We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

The Day The Birds Died

by Spoils Of Grace

supported by
MELLOW
MELLOW thumbnail
bitcorrupter
bitcorrupter thumbnail
bleedinghole
bleedinghole thumbnail
Jennifer Dawn Adams
Jennifer Dawn Adams thumbnail
dofee
dofee thumbnail
sixgunspaghetti
sixgunspaghetti thumbnail
larrabee
larrabee thumbnail
/

about

The end times. Man has begged for this to come down like a hammer. Our own destruction is brought upon us by our arrogance. Our Natural urge to deconstruct and perish all that surrounds us. We think we understand... But we are so far from being able to break down the complexities of our place here.... We have asked for this, from a knowing deep within.This is destiny. We have sealed our fate and have long surpassed the point of inflection. ...And even though, the proof is all around us, we still don't see the truth of what we have brought upon ourselves. There is no room for prayer here... No more.

"The sky has opened up.
We have been locked away so long.
But it is not the sun that returns....

I walk beneath trees of gold, brightly shone in my guilt.
Washing me away like the tide of dead.
My armor is rendered brittle and soft, like the burning embers of my fragile heart.
Am I to lay bare and vulnerable?
With no shelter from the storm?
Shall I crawl like the leper, and weep like the bows?
I have come before you, in reflection of my sorrow.
I am exposed to you as my scars are presented.
I watch in great fear and wonder as they fall from the sky.
The flint sheds the spark as the skin is cleansed.
I am the salt and the root.
I am the soil that has been rocked like the cradle.
I kneel...There is no room for prayer here... No more..

The sky has opened up.
We have been locked away so long.
But it is not the sun that returns.

lyrics

It is not the sun that returns....

He comes to reach for souls in the garden,
With crucifix in hand.
Steps into the blighted trap,
To watch the nails go in.
Coiled up tight inside his shell,
his true beliefs are hardened.
Just another casualty,
Whichever way the tides are turning.
Hold it dear and close,
Flesh that burns under twisted sun.
Blinded by the light,
A hole that's filled with beast and burden.

Chorus:

Blacken out the skies like a poison.
I know you need it oh so bad.
Can you feel me suffering?
Bent on broken knees at last.

I walk beneath trees of gold, brightly shone in my guilt.
Washing me away like the tide of dead.
My armor is rendered brittle and soft, like the burning embers of my fragile heart.
Am I to lay bare and vulnerable?
With no shelter from the storm?
Shall I crawl like the leper, and weep like the bows?
I have come before you, in reflection of my sorrow.
I am exposed to you as my scars are presented...
And I watch in great fear and wonder as they fall from the sky.

Serpents weaved like wicker baskets,
as the moon is made of wax.
Upon these withered waters,
hidden by the graves of past.
Upon the backs of laden horses,
and bound by shadows cast.
Harbor the richest taste of flesh,
Look upon as we lay in death

(All poetry and lyrics by Darrell Sharp)

credits

released August 20, 2021
All music written and composed by Darrell Sharp.
Produced, Recorded, mixed and mastered by Darrell Sharp at Dark StarChasm Studios 2021. Additional looping, glitches and textures contributed by Fabio Lima Souto. (c) Dark StarChasm Noise Theories 2021

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Spoils Of Grace image

Spoils Of Grace Kamloops, British Columbia

Industrial... dark and experimental.. Made in isolation. And in heartbroken, paranoid, and anxious states of being.

contact / help

Contact Spoils Of Grace

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this track or account

If you like Spoils Of Grace, you may also like:

Bandcamp Daily  your guide to the world of Bandcamp

On Bandcamp Radio

Featuring Riley Pinkerton (aka The Rat Queen) from the theatrical NYC rockers, Castle Rat.
listen now