jugular lifting

poppy jealous

Crying During Sex - Ethel Cain

dust bowl (demo) by ethel cain

waco, texas- ethel cain (demo)

one of her best that’s for sure

Sunday morning and I’m wasted
Had too much to drink again
Preacher’s saying God will save me
If God is real, He’s a fucking bitch

Tell my baby that I love her
But, right now, mama’s gotta go
I didn’t ask to be this crazy
But since we’re here, I’ll give them a show

Always run from the best of them
But I’ll fall for a piece of shit
Half-cocked ’cause he’s not a big boy
And I don’t wanna know that half of him

If you try to hurt me, I won’t stop you
But there’s something you should know
It’s that my daddy’s fucking crazy
And always ready to blow

The first boy I ever loved
Was a brother I never had
I thought, with him, maybe I’d make it
Maybe it’d be half as bad

Spеnt my nights under the covers
Just wishing hе was there
Draw his portrait in my diary
Just to hold when I got scared

Now I’m fucked up and I’m nasty
But they say I make it look good
I don’t do what my mama told me
I just do what my mama would

I don’t starve ’cause I hate my body
I just starve ’cause I’m fucking broke
And on my mama, I hate this country
America is a fucking joke

What’s gonna scare me when I’ve seen it all?
Been too sick to walk, so I had to crawl
When you leave, turn off the light
I leave my door open at night
To be strung out and still be stone cold
To reach the end, but never close to old
I don’t feel good, but I don’t wanna cry
If I can’t live, can I just fucking die?

half-cocked - Ethel Cain

Poppy - Greater Heights

Poppy - The Hatchet

Poppy - Thread

The Cutting Edge - Poppy

Summer Breeze - Poppy

All My Fault

I Heart Poppy

 Collapse Into Glory is a post-hardcore descent into sacred fire—twelve tracks forged from scripture, silence, and rebellion. It’s a record of prophets and prisoners, of altars that don’t burn and crowns earned through blood. Each song confronts the tension between spectacle and truth, between riot and whisper, between the blade and the breath that follows.

 This isn’t worship—it’s war. From the wilderness to the grave, from temptation to transfiguration, the album walks through collapse to find what’s holy in the wreckage. It’s for the faithful who scream, bleed, and rise. Glory doesn’t come clean—it comes through fire.


The Cutting Edge - Poppy

cocopuff

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