Begin Again
	
		(C)
		
		* Oh, my sweet, sweet Purity Ring. *
		
		Begin again. 
		
		I've been watchin' your kindness keep a lonely company.
		Look at the fire and think of me.
		I've been watchin' you creep 'round my wandering feet.
		Tryin' for years to flee.
		
		I need not one thing more.
		Oh, wrap the ground around.
		Your gentle winding mind.
		Oh, guard the pounding sound.
		Breathe in your fiery air.
		Oh, wrap the ground around.
		Give back an [sic] hungrier stare.
		
		You be the Moon [sic], I'll be the Earth [sic].
		And when we burst, start over, oh darling.
		Begin again.
		Begin again.
		
		You be the Moon I'll be the Earth and when we burst start over oh darling, oh darling.
		
		Oh darling. . .
		Oh darling, I'd begin again if you asked me to. * Yes, even the cover is directed at her. Impressive, is it not? *
		I would begin again.
		Begin again.
		I wish we could, but you, you never spoke to me again.
		Begin again.
		
		My Moon, oh my Moon.
		Not even into another 'ternity will stop your lovely orbiting.
		I had held it a world away until my body 'gan to say.
		Until my body 'gan, 'til it 'gan to say.
		
		I need not one thing more.
		Oh, wrap the ground around.
		Your gentle winding mind.
		Oh, guard the pounding sound.
		Breathe in your fiery air.
		Give back an 'ungrier stare.
		
		You be the Moon, I'll be the Earth.
		And when we burst, start over, oh darling.
		Begin again.
		You be the Moon, I'll be the Earth.
		When we burst, start over, oh darling.
		Begin again.
		
		Oh darling.
		Begin again.
		Begin again.
		
		You be the Moon, I'll be the Earth.
		And when we burst, start over, oh darling.
		Begin again.
		Oh darling.
		You be the Moon, I'll be the Earth.
		When we burst, start over, oh darling.
		Begin again.
		
		-- in --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - Begin Again (Purity Ring Cover)

Ouroboros 
	
		(III)
		
		So many reasons, myriad the circumstances, sights, I can't scry why.
		What are you 
		
		Looking for?
		How long have you sought?
		It's been years for me.
		
		And one time I may have had it, but I try not to
		
		Think about that now.
		The point is I'm here now.
		Oh, whenever shall I see 
		
		You?
		It's fun to think of it as fate in times of doubt.
		
		The doubt can get dire.
		Believe me, I have doubted.
		But fret not.
		
		They say what you seek is what
		
		Seeks you.
		It's a little bit like that old Nietzsche thing. * If you stare into the abyss or whatever. *
		
		Are you seeking?
		I'm afraid of the supernatural;
		Be not a spirit to me. 
		So 
		
		Far, the whole ocean is mostly ghostly.
		I have swam it
		
		Once before.
		I have seen the other shore.
		
		* This is my favorite guitar solo. *
		
		I am still sculpting.
		I've always wondered 
		
		If you could recognize me the way I am now.
		Don't admit it, I get it.
		If you were Kassiopeia, I would * We said the thing, even pronounced it with a 'K'. *
		
		Not let Poseidon lay even one finger on you.
		
		-- we --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - Ouroboros

The Ides Aren't In April
	
		(VI)
		
		The Ides are near. * No they weren't. Because they aren't in April. *
		Did you know Rome is my favorite empire?
		We are near to closing Begin Again.
		I hope
		
		Purity Ring likes it. * Yeah, we're gonna send them our cover. *
		These days, realism creeps into my - my mind I swear it's not - not pessimism.
		It's just the game.
		
		But what shall we do today. . .
		
		I expect nothing at all, or the worst.
		I'll save myself.
		
		I search for clues cluelessly, and I've been so, oh so woefully wrong.
		Unfortunately, we make mistakes.
		Who needs 
		
		Amityville when we can revisit the past?
		I guarantee you, though: it's okay now.
		We make mistakes, and that will have to be o-
		
		-Kay.
		We make mistakes, and that will have to be okay.
		I guarantee you, it'll all be okay though.		
		
		They make you you.		
		Be not a captive.
		Reflect, and move on when it's time.
		
		I thought I knew what I wanted, and these months have taught me 
		
		I know nothing.
		How can you know what to look for when you so rarely see it?
		I can't help but sometimes worry.
		
		Were you ever worried?
		Are you worried now?
		I understand; tomorrow is worrisome.
		But what shall we do today?
		
		I thought I was over it, but I still see the deceased.
		My secret shame is I never - I never loved you enough, and now I can't change that.
		
		-- hope --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - The Ides Aren't In April

Apex (No Relation To Black Dahlia)
	
		(VII)
		
		I'm thinking of scarring my hand.
		Perhaps diamonds would look nice.
		There is -
		
		There is something I'd like to tell you about, it's one of my most favorite topics:
		I want to live and die for you.
		That ache haunts me during daylight
		
		And during dreams.
		I wanna do the most mundane things with you.
		I don't know what to say, and can't say anything.
		By now,
		
		I thought these notions would go away.
		I'm just setting myself up.
		Have you ever hoped despite knowing the consequences?
		
