We all cry to pass the time. This is how we do things and this is what each day brings. 
Like a child who won’t believe in God like it’s supposed to. In anything good for you. 

Someone dies, no one knows why. Maybe they were alone? Maybe they had no one? 
Take away this fake parade of predators and vultures of decadence and pretence. 

The only thought of anger leaves me with my last breath. 
Separate my mind from my body. Body. 
I conquered this before you. I suffered all before you. 
I never got better, just reached a plateau of acceptance somehow. 

Spring begins not soon enough. It’s still cold every morning. The shower cannot warm me. 
Nothing less than a pure rush can force me out of bed. Or rouse my dormant head.

Strong Violent Type

Wake up and you’re tired, this is your lot. 
A makeup mask forever, this is your lot. 
Tearing out your eyes, as the TV dyes your mind. 
I can’t breathe without you, this is your lot. 

Unromantic gloom, in the bedroom. 
Silent solitary, regularly. 
I don’t wanna know if you feel alone. 
Can't you talk to me, like you used to, to me? 

Lazy conversation, this is your lot. 
Words I can't remember, this is your lot. 
Colour in your cheeks, after medicine for weeks. 
We sink for the better, this is your lot.

Back here again, lost intent, gone for good. 
Bed, my haven, wish for greatness torn off me. 
A torrent of empty headed dreams, wishes. 
A mess but a safe one, my epitaph. 

Driving for any importance you can. 
Hope for anything to remain. 
But you sat there in the dark alone. 
And wished for adversity of your own. 

The news breaks fast, the tragedies flood and crash. 
A purpose at last bemoaning a passing. 
A chill runs through. You shiver with excitement. 
A new talking point, the blight of others, not you. 

The buzz wears off, the pain returns again. 
Now the only regret is the joy it brought. 
You're alone, sat in the dark, all light void. 
Nothing has changed, you're still the same, useless.

Of Substance

A mother calls to her child. 
I don’t mean to utter blindly. 
But I declare that she doesn’t care. 
Maternal hate is all that’s there. 

Future days will come and they will be halcyon. No more energy is spent on this love that is a let down. 

A loveless, old community. 
Filled with pure atrocities. 
I’m only here because I am. 
A setting son in a lost land.

I'm Only Here

Eyes are photogenic, I meet you sometimes, thinking on it for too long. 
Lips of velvet silence, Never kissed someone without tonguing deeply back. 
And now, I see, you never speak to me anymore. Your face is still a waste of tastelessness, you whore. 

Our mouths we shared before we heard each other speak any words. 
Your name irrelevant to me, my life has left me blinkered. 
See me, harlot, the boy you knew. 
Tell me something like “I remember you”. 

Never seen you sober. Can’t you face yourself, even when you clearly see? 
Lately I’ve been looking for other nightmares, not the ones I’ve come to know. 
And now, I see, you never speak to me anymore. Hate me with so much energy, I hate you more.

Nothing Felt Again

Always knew you hated me. The hour never changes. 
Now you’re gone from history, Leave an empty city. 
As I mend my perception. The delusion that I’m someone. 
As I swing around my six tonne second guesses. 
Make it on your own somehow. Think around the problems you face. 
In the crowd you’re not around. Forms a solitary place. 
As your lover walks away from you and I daren’t say a word to you. 
As I bury all my thoughts of the times you broke my soul. 

Oh, What a mess that we've become. 
What high hopes we once conceived. 
Only dreams of mediocrity remain. 
And even they slip away. 

I let down my ambition, subversion at the highest cost. 
A freak of her own somehow, self obsession, disgust, proud. 
In a vitriolic state, squander what I’ve never had of late. 
On a memory once held. An idea I wished true. 
Separate the buildings out into trophies I don’t care about. 
Lucky minds they weave the path. Mutilate themselves like that. 
I don’t care what I must do to break free of this nightmare. 
To leave you all behind. I don’t want you anymore.

Squanderer

I’m the hospital in view. 
I’m the policeman arresting you. 
I’m the cracks in your ceiling. 
I’m the drug that stops you realising. 

Null and void. 
Null and void. 
Null and void, 
You remain this way. 
Null and void. 
Null and void. 
Null and void, 
You retain this state. 

I’m connecting all that’s there. 
I’m the colour of your greying hair. 
I’m your fake, still beating heart 
Of the lie that makes you feel a martyr. 

I’m awake because I slept 
For a long time, there's no era left. 
I’m the motor-mouth no more. 
I’m the one who kills himself before I’m

Null & Void

I feel so ill. I rearrange myself again, it’s hard to take. 
I’ve made my bed. Disorder drives my motion fast. The voices passed away. 
Suddenly I’m alone, all along I have known, I’m only half a liar. Signifier. 
I want the hour from a lifetime ago, forever. 

Hard to redefine disease. My own is so 
I can’t function, high consumption just shy of my compulsion. 

I want to break all of my springs in my bed, hitting my head. 
Eyelashes pulled out with my fit of either rage or pure obsession.
Under me totally, this control I never see. As I relapse into hate, and the chaos won’t relate. 
I curl up behind my nature. And lash out.

O.C.O.

Single from the new EP/Album coming in the summer.
To download this song visit:
https://in-kind.bandcamp.com/track/inside-mother

To cling inside.  To survive
This womb choking my child.
To self destruct is to be.
Persona so hard to fake.

Hard, hard to hold on.  I slip down inside mother.
Falling.  Trapped within a bare wall of familiar skin.

Inside Mother

Written and recorded by Ed Camphor and Alex Jackson

M.A.D

Ed Camphor - Bass, Production, Drum Machine.
Alex Jackson - Guitar, Vocals, Drum Machine.

In-Kind is a two piece, post punk band based on the Wirral. We write songs about relationships, the media, growing up and the projected future.

In-Kind

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