Get all 8 Heart Of The Bereaved releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Tears Of The Ocean Bearer [demo single], L'éveil Par La Mort, Disremembrance [single], Finding The Strength To Give Up [EP], None Of Our Lives Matter, And We Are All Going To Die, Mummification [single], Scapegoat's Doctrine [EP], and Commercialized Hecatomb [single].
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1. |
Rape Yourself
10:35
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[Part I: Indentured Servitude]
From the time that you are born
To the time you grow old and die,
You remain the constant subject
To the command on which you rely.
And you'll find out that,
As the older you get,
The more you have to justify
Your right to exist,
For your life is a debt,
One which you must pay for as long as you live.
And the demand that's placed on your shoulders
Weighs down heavy and unrelenting.
Always bracing yourself for crisis,
Always fearing for your wellbeing.
Keep your head down and do as you're told,
And follow the orders of a dying code,
Or you can drown in a bottle of guilt,
And starve on the streets without a family or home.
Irreverence becomes your only security,
The only haven from a past of blind convictions,
But you can't help but wince at your every move,
As you find that your disillusionment is just another religion.
[Part II: Indignity]
Is existence just the outcome of bootless persistence
And every action committed an act of failure?
Like an abusive relationship that thrives on the victim's excuses,
Do we live simply to find meaning in our own torture?
Is everyone expendable and recycled like trash?
Do we all live on the back of somebody else?
Unjustifiable seems the atrocity of being alive,
For needlessly we obey and serve the kingdom of the blind.
Or is existence just the expression of mutual need?
Perhaps indignity was always the real cancer.
All of our misery can be traced to our confusion,
Our unmet hopes and dreams.
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2. |
Ego Death
16:51
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[Part I: The Quest For Freedom]
A canyon lay ahead.
Everything was made of living flesh.
Everything was made of
Living flesh.
Every object has a voice;
Every object has a personality.
Every object has a voice;
Every object has a personality.
I can feel my organs inside of me;
They're screaming -
They want to get out.
I feel like meat.
I feel like meat.
My body is a writhing mass,
Ashamed of stealing oxygen
Ashamed of asking or needing,
Ashamed of my own incarnation.
Detachment is a place of seeing clearly
But having my head in the clouds,
And compassion is earned through suffering
But having my head in the ground.
Either way I am ignorant.
Either way I am blind.
Either way the beast called Karma
Spins the crushing wheel of Time.
Either way I am ignorant.
Either way I am blind.
In each case I am ignoring
Either storm clouds or sunlight.
Listen to the earth.
Listen to the earth.
She's screaming.
I can feel the anger inside of me.
It, too, is screaming,
And it needs to get out,
For everything is death and sex.
Everything is made of
Living flesh.
[Part II: Catharsis]
And all I could feel was hatred.
All I could feel was hatred.
Every exertion was wrung with frailty,
Every fit of anger an act of futility,
Anger at a life
Of endless impossibilities.
You saw what you wanted to see,
But did not see me.
This turmoil could not be expressed,
Howling like a wind in a breaking glass,
"I am a living accident.
I am a fumbling mistake,"
Confusion pounding like a mallet on my skull,
A gobbet of deformed and beaten clay,
Self induced trauma strutting and boasting,
Loathingly and afraid.
Self blame strutting, boasting
Like a peacock with its feathers sprawled,
Me behind it with a chain around my neck,
Crawling like maggots crawl.
Melting, breaking, molten steal
Is every emotion I fail to feel,
And all I can feel is hatred.
All I can feel is
Confusion pounding like a mallet on my skull,
A gobbet of deformed and beaten clay.
Self induced trauma strutting and boasting,
Loathingly and afraid.
Howling like a wind in a breaking glass,
"I am a fucking mistake.
I am a loveless bastard,
And everything I touch turns to disaster."
All I can feel is hated.
All I can feel is hated.
All I can feel is hated.
All I can feel is
Melting, breaking, molten steel
Is every emotion I fail to feel,
And all I can feel is hatred.
All I can feel is...
[Part III: Master/Slave]
Love stripped away,
For we are all our own master and slave.
You say flesh is sin?
Or is sin just a word for exploitation, pride, and shame?
Beat me, choke me, gag me,
Teach me to beg for my pain,
Teach me to hate myself
And to see vanity in everything.
Scratch and mark my skin,
Bite and lick my fucking skin.
Humiliate me, rectify me,
Cover my mouth, dominate me,
Bound my hands, castrate me,
Torment and manipulate me,
Blind me, invade my privacy,
Fuck me, kill me, masticate me,
Tie me to this tree, crucify me,
Give me a sense of belonging
Then mortify me.
Beat me, choke me, gag me,
Teach me to beg for my pain,
Teach me to hate myself,
For we are all our own master and slave.
[Part IV: Public Humiliation, Self Mutilation, Self Discovery]
What separates me
From the next tool?