		Did you still venture anyway?
		Alas, hope dies last.
		It's nothing new:
		I am counting on the carving.
		I count the months in measures of five.
		
		And new seasons promise new life.
		What's your favorite season?
		When would you like to see me and Albany? * It's okay to reference yourself, right? *
		If we go during Winter [sic], I'll be watching for mist.
		Beautiful mo-
		
		-Ments are ahead.
		Whenever you're waiting, I hope you're okay.
		I'm done for the moment, but one day I'll do mundane things with you.
		
		Travel takes time; we make progress, but it takes so long.
		And sometimes I'm in the mind's thrall.
		Will alone can't
		
		Sustain us, but we can't leave our hearts out to wither.
		This is a game; do you see what I mean now?
		* inappropriate bleh *
		
		I 
		
		Make another ode to death every time I think of you as family.
		When we are dead, I'll show you all of my thoughts.
		You'll see what you mean.
		
		That's too far forward.
		I'll need a new aesthetic for the day this night comes.
		When the season arrives.
		
		I know you have woes.
		Sometimes all we do is stay alive until the eventide.
		And sometimes, that's all we can do.
		Just wait, and see: nothing lasts forever.
		
		Forever.
		Nothing lasts forever.
		I hope you're okay.
		
		-- fall --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - Apex (No Relation To Black Dahlia)

Verity
	
		(IV)
	
		I don't know if you'll guess how long I've been waiting to 
		
		Give this to you.
		It's March now, it's still months away.
		My impatience gets the best of me.
		
		You are the action that sparks the action,
		
		The thought behind the thought;
		Believe me, they are many.
		My mind spews them: tributaries from a flooded Summertime [sic] Nile.
		
		To be honest, sometimes these times are stressful.
		They are for all of us.
		
		I wish I knew what was eating you, and I'd try to 
		
		Take your stress away.
		But I can't, not here, not yet.
		What hurts me now is the pool is a
		
		Blizzard.
		Should I even credit it?
		
		I don't mention it for pity, though I admit sometimes that's how I feel.
		And it's not insecurity, at least not right now.
		
		It's just that it's hurt me, it's just that the unsurety [sic]
		
		Festers in me.
		How could so many be so wrong?
		Alas, I'm sure we'll get back to that.
		What about you, what are you struggling with?
		Do you ever get haunted?
		Does it scare you?
		
		Do you ever feel you're losing hope?
		Your patience will be tested, but for now, just be here and listen to me: it goes away.
		
		Those feelings go away.
		You will never get stuck in the dark.
		Right now is not the rest of your life. * Tomatoanus influence. * 
		Just let it pass.
		
		-- you --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - Verity

You've Always Been Wonderful
	
		(X)
		
		It's graverot, green gangrene, much like a disease. * Does it still count as a rhyme if the words are spelled differently? *
		This is unwellness.
		I never left the cemetery I led her to leave me in.
		She'll never visit.
		And that haunts me.
		Wellness whispers
		
		And sorrow screams.
		I wanna see you every day: today, tomorrow, next month and next year.
		Always.
		
		I wanna be part of your everyday.
		This moment, and all the rest.
		I was almost Romeo.
		
		I still want to melt into you, to tell you what it's been like.
		I hoped, I prayed, even did tarot.
		What else 
		
		Could I do?
		You linger in me still.
		I let us both down.
		I can't say that, though. 
		The time is past.
		
		It's been so long yet I'm still stuck in the past.
		The you I remember is just a folktale.
		How could I ever have said that to a stranger?
		How could I tell a stranger I loved her?
		I spoke to her.
		
		Yes, I spoke to her, and I still cannot believe it.
		Can you believe it?
		Fourteen long months, twenty miles apart, but an ocean away.
		I confessed my love for her, and I doubt I'll ever see her again.
		I'll never see her again.
		To be honest, I was hoping for a miracle, but no, this was my greatest defeat.
		There's a million things.
		
		There are still a million things I want to say to you, and I'll only get to say that - once -
		
		One thing once.
		It seems I'll have to carry the rest, involuntarily.
		For my ears only.
		
		You told me this would all be better in a few months.
		Who knew I'd be here sixteen months later, writing the eighth song devoted to the absence I feel of you?
		It's laughable.
		
		A cosmic joke. 
		Ha.
		Ha.
		Ha.
		
		* cheeky tasty lead *
		
		Oh darling, you are my 1408. * with John Cusack *
		This shit's like Return Of The Living Dead. * you know, the one where the dead are basically undying? *
		In the afterlife I'll ask you 
		
		In our next lives to do it.
		For real, for life.
		For now I'm resigned to merely wish you the best.
		And I fucking 
		
		Wish for that.
		You're the Universe's greatest work of art.
		I see the light in you, my eyes have undilated. * Too little, too late. *
		You've always been wonderful.
		
		You've always been wonderful.
		Farewell.
		
