2017 DEMO

by Kinesthesis

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about

Rough-ish versions of some of the tracks that'll be on our full-length eventually.

Squack.

credits

released April 24, 2017

Angus - guitar.
Kit - drums.
Crispin - vocals.
Tim - guest vocals (track 5).

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Kinesthesis

Grinding death metal from the Dandenong Ranges, Australia.

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Contact Kinesthesis

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Track Name: Half-Eaten Corpse
A peek inside.
Of your body.
Of your carcass.
Of your life.
Vultures picking at eyes, at this neck, at your lice.
Joining in with the worms, with the rats, with the flies.

Sheaves of skin pulled away from the muscles the need them.
Leaving exposed and open the meat that makes you whole.
Flecks of their spit mix with drops of your blood.
As the beaks dig in deeper and this body grows lighter.
You're torn apart.

Lying in this soiled bed.
This bed of soil, that you've stained red.
Cuts, gashes and wounds, they cover your head.
As the birds pick, as the rats bite, as your body lies dead.

Vandal of the earth, littering the ground with your carcass.

Left on the ground, forgotten and alone.
No rats, no vultures, no worms eating you.
Your consumers, they've abandoned you, maybe you taste like failure.
They have left you as you rot, left you to bacteria.

Threadbare husk, husk of a human.
Life has drained, drained out from you.
All you are now, all you'll ever be.
Right here and now, and for eternity.

A forgotten meal, a half-eaten corpse.
Track Name: Black Pit Of Fear
Nothing to see.
Not a fucking sound.
Got to get out.
Get out.

Frantic eyes scanning.
For figures in the dark.
Hearing nothing.
But your own pounding heart.

Screaming for help.
Makes you vulnerable.
Silence yourself.
If that's even possible.

Desperately searching.
For any scrap of light.
Heartbeat racing faster.
Fists clenching tight.

Biting, clenching, helpless here.
Pulse increasing, the threat unclear.

Escalate the threat that you're feeling here.
An ominous, evil, brooding fear.
Nothing to see, nothing to hear.
In this cold and choking atmosphere.
Fear.
In this your own black pit of fear.

Nothing to see.
Got to get out.
Screaming for help.
Silence yourself.

Rationality doesn't factor into this.
Anxiety will claw you apart.
You were always doomed to die here.
Right from the very start.

Your fear will end when you do.
You can stop this yourself.
This terror is closing you in.
Nobody's coming to help.

Your legs are shaking, struggling to keep you upright.
Paralysed arms hanging limp and useless by your side.
Retching and gagging, bent over in pain.
Sickening waves of nausea pulse through you again and again.

Your body can't handle what your mind is doing to it.
Folding into yourself as you collapse to the ground.
Sweating and shaking and shuddering uncontrollably.
As you finally give in and submit to a cold and lonely end.
Lying limp, lifeless and pathetic in a puddle of sweat and shame.
Track Name: Piss Blood, Dry Heave
My soul, myself.
Can't stop rotting.
Head full of nails.
Feels like burning.

Can't fucking sleep.
Can't fucking breathe.
Crawl up the walls.
Piss blood, dry heave.
Track Name: Virus
What was once a cast iron has been left to rust.
No signs of immunity, just airways caked in crust.

Cut down in the prime of his life, a cut by no means clean.
No other future but to know what the virus would eventually come to mean.

Twisted up inside, eyes shut tight against the light.
Stomach wrings itself, like a cloth mopping up a life.
Rancid, rank discharge, suppurating lymph nodes grown to bursting.
Every breath a chore.

Capillaries collapse, blackening the skin.
This man has breathed his last, his very prayers iconoclast.
His kin around his bed, now they're infected too.
Can you fathom being one of them, your whole bloodline disintegrating in front of you.

The bodies of those bed ridden, curdling beneath the sheets.
While those who remain living, wander retching and frenzied into the streets.
Daughter heads to the river, in a fever dream.
Falls headlong into the water, to rot away beneath the reeds.

This river runs through a city. Foul, diseased.
By virtue of her callous passing, the bacillus will be released.

Virus runs through house and home, summoning pus and pain.
Thousands gone while millions come to meet this end again and again.

Rolling, weeping, wild bovine eyes seeing what's not there.
The pathogen came so sudden and no one was prepared.

O father who art in heaven, shallow is thy claim.
If this be your will done, then you and the plague are one and the same.

Swollen, bloated.
Organs stretching.
Innards brewing.
Guts are bursting.
Intumescent.
Stomach opens.
Contents pour out.
Stomach acid dribbles down and burns away what skin is left on rotting legs and crumbling broken bones.

Curling fingers of death embracing a continent.
Coldly probing and searching, eyeless and blind.
Determined and eager to find new lives to suck dry.
And leave their bodies to shrivel and fester in the sun.
Or lie bloated in the water, as distended monuments to a dying race.
Soon no remnants will be left, some other species will move to take its place.
Track Name: Self Immolation
Evacuate this sour earth.
Now that my body has lost all its worth.
Fucked up in every way.

