i felt its reeds grow thin, the oars splintering. feeble shades of a scarlet reverie. Soft as skin in the faint exposure, sun spots on the fraying film. I forgave the daggers dulling blade, and the absence it left. And i forgave you, and the hull burning. This was not our fault. My throat laden with stone. My palms soaked to the bone. I watched with swollen eyes and broken feet, as a solitary doe strayed from her dwelling, bowed her head, and crawled into the sea. The uninhabitable remains of a broken chest cavity.
Polish noise-crust outfit eschews the big Tragedy-esque riffs still popular with their US counterparts for scratchy claustrophobia. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 2, 2016