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Black Marble Carapace

by NIIII

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sleepersarelistening
sleepersarelistening thumbnail
sleepersarelistening Me and my many masks would not be around today if it weren’t for your work during this time.
I was always told I am open enough to allow others to feel their pain. None of they would have existed if you hadn’t made me feel like I could carve out my own space. You pointed me in the right direction, and ever since I look back in our talks over SoundCloud. I hope you are doing well.
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1.
Filter (In) 01:50
2.
Hader 05:28
3.
Zero Point 03:47
I cut off every Limb, Ravenous swells the nothingness, We're to succumb, My reticence, There are no thoughts to speak, I swallow myself in the aftermath, I'm to deplete, My Zero Point, We alleviate our sleep, Grievances serve the moment, I'm yours to keep, My dearest friend, We'll live our fallacies/fantasies, And wallow in atrocities, Put us to sleep, My Zero Point.
4.
Sedative 04:30
5.
L'usine 06:23
Les Aveugles Contemple-les, mon âme; ils sont vraiment affreux! Pareils aux mannequins; vaguement ridicules; Terribles, singuliers comme les somnambules; Dardant on ne sait où leurs globes ténébreux. Leurs yeux, d'où la divine étincelle est partie, Comme s'ils regardaient au loin, restent levés Au ciel; on ne les voit jamais vers les pavés Pencher rêveusement leur tête appesantie. Ils traversent ainsi le noir illimité, Ce frère du silence éternel. Ô cité! Pendant qu'autour de nous tu chantes, ris et beugles, Eprise du plaisir jusqu'à l'atrocité, Vois! je me traîne aussi! mais, plus qu'eux hébété, Je dis: Que cherchent-ils au Ciel, tous ces aveugles?
6.
I want to unravel my words A handful of silver dimes is my own reward Bright-minded child soothe me to intimacy And lance away the crusted inflammations of the troubled man Because I crave the death of myself And there are fleshen guns to load And there are plenty of brothers to kill There are children infront of monuments Awaiting your leave and the sudden enstrangement to take root Faded infront of lit screens woven in elseworlds, where I lost touch of the assets of slipping away into white sound where I always have been A favoured son for my infancy Where is the highness Where is the lightness, And Where is the brightness you've held I've belled back down from the pit of my snare tied to the armrests of clinical air And bathed in thoughts too broad And there are fleshen guns to load And there are plenty of brothers to kill There are children infront of monuments Awaiting your leave And the sudden enstrangement to take root How wretched love will string every cell Inside this sorrowed shell, Devoid of any purpose I'll trickle trough Painting myself in strokes of grey This self-sick me, into self-sick days And make me understand that I'm no carcass But I am a carcass for two
7.
The Lumineer 05:20

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Black Marble Carapace, conceptualized, written, recorded and produced by George Pemberton.

Album artwork by George Pemberton

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released August 1, 2014

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NIIII Germany

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