Vocals, guitar, bass, programming, lyrics, mixing, mastering by Tim Bukowski 
Crowd vocals by Tim Bukowski, Jim Mortenson, David Malendez, Rene Reyes

Lyrics:
My eyes are melting from my fucking face 
As I read the words written across the page. 
The news is written in poison ink, 
Slowly infecting my will to think and learn. 

The man on t.v. speaks with a forked tongue. 
He's dressed in red, but he's not the only one. 
That silver tongue slips between serpents' lips. 
He whispers softly as his views eclipse the truth. 

My ears they ring with hypnopaedic hums. 
What the brain is fed is what the brain becomes. 
That's why I'm starving myself to death, 
'Cuz they're making monsters out of everybody they can. 

My head is spinning. I feel so lost 
In a world that thrives on betraying trust. 

Face the face of the truth that nobody is telling you. 
Here's what you do, at the top of your lungs scream 
Motherfuckers we're on to you. 

Motherfuckers we're on to you now.

Behind The Inner Walls

Hollow Symbols - The Ugly Face Of The Truth

Vocals, guitar, bass, programming, lyrics, mixing, mastering by Tim Bukowski 
Additional vocals, lyrics by Carlos Santiago 
Crowd vocals by Tim Bukowski, Jim Mortenson, and David Malendez

Lyrics:
Your innocence is insignificant here in the 50 United police States 
Where they patrol the streets for profit. 
Probable cause probably don't got it, 
Not like they need it anyway. 
It's totalitarian, the capitalization on the criminalization of our private lives. 
What the fuck is a victimless crime? 

Hey! How can you feel safe when you put your streets 
In the hands of sadists? 
Hey! How can you feel safe when you put your streets 
In the hands of theives? 

When you give a pig a gun he'll pretend that he's a man 
And develop a God-complex. 
So I say do unto cops what cops have done to others, 
Let's keep the dogs in check. 
Just stop the Gestapo tactics. Quit compensating for your small dicks. 
Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me 
You fucking faggot? 

(Throw'd the Unstable): You ain't got a trustworthy face, 
Walk into a building, stir up the whole mothafuckin' place.
And you ain't intimidating, you're more pussy than two mothafuckin' Homo women dating 
More guilty than the stupid slut when she inseminated 
More bloody than the fuckin baby when eliminated. 
There's nothin' we can really do to try and save it, 
They was meant to be a cop, that's a life well wasted. 
The boys in blue will poison you imprison you, ignore the truth. 
T'm tellin' you, the broken judicial system ain't for the youth. 
The mothafuckas in the jury are the same mothafuckas on the next day up in church in a confession booth. 
Lord forgive me for putting that boy in jail. 
I sort of meant it but can you keep me out of hell? 
What a fuckin' joke and shit, you the reason people kill. 
I'll mothafuckin choke a bitch before you put me in a cell. 

You can not fuckin' touch me. 
You should not fuckiin' touch me. 

Hey! How can you feel safe when you put your streets 
In the hands of pigs?

Hollow Symbols - F.C.I.T.B.H. (Feat. Throw'd The Unstable)

Vocals, guitar, banjo, lyrics written and performed by Jim Mortenson 
Bass, accordion, programming, mixing, mastering by Tim Bukowski

Lyrics:
I døn't knøw where tø gø, I løcked my$elf øutta the høu$e again! 
I lø$t my key$, that much is u$ual, likely før me tø play the $ame føur chørd$! 
Every $øng i$ the $ame før yøu tø decipher thøught$ frøm my nøn-exi$tant brain! 
I can't explain why I møved away, with friend$ leaving tøwn there are le$$ place$ tø $tay! 

I døn't knøw what i$ wrøng with me, ør why I hurt everybødy that I meet... 

I $tøød there and watched them beat yøu up, yøu $aved my life and I didn't de$erve it! Every $ingle heart that I $tøle, ended up brøke and I knøw nø øne de$erve$ it! 
I called yøu øut øn flaw$ yøu cøuldn't help, and yøu really did nøt de$erve it! 
I am $ø glad $ømeøne finally kicked my a$$, becau$e it wa$ exactly what I de$erved!!! 

