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1.
05:39
2.
05:46
3.
02:50
4.
08:08

credits

released 16 December 2011

Lyrics by Ashe Austin O'Hara
Music by Voices From The Fuselage

Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Timfy James

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Voices From The Fuselage UK

Voices From The Fuselage are a very melodic take on progressive metal, with experimentation in time signatures and melodramatic key changes/chord sequences. It's hard to claim originality in such a vast sea of artists & music, but there is such originality in this music & it is constantly challenging itself to transcend. ... more

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Track Name: The Wreckage
I'm back on my feet
And inevitably im comatose.
With seconds to go,
The ending we know
Comes painfully premature.

Like the body of an unborn child.
Like an autopsy, signed and filed.
Like a fresh lick of scarlet on a curb.
About time we came to terms,
About time we lived and learned.

Compassion i plead,
A vision of freedom is my last sight,
With seconds to go,
The ending we know
Comes painfully true.

I'm hanging on a thread,
But am i by the neck?

Desperate,
Grappling,

Bereaving for me,
My hemorrhage paints this wreck,
I'm floating in a storm,
To the incommunicable.

Peaceful,
Absolution,
Devout and staunch,
My hemorrhage paints this wreck.

It's war below.
We failed below.
They rape below.
& only death can save us.

It's war below.
(A time will come to reclaim and salvage our dwellings)
We failed below.
(And the said time is nigh)
They rape below.
(Watch as fields and trees become heights of ruin)
And only death can save us.
(Green spoilt red)
Track Name: Oceans
Apparent of a god inflicting,
Justice on this world.
Our atmosphere impounded by,
Our ample trees to burn.

Statistically crimes escalating,
As third world warfare thrives.
And men with soft explosives taking,
Pride in taking lifes.

Stalagmites & Stalactites,
Transform into vast lakes.
Our oceans claiming all the land as,
We choke in urban wakes.

These provoke questions everyday.

Can you taste the salt?
Do you sense the fault?
Tell me what you claim your purpose.

When a world collides,
Can we say we tried?
As we form a brand new surface.

Brace yourself for waves,
To our sins we're slaves,
Come tomorrow: underwater.
Prove me wrong?

What gods observe as we become:
The next cold layer of the Earth?
The sea of life lives constantly,
They’ll transcend humanity.
And no one knows what is to come,
The world knows better than anyone...

Oceans will claim us,
Oceans will claim us,
Oceans will claim us,
Oceans (will claim us,)
We've had our chance

To roam,
To grow,
To know,
To hope.

To roam,
To grow,
To know,
To hope.
Track Name: Nightfall
Wrath: The village is scared,
The fire is burning through streets of the fair.
A torch to pillage the rich,
Demanding their refuge in a time of despair.

Nightfall: Asleep & the sound
Of swords leaving sheaths to execute their might.
Their lives will end with a knife,
The toiled will jugulate all of whom in sight.

The toiled will jugulate all of whom.

Is there no one who can be saved?
Ear to ear they run their blades.
Digging their claws in the depraved.
Ancestors spinning in their graves.
Track Name: T.E.E.S.O.E.
Within these walls I am confined.
Thrust over our eyes solely to blind.
Is it trespassing when we feel at home?
Amongst the truth which remains untold?

Who is the arbiter in this
Travesty you choose to dismiss?
You have people running for their lives.
The hatred you feed contrives…

Everybody and their lives

When we tread on through
Fields of green, lakes of crystal,
Motion turmoil of umber and life.

When we tread on through
Fields of green, lakes of crystal,
Motion turmoil of umber and life.

When we tread on through
Fields of green, lakes of crystal,
Motion turmoil of umber and life.

With our doubt still intact.
Curious of new discoveries which you’ve left unproven.
It keeps me up at night. A fault or flaw. I slight.
Am I the casualty of my own circumstance?

Such is life,
You’ll be soon to see.
Yet to suffer an epiphany.

Such is life,
You’ll be soon to see.
Yet to suffer an epiphany.

I see my purpose now,
To reproduce somehow.
Lobotomise myself,
Break the boy my mother spat out.
I’m not a patron saint,
Never something so quaint.
You’re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake.

I see my purpose now,
To reproduce somehow.
Lobotomise myself,
Break the boy my mother spat out.
I’m not a patron saint,
Never something so quaint.
You’re not a god to man but to the robots you forsake.