What differentiates me
From any other fool?
I am nothing
But something to be fucked.
Ecstatic gasps for breath between
Each time I'm smothered in your cunt -
I'm worthless
Just like you who exploit me;
Exploit me
Exploiting you.
Degrade me
Break me down.
I am nothing,
But you are someone I can trust.
Enthralled in passion,
Artless expressions of lust.
I want to be your whore.
I want to be your whore.
I am sensitive and meek.
I am sensitive and meek.
I need you to take advantage of me.
Fuck me hard. Kill me again.
Cum for me. I'm worthless.
I think about you while masturbating.
I think about you while masturbating.
Objectify you as I objectify myself.
Objectify me as you objectify yourself.
I'm worthless.
Put your hands on me.
Put your hands all over me.
I want you to take advantage of me.
I am nothing
But something to be fucked.
I am nothing,
But you are someone I can trust.
Shove my cock inside your mouth.
Chew me up, and spit me out.
I'm worthless.
We're all worthless.
Kill me. Fuck me over and over again.
We're all filth. We're all filth.
We all deserve to burn in hell.
We all deserve to burn in hell.
Cum for me. I'm worthless.
And everything was made of
Living flesh...
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3. |
The Burning Abyss
03:37
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I'm being engulfed by my own fire.
It's consuming everyone who loves me.
I'm an endless abyss, drowning,
Sucking down everyone with me.
Llévame, mi Diosa; let me get lost
Deep within you and forget who I am.
Draw me to your nurturing womb,
And lead me to your promised land,
And my mouth shall run with your milk and honey.
Give yourself to me. You nourish and fulfill me.
I hold you tight as you receive me
Into your shelter - as we explode together.
Naked and vulnerable, shaking and grasping,
Ourselves, as one, indistinguishable - coming together.
I fill you deep, and you nurse me back to life.
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4. |
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[Part I: Yearning]
Yearning
For some etch of light,
Mine dreams are schemed
On irresolution and fright
And disillusioned spite.
[Part II: Having Sight But No Vision]
So where might be thine glories?
Edification, I call to thee.
The sun shines,
But all I see is a black sky.
Clinging to the frayed straws of my bitter abjection
With hands wrapped in the frail bandages of nescience,
Open mine closed hands and writeth unto them
The symphony inscribed in the scores of thy salience.
And while I search for all thine glories,
Edification, I run from thee.
The sun shines,
But all I see is a black sky.
Crawling through the burrows of habituated madness
Into obfuscous passages towards Hereafter
Where unsought countries lay barren in disremembrance;
Through the nebulous, I reach to lands ablaze with rapture.
The qualms of unfound haven -
Edification, obscured from me...
The sun shines,
But all I see is a black sky.
[Part III: And Yearn Indefinitely...]
Burning
With hunger, I draw
Nothing; I feel nothing,
And yet, I feel it all...
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5. |
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[Part I: The Meaning Of Life]
At the centre of the Milky Way
A supernova's shining,
And at the centre of our hearts,
A sun is dying.
None of our lives matter,
And we are all going to die,
And Nirvana is the freedom in knowing
There is no meaning to life.
Everything that we see,
Hear, taste, touch, and smell
Is organized chaos,
Devoid of reason - in and of itself.
We are all one organism,
One self stimulating orgasm,
Climaxing and expiring as one -
To conceive ourselves again.
[Part II: Dustsceawung]
The roads beyond howl in busy dysphoria,
Moaning unconsciously in dissatisfaction.
How they tire of the same, redundant rout.
Like them, like all of us, I call to some way out.
Mundane it seems to live and to survive,
For if all it is is survival, how can you even call it life?
Our name is "Dust-Sceawung."
Our name is "Dust-Sceawung."
I see blank expressions on a city bus,
Tired mothers, and their wailing young.
I hear the tapping of feet, the race against time,
Staggered and drunken after some unattainable goal.
We're actors unaware, and Habit is the playwright of Folly,
The drama in which we are playing our roles.
Out he spake,
Out he spake,
"Let there be light - but no dark,
Let there be mind - but no heart,
Let there be man - but no woman."
Divine rejection of the feminine.
Divine rejection of the feminine.
God made us in her image,
And we made him in ours,
A timeless flow turned into
The obedient march of hours.
Are we but dust and to dust we shall return?
Or are we the flame in which it burns?
Our name is "Dust-Sceawung."
Our name is "Dust-Sceawung;"
Some existence now expired
Is moving like water through the winds.
Exalt the Emptiness.
Worship the Void.
Praise be to Nothing.
We are begotten by space.
Nothing, Nothing, Nothing, Nothing...
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Heart Of The Bereaved Nashville, Tennessee
Neurodivergent, interdisciplinary performance art howling at you from the putrefactive bowels of the Bible Belt since 2009.
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