I døn't knøw what i$ wrøng with me, ør why I hurt everybødy that I meet... 
I'm $ørry friend$, I'm $ørry family, I'm $ørry my enemie$. I døn't expect yøu tø $ay that it'$ øk, becau$e it's NøT AND IT NEVER WILL BE!!!! 

A$ far a$ I'm cøncerned it never will be! 

There i$ nø changing the pa$t...

The Apocalypse Party - Apologetic

Vocals, guitar, banjo, lyrics written and performed by Jim Mortenson 
Bass, accordion, programming, mixing, mastering by Tim Bukowski

Lyrics:
I can't $tøp the bømb$, falling frøm the $ky, but I can try, tø change my life... 

I'm afraid øf everything I $EE, I'd rather $tay in$ide øf my høu$e tøday, 
with my guitar and videø game$, and believe in an American Dream. 
Høw cøuld $hit like thi$ happen? it'$ beyønd my cøntrøl, 
Føurteen year$ øf viølence $ince I wa$ $even year$ øld, 
didn't try tø make a difference tø derange cømmøn ideal$, I cøulda died in my ignørance! 

I've been grø$$ed øut by everything I EAT, becau$e I knøw it i$ nøt natural. 
I knøw it can be hard tø $leep, when yøu rely øn thø$e melatønin cap$ule$. 
I dream øf a greener future, but can't think pa$t what I inhale, 
everyday a new crutch før u$ tø pa$$ the time. 
We're fighting the wrøng battle$ and di$tracted by what we're $øld and mi$lead tø believe everything i$ fine. 

I can't $tøp the bømb$, falling frøm the $ky, but I can try, tø change my life... 

I'm terrified øf what I might HEAR, øn the radiø wave$, and the telivi$iøn $et$, thi$ wørld cøuld end før u$ in March or April, it wøuldn't make any difference. I can't $tøp the bømb$, frøm falling frøm the $ky, but I can try, tø øpen up yøur eye$...

The Apocalypse Party - Wake Up!

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

My Guises

My Guises/Non-Existent

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Tumbling through this unfamiliar ocean.
Waves composed of color and emotion.
Growing cold you'll only feel the sting and bite.
Thrash around and please enjoy the motion,
But this tide indifferent just keeps flowing.
Merge into the current, let it move you.
Let it give you life.

Submerging, emerging evermore.
Surrender you'll never know the shore.
Breathe underwater.

All is calm if only for a moment,
The tumultuous ebb and flow of forces
Grants a moment of reflection, soak it in.
Gripping tight that chain down to your anchor.
Your resistance only ends in failure.
Waves erode the safety and the danger,
Then the ride begins.

Shaped by the swirling waters,
Named by the beatings we've endured.
Learn to receive the lessons.
Chaos, the teacher we adore.

Breathe underwater, love what you're going through.
Breathe underwater, feed the ocean inside you.

Breathe Underwater

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Hollow inside, building walls to disguise,
Sealing me in between,
Squeezing meaning and spirit from life.
Fake, this illusion of strength.
Stamping feet on the ground 'til it all falls away.

How can we communicate
When our language won't vibrate
Through this edifice we call home
Where we sit trembling and guarded and all alone?

Your protection, it's not true.
It's not you.
Demolition time is here.
Have no fear.

Stack your bricks tall, tower over us all.
But I can see center's weak.
I'll be holding my breath 'til they fall.
Scream as you're buried beneath,
Reaching hand for that feeling your whole life you flee.

I watched you push the world away,
Cling to your treasure buried deep.
Now with our spoils all exposed
In the light of the day we will see how it all decomposed.

Hollow inside. When will we realize
Value's lost in a vault kept for one set of eyes.
Open the door, keeping secrets no more.
Beauty's free to be seen and a soul free to explore.

This is not your fault. We're each other's walls.
Don't wanna tear you down. I wanna steal you out.

Cities without any citizens.
Cities without civilization.

I pray, one day, that humanity will simultaneously let Down our defenses, at last at peace when we become Who we truly are.

Demolition

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Fog light hindsight.
With a whiskey gaze the gaze gets softer,
But don't stumble this path any farther.
Smell white to last the night.
Now you're numb but for a throbbing head piece,
A pounding heart and an aching feeling this has gotta change.

