by self morality. Sanitary perceptions. I'm swimming in your shit. I won't fucking drown, swimming in shit. Thinking apparatus declined in use. Denied access. Abstained visionary. Abuse my integrity, an ugly attitude. My art, my disgust, to your diseased society. Your felching comment, wallow in filth. An open mind is free. Cleanse by self-discovery. Pity your face, spite your mouth. It's rancid fuck-hole accept elegance grotesque.
4. Body Forlorn
Natural dispense, secretion of inner warmth. Sunless complexion, nocturnal porcelain. Lips like blood, sip golden wine of gods. Nourished the flower in bloom. Focus revel, transfixed, a pouting well of pleasure. Fragrant, approaching bacterial matter transfusion. Aroma is instinct, perspiring anticipation. Delight, savour the ochre. Pores clogged with grandure. Sinuous coiling undulation. Pierce broken water. Inhale glandular fragrance. Amniotic thirst. Mourning unseen kin, dead born feasting whim. Induce morbid agenda. Masticate soft placenta. Slender limbs offer consummation, flowing uraemia. Rust stained entry lines reveal flesh tubes sticky juice. Spasm pump plasmas floating cells. White and red. End-time chill. Sucking moist arousal. Ejaculation.
5. Inside The Machine
Looking inside the christ support machine. The industrial web of souls fragmenting, Corroding, dissipating, autolysis of faith. This asthenia to my eye brings tranquillity, Drained. No more heinous defecation of lives in your rancorous dead god's name.
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