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The fire burns on our side,
Their cities tinder, fuel, and fodder.

They hide in their castles and wait for the dawn,
Their eyes closed to the masses lying in wait,
Hiding in plain sight in costume.
Pretending to be the chosen corps.

Our faces hidden from their sight,
Not what they chose for us.

We build our own world without them,
Project our own true identities,
Burn all imposed rags;
We can live how we’ve always wanted.

Storm their bastille.

I am distorted,
I am distilled,
I am a machine,
Everyone is.

I’m not a mistake,
I am not you,
(You’re a cartoon,)
No one is.

Fuck your delusion,
No one is nothing.
Fuck your illusion,
No one is nothing.

Storm their bastille.


from Split LP with Landbridge, released February 23, 2017


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Autarch Asheville, North Carolina

space-crust from Asheville, NC.

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