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lyrics

To claim: of yours, of mine, the same.
To grasp. To drink from life's boiling spring.
Thistled fingers warm and bend,
calling your children home hungry.
Baited aurum and cocked lilly eyed lust.
Perched like a jaundiced vulture, wings spread in vain
for anything to clutch. Bones of contention.
To drink, with blistered lips.
To grasp, in hands of barb and sap.
Your greed, it sticks to your bones.
It sinks to your marrow and calls you home.

credits

from Amber Mote in the Black Vault, released January 8, 2016

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Full of Hell Ocean City, Maryland

Harsh grinding death from the east coast. Numb your mind.

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