Death by Dying, by Needle Play

Death by Dying

by Needle Play

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punkrevolutionnow Massive amount of creativity and talent on display here. Needle Play is going to be the next biggest thing in mathcore, just watch Favorite track: Cambridge, MA.

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1.	Woburn, MA 05:13	lyrics
i just feel so fucking divorced can't take this shit too much shit to take disorder is a surrogate for personality my fall from grace was laced with misandry excruciating reveries more intrusive than acid-flashback phantasms trauma darkens hearts even unity is a clever authority's cynical calculus trendy lords, eager to forge a fruitful host composed of conformist constituents it's alienation and it keeps our beds equipped with perpetually wide-eyed occupants to be received by the arbiters of fashion one must deviate from the ubiquitous and the banal yet every time i finance a subculture aligned in opposition to the populous with that same useless pursuit, i casually sign the death warrant of my invaluable eccentricities abandon your dictatorship just to enlist in a comparable autocracy only this time delight in more colorful statues and absolutes this town is a mirror for my obsequiousness days turned hades and they never change my art is violence sans personal vendettas codified malware for francoist documents order begets slaughter every perfect massacre gleams with oligarchical horrors no act more noble than sketching distress unto unsuspecting flesh a coming out party for an anarcho-syndicalist child, there's plenty of surrender to drag your obedient feet through every voter shares the malcontent of eviscerated potential
2.	Billerica, MA 03:38	lyrics
blames herself for the abuse he created i blame my deficient omnipresence any idea what that does to a marriage? picture razor blades between fingers and nails i can't stop this vivid savagery daydreams of wondrous gore funny how trauma unlocks the sadist's prison door lay a hand on her and that's the first part of you i burn but by no means the last "why pursue violence" they say "i mean, what does it even accomplish?" i don't know, maybe i finally gain a wink of sleep maybe she and i embrace and dance on top of his sorry corpse if you find god wont you convey a message for me wont you explain to him the depths the extent of my resentments? this doesn't end in resolve who are you to judge my confessions? you who put "good" and "evil" in quotation marks i know what you're about and it's grotesque we share veins and heirlooms and our hand-me-downs have turned varicose i swear on my life no one will touch her again we sleep with a glock 30 sf and we wear knife wounds for eyelids i have not the heart for desertion but loathing just arrives so naturally
3.	Tewksbury, MA 03:22	lyrics
my old man is a dust bowl he doesn't want to know me, but we share a lust for the girls in my high-school and a propensity for aggressive behavior my step dad was a biker now he's a machine shop sloth he's got a mean left hook and a temper shorter than his sober time my mom is a drunk that's about all there is to say about her my sister is a soft goth who traded her father's god for online astrology charlatans my brother is a dealer abuse is the only thing in his life relating to substance we live in tewksbury where failure is a habit and all of our pleasures are guilty they don't want to talk about free will they don't want to talk about beauty all they want to talk about are sports and gossip and coupons i want to live a long life only so one day i may dance on their wholesome graves
4.	Salem, NH 05:30	lyrics
struck gold first time my hammer met iron my incandescent vessel of expression love of my life, smithing will carry my resonance in death as she did in life such a love exposed from this hollow eremite provoked by an unlikely metal despot the bouquet of a maple workshop the soldering of me to ancient machines aided the transfer of my prolific aches into timeless beauty an isolationist's homage masochism did smile at my symphonic purge of despair and i smiled back at her from my agony, i planted harsh hyacinths and jet-black ivies forged was my garden of hurt taking to yellow-brick turnpikes, my repurposed grief one fatal day my back pain led me to a percocet armageddon and skirmishes with the sauce on again, off again, on and off again, etc. with meandering covered-wagon temperance now i haunt flea fairs and trade markets i have not learned to flourish without a proud outlet and i am forbidden from putrid envy when you bare the scars of war with yourself you can ruminate, you can lose yourself to regress, you can build a temple to repression, staple your worries to another's torso, hitch a ferry ride down the amazon towards a self-aggrandizing mission, or you can craft yourself a blushing bride by mastering a wrought vocation i am survived by the beautiful wounds she left behind those who greet art with indifference are spared terminal anguish but are denied a certain immortalizing ascendancy bleed all your sorrows into a narrow, glass prison
5.	Cambridge, MA 04:46	lyrics
we kings of only grief never dream, always sleep deeply we find relief in macabre hobbies vituperative, barroom utterances torture porn so inglorious it would make dostoevsky's black-pilled pen torpedo from a scribbled parchment and burrow in his bloated throat this fucking hell haven, man scandals of incalculable savagery might just change your apathy to an ethos before you even realize all it takes is one harsh new england snow without enough oil in your furnace suddenly you're a gladiator dressed in fascist escutcheon a soldier in the war against your own interests clearly blind to bitter irony eager to build a thrilling denouement since the previous acts were so profoundly ordinary i laugh at the meaning behind your tattoos because your life has none perc 30s in an altoid tin split horizons with infinite sin i'd let said sin dissolve for a scrap of your love dives dives where old men go to die that's where i'll be hanging my carhartt to rest and someday my depressed, red-bearded neck you're a specimen to behold a final lecture in the teachings of "bright and bold" you can craft my effigy with the empty cans in my bedroom tall boys as vacant as this shrunken man if i spat in your direction would you even notice me? could you even separate my voice from the clouds of townie clamor in the pool hall? i'm indistinguishable i thought i was the glistening peacock i'm the gull stealing scraps by the docks i thought i was autonomy if you ask for my name, i'll sign in cryptic cursive so you can never look me up for a joke i have always politely caressed the persuasive lips of middle-aged failure

about

Cover Art by Camila Fernández - - @camibf.design

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released July 24, 2020

Written by Needle Play

Recorded and Produced by Heath Sousa

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Needle Play Massachusetts

2017-2023

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