Nailed.
Impaled.
Twisted.
Blistered.
Nailed.
Impaled.
Twisted.
Blistered.

Corpses around.
Litter the ground.
Swollen.
Fallen.
My audience.
My kin.

Light the match, fire is rising.
My skin starts to crack, bubbling and black.
Only I am worthy of inflicting this on me.
My burning, my furnace.
Self fucking mutilation.
Self immolation.

Boiling blood.
Vomit and piss.
Do nothing to kill the fire.
Losing sensation to all of my limbs.

Smoke suffocates.
Suffocates.

Smell of flesh.
Burning flesh.
Removing the weakness from inside my mind.
Protruding bones scorched to the core.

Self fucking immolation.
Track Name: Sight, Sound And Smell
You see a wretched sight.
Disfigured beyond comprehension.
A confoundment of flesh.
A pulsating work of art.

Chains rattling.
Heaving through three stitched-up lungs.
A laborious death.
Twitching and writhing in puddles of slime.

Embrace me.
Allow me.
To detain you, to fill you, defile you.

Creation is a myth here.
Paving the way to the shredding of skin.
Your stomach turns as murder steams ahead,
The smell of fresh cut corpses.
Intestines pulled out and draped on the trees.
Open wounds fester and fill with disease.

Embrace me.
Allow me.
To detain you, to fill you, defile you.

As it comes alive.
In your hands.
Shredding its seams.
Forcing itself inside.

The sound of death metal.
Track Name: Bored
Bored.
Bored of living.
So I've bored into myself.
Keep the wound open.
Let it bleed.

Burning acid through the stomach,
Treating the body like a rag.
Organs swimming in poison,
Burnt lungs crackling with tar.

There's no point in pretending to be human,
I am so much less.
Binging on filth in the name of Satan,
Stinking of beer, piss and death.
Death.
Death.
Piss and death.

Spitting black mucus in your face,
I'm a wretched fucking sight.
Bloodshot eyes, staring, unblinking,
Scarred leather skin, crawling with disease.

Hangin' out in the gutter,
Feasting on lice.
A sight that makes you shudder,
Counting the seconds 'til death.

Seeking repulsion,
Chewing on rats,
Bored of living.
Counting the seconds 'til death.
Track Name: Crawling Below
Crawling below.
Waiting for you.
Watching you.
They're longing for you.
Waiting below.
Watching you.
Crawling below.
Longing for you.

Subterranean spectres of death
Dwelling in pits deep in the earth.
Living and breeding where no human can.
Tearing at these dying embers of a dying man.
Clawing with their unquenchable lust.
Grappling for this weakened husk of you.

Crawling below.
Waiting for you.
Watching you.
They're longing for you.
Crawling.
Waiting.
Watching.
Longing.

Slurping the dregs.
In fiendish rags.
Needing you.
Your seconds are few.

Subterranean.
Monolithic.
Creeping.
Spectres of death.
Track Name: Mycobacterium
Rancid affliction, sickly flesh consuming me.
In this prison of leprosy.
Stigma devours, viral symptoms surfacing.
Stagnant entrails, always burning, always seething.

Hideous abominations.
Multitudes of boiling souls in thraldom to pain.
Mycobacterium.
Consumes the flood of the human stain.

Lethargy takes hold.
Violent sickness uncontrolled.
The virus has taken hold.
Aggressive illness leaves me cold.

Sepsis seeps in, screams of pain surrounding me.
In this prison of leprosy.
Sickened, afflicted, rancid blood is drowning me.
Surging hatred, always burning, always seething.

Alone I freeze in this disease.
Sustained and eternally bound.
No words, nor voice for the death of the sun.
In darkness and fear we are one.

Heartless hate without remorse.
Eyeless anger, silent force.
Pale and weakened, faith rots away.
Seamless nights now swallow the day.

Sacrilegious.
Retribution.
Rotting flesh.
Absolution.

Rotting inside, spewing and blind.
My skin seeping shit and blood in my spit.
Has God struck us down? In plague to be bound.
The causes all blur, yet still I suffer.
Track Name: No Way Out
No way out.
No way back.
No way up.
No way down.
No exit.
No hope left.
No help comes.
No light finds you here.

You are lost, you are hungry.
You’re alone, egregiously lonely.
Your thirst unquenched, your hunger insatiable.
Your memories of life outside are fading and drifting away.
Fading and drifting away.

Hopeless.
Voiceless.
Godless.
Lifeless.

Living and dying, the lines are blurring.
Screaming and breathing, the difference deceiving.
Senses are blurring in the senseless blackness.
They’ll get no sharper from the ceaseless practice.

You run, you look, but you will find nothing.
No hope, no peace, no life for you here.
Get used to living a life where you’re dying.
Over and over and over and over again.
And over again.
All over again.
Dying all over and over and over again.

No way out.