Feel this all the way.
The spirit will reset, but the body won't forget.
Be here now.

Strained eyes lose sight.
When tears and bottles act as lenses,
Chemicals react defensive.
You'll find what you hide.
Cuz the truth resists intoxication,
Most sobering of revelations.

Be Here Now

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Quiet. Still this troubled mind.
Focus and then realize.
Try it. Look and you will find.
Show us the truth you've designed.

Underneath the surface lurks a better purpose.
When you're feeling worthless tap into the void and become nothing.
Breeding ground of something, perpetual becoming.
All this needless struggling wears you down
Until you say that you've had enough.

Search this cell where you reside. 
Magic is hidden inside.
Manifest it, then move past it.

Let nobody tell you who you are.
Defy their curses, you're no servant.
Let nobody tell you who you are. 
Their words are worthless when you know yourself.

I am undefined.

Undefined

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Sigh of the lonely one, feeding the oxygen to kindle signal fires.
Dancing we scatter sparks across the empty dark, a celestial empire.
Sigh of the lonely one, a rippling vibration, just feel it and you'll know.
The body has heard your cries. The angels arrive at night,
No you are not alone.

And in the stillness you can feel it like a pulse, listen close.
Feel the impressions of the hands you'd like to hold like a ghost.
Though time and place seem like they'll seldom realign, bear in mind.
These paths connect in ways you'd seldom realize with your eyes.No 

And when you get down on your knees and say a prayer someone's there.
We are the universe we are it's eyes and ears, and its fears.
Through time and space a quantum being draws a line, a divide.
Unanimously we're aware, we are defined. And we'll find...

We're haunted. I am haunted. We're haunted. I am all alone.
I'm haunted. We are haunted. I'm haunted. We are all alone.

It's me, everybody. I'm nobody dreaming up so many somebodies.
Reality's nothing to me. I can see and hear what I want to see.

Not haunted. We're not haunted. Not haunted. I am not alone.

Time drains the light from us all.
Burn with the might of your soul.
Sigh breath of life let us know
That once we have died we are whole.

Make me feel alive.

Not Alone/Haunted

Not Alone Haunted

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Communication error. Forgot the cipher,
Now the signals you've been sending are coming in on different waves.
I disconnect, then so do you. The grid goes down, we all fall through.
We're screaming now, our voices mute.
This language our receptors won't compute.

Communication error.
Forgot to translate 1's and 0's into tokens of affection.
Electric souls run out of fuel. Conductor's down, they're of no use.
Forgot the power we once knew
That made the current dance and bend and move.

Without it I found it, the access where my core should be.
Without it I found that I crave your energy.

When you deconstruct the pieces
You can see how deep the problem goes.
I can't reconnect the wires between us ' til I reconnect my own.

I'm not the only one with a heart and tongue
And intentions much more tender than this vehicle conveys.

Communication error. Repeat the words, I'll feign the meaning
'Til you radiate what you're afraid to say.
We're all built the same, I don't blame you.
Constructing here without a clue.
Cause language fails but actions prove we are machines of love
We must produce.

Without it I found that we make our own energy.

I'm not the only one with a heart and tongue
And intentions much more tender than this vehicle conveys.
It's time to plug back in to the electrifying consciousness
I hope to pulse with you inside one day.

Please forgive me I just need some time to be alone.

Communication Error

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and produced by Timothy Steven Bukowski

Something's down in the keep.
Could be one or many.
Floyd around, cackling.
Empty halls echoing.

Terrified, haunted by shadows and shapes.
Poltergeists, violent ' til given a name.
This house tops an unmarked grave.

Mold and dust, growing teeth.
Overrun, leaving me...

Built a new room once I filled the old,
Packed it with ghosts then bolted the door.
Pregnant with pain this house screams my name.
Doubting myself I let it decay.

Specteres of emotion breaking out into the open,
I could read this as an omen but I'm terrified of
Ripping up the floor boards
To discover just how deformed
The foundation has grown, worn by years of inattention.
This house could never foster souls.
This heart cannot survive this home.
It's time to face the truth I've known for far too long
And level this hell to the ground.

Hollow Symbols

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