Clinging routine, split the cracked window
where nicotine speaks, you already know.
The itching burned clean, doesn’t fill ya up
when the roof collapsed, you already know.
Obligatory introspection, inflammatory misconception,
channeling our misdirection, you already know.
Remember how those first weeks felt,
learning to cope with the hand you’ve been dealt.
You already know.
We’ll talk about how we can never sleep,
share hollow words and common dreams,
laugh it off, we’re so cliche -
empty gestures, the sweet smell of decay.
Here take this pill and be just like me,
stoned on my couch and watching tv,
I'll tell you exactly watcha wanna be,
when living aint an option, prescribe some apathy.
I’m stuck here, stuck dreaming
Of a life filled with meaning
That feeling, the sinking
Left vacant, unblinking
this spectacle left in my place,
my anger, my guilt, my love all displaced
But self-hate is the inversion
of just rage, a diversion
My ideas are stolen,
but I want to do more than,
parrot some old cliches
Filler is an informal DIY anarcho-punk collective that runs a zine distro, record label, recording studio & screenprinting
collective in so-called Pittsburgh, PA.
INTERNATIONAL MERCH ORDERS PLEASE EMAIL FILLER_PGH@PROTONMAIL.COM so we can work out the cheapest shipping option.
The Italian hardcore group’s latest is a powerful, claustrophobic album that rarely lets up its mathy, metallic assault. Bandcamp Album of the Day Feb 6, 2018