Mgla
Exercises in Futility
1. Exercises In Futility I
The great truth is there isn't one
And it only gets worse since that conclusion
The irony of being an extension to nothing
And the force of inertia is now a vital factor
And there is despair underneath each and every action
Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of numbness
Burning bridges becomes a habit to support
And the front line expands like there's no tomorrow
I envy the maggots
Their stuff at least sticks together
Better than laudations of misinformed seers
And those are lengthy annals of shame that we work with
It's like dumping dead meat at the brink of Styx
With a barge that we made of what was left of Yggdrasil
After veterans of spiritual revolts were done with their armchairs
And I don't even remember which brink is which
The odour of sanctity is just refined stench of existence
Shining pearl of Augeas' crown pales in comparison
And there is despair underneath each and every action
Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of numbness
Burning bridges becomes a habit to support
And the front line expands like there's no tomorrow
The grotesque eagles of misfortune, well fed on thanatos, sit still
It's the dignity of scavengers at the ever growing garbage dump of life
There is something about the rigid posture of a proper, authentic blind
As if extended arms reached to pass his blindness onto others
2. Exercises In Futility II
There is a style in total denial
A certain elegance of fear
Hesychasm is so much convenient
With the desert within ourselves
Stray dogs lead disciples of Oedipus
As the shrouds gently cover
Exquisite paroxysms of ruin
And well mannered choking on nothingness
Nether
The cracks in soma, psyche and pneuma
Are as one way mirrors
It's one well lit desert
And the pyres extend beyond the horizon
And cold flames flicker upon ashes of hope
Through hallways carved in a crystal
On to the uttermost parts of the pit
Jostling through cadavers of former selves
You would swear there's amusement in the eyes of the dead
Again, nether
A reward for the perseverant:
Unceasing howling of the heart
Bound to walk this path
Nether, again, nether - now and forever
I wish it was classic fire and brimstone
But clearly there is a very special plan
Paved with havoc and shattered virtues
As if there were any other paths
With every dream
The pyres grow taller
An enemy of trust
A misled scholar
Stray philanthrope
In vain endeavor
Walk this path
Now and forever
3. Exercises In Futility III
We hold an honorary degree in natural science
For stratigraphy of rock bottom
The layers were aplenty, as above, so below
But mostly below
The research is vast, thorough and firsthand
And it's a broad array of sources
For the complete guide to spiritual asshole of the world
A tour in words, sounds and pictures
Of the true south of nadir
Through burial grounds for broken dreams and crippled souls
The graves are shallow
We would dig them up with our bare hands
Just to rise above for a split second
And see them basked in the light of a dead sun
Beneath the sky of shit
And then take notes
Meticulously
We would consume deathbed confessions
Create a language of fading words
For this night is without end
We would compute dynamics of grief
And logic of venom, and we would listen
As history is written on cold skin of prophets
With vulture claws soaked in rat saliva
For this night is without end
4. Exercises In Futility IV
Some are born without a purpose
Other than prolonged demise in ornate ways
Most of the time it's pathetic, quick and useless
And good neighbours don't bother digging up the graves
It's rows upon rows of kings, whores and pawns
And the storm is rolling
The vengeful and the bitter reach out for their fix
Rebels never realized that their angst was a mockery
Every empire
Every nation
Every tribe
Thought it would end
In a bit more decent way
It is an unlikely alliance of assorted failures
Various degrees of deceit, doomsday prophets
The clenched teeth, the vinegar down the veins
A stylish pit right next to Judas, Brutus and Cassius
Every empire
Every nation
Every tribe
Thought it would end
In a bit more decent way
Every prophet
Every ruler
Every seer
Will chew on this ruin
And repeat ad nauseam
5. Exercises In Futility V
Blessed be the tailors
The masks are cut to fit
Blessed be the woodworkers
The crosses and the gallows
Blessed be the forgers of iron
And the spikes and the barbwire
Blessed be the stone cutters
It took a quarry to bury the dreams
Blessed be the misery, the filth, the discord and the horror
Blessed be the lies, the guilt, the fear, the woe and the betrayal
For these ones didn't need any outside source
For these ones come from within
And here it is
Grown from within
An invincible stronghold
Adorned with death
A suit of shining armour
Replaced the skin
And calligraphed sins
Are as coat of arms
Hollow
6. Exercises In Futility VI
As if you didn't know how it feels to lose
As if you didn't know how it feels to lose at dice with fate
At least have some dignity
As if it wasn't a lifetime spent on connecting the dots
There was no pattern
As if the irony was more than a defense mechanism
And we could actually laugh for a change
As if steel hooks in our backs were more than a nuisance
And we could actually feel something
Self crucified - missed the right tree
Tore the wrong eye out
The hissing of hellfire
Self crucified - missed the right tree
For this I have gained a victory
I burn as I ought to
As if everything was to be made right one day
Dreams don't come true for people like us
As if the gods were bored with peace in our hearts
And their fingers are itchy
As if we never broke people out of sheer boredom
And slept calmly among the wastes
And then we see bright and clear
As if we would be someone else
While mindlessly wandering through the mountains
As if we would be someone better
Expelling purgatory in Latin alphabet
Self crucified - missed the right tree
Tore the wrong eye out
The hissing of hellfire
Self crucified - missed the right tree
For this I have gained a victory
I burn as I ought to
As if all this was something more
Than another footnote on a postcard from nowhere
Another chapter in the handbook for exercises in futility
Darkside — Drums
M. — Vocals, Guitars, Bass
Lyrics in plain text format