		-- love. --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - You've Always Been Wonderful

Immure Me Not 
	
		(V)
		
		This is a dead end right now.
		I've finally accepted that the vote was 		
		Cast in silent lots.
		I can't blame them, but I still do.
		Anyway, I did not think it would 
		
		Be so difficult.
		It's not one, it's fuckin' everyone.
		This is what I feared in the first place.
		
		The judges aren't convicting me.
		My faith - my faithlessness proves true.
		
		But at this point, things are what they are.
		The only thing that's changed is now 
		
		I'm trying, and that has to be good enough.
		The worst can only be faced.
		It will be okay, things are 
		
		Gonna be fine.
		I can hunger strike until the judges convict me.
		I'll still strike even after just to spite them.
		I can rebuild this perfect
		
		Home.
		I'll begin again tonight, I swear to you, I'll begin again this very night. * subconscious Purity Ring reference *
		
		When the months are past, when - when the ritual is complete, when I come around, will you finally be 
		
		Waiting?
		I wish I could take you to Albany. * Can't exactly go back to Salem, that might be weird. *
		I hope it takes your breath away.
		
		The scales shall show my fate.
		Thousands have slid by.
		Thousands 
		
		Left to go.
		I can change things.
		I'll change what I can, and accept the rest.
		
		Everyone's eyes are a little fucked up.
		And that's okay: all we can do is change what we can.
		And accept the rest.
		You deserve to accept yourself, but if you don't, I'll accept you.
		
		I wish the Universe would do something mystical * you know, some mumbo jumbo bullshit *
		
		So I didn't have to do it myself.
		But I guess that's part of the game.
		
		I'll begin again, tonight, I swear to you, I'll begin again this very night.
		
		-- are, --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - Immure Me Not

A Scintillation Of The Source 
	
		(I)
		
		You looked perfect in Salem. * The one with the dead witches. *
		That trip lingers, and hurts to the touch; the very thought makes me sick.
		It's a mystery: why does it still bother me?
		
		Undead don't sleep.
		Vampires don't die.
		
		An endless dance of seeking love and finding it, then losing it, and enshrining its corpse, its death shroud.
		More days and more nights; another season, a new epoch.
		But I can't seem to get past the last one.
		
		Have you ever had your heart broken?
		I did not know it'd heal so slow.
		I thought it would go away - away after a year.
		I begin to wonder: does it end?
		
		Tease the hope out of my bitter heart.
		
		Love doth die, but there will be another waiting to bloom.
		The next step in this dance, this game we love.
		You've made it this far, you have to keep playing.
		If you linger, you will be late to your next dance.
		
		I'm sick of ruminating.
		But I still hope so desperately to reverse this course, to dance under the Sun [sic] again unending.
		Does that wish ever go away?
		I wanna leave it and never look back.
		Alas, I've always had a weakness for girls that do tarot.
		
		That which is dead may never die. * Here's hoping for strange aeons. *
		
		I have danced this dance before.
		I have picked up the pieces before, but not like this.
		It still hurts like last December.
		I want to move on, but I fear the worst, I fear a Winter [sic] unending.
		The world's stopped spinning.
		
		-- you --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - A Scintillation Of The Source

An Improper Sendoff 
	
		(VIII)
		
		* mouthwashing beforehand for a clean vocal take *
		
		A traitor at heart.
		A traitor at first.
		Traitors must hold fast tied to the mast.
		Slash the lashings, salvage the vessel, lest your anchor pull you under.
		
		All we need is all we can carry.
		Burdens too great will sink the ship.
		Dead weight will drown you before you reach any shore.
		Can you bear to cast your precious feelings overboard?
		I still miss you.
		
		You set me adrift at sea. 
		You're gonna let the ocean bury me.
		I still miss you.
		You're at the edge of the earth.
		You've shown me salt and gray is all I'll ever be worth.
		
		What would you say to me if one day I make it back alive?
		
		The swells surge and strike in the blink of an eye.
		Lost at sea, swallowed by the storm.
		Astronomical guides have fled from sight.
		I pray, I hope, to keep afloat.		
		You left a wound in me, a specter, a cursed souvenir.
		I've measured months of mourning in the shades of gangrene rotting my facade. * Not just green. *
		
		Sometimes all I can manage to do is sit here and stare into space. * At my empty white walls. *
		Thinking the same thoughts over and over and over. . .
		Praying for sleep, and the relief it may bring.
		I'm disconnected from my own emotions until they flash flood, and pull me under.
		You probably don't even think of me, and I'm a fool for letting your ghost wreak havoc in my mind.
		Over.
		And over.
		And over.
		
		I know what I have, but I cannot think past what I don't.
		
		Can you hear me an ocean away?
		I hate to say, it's only right that I be swept away.
		
		Don't you ever leave the lighthouse on for me.
		Leave me, I know you won't have any trouble with that.
		I will carry these waters with me and gaze fondly.
		While I can't help but reminisce, I recognize I need new shores to miss.
		
		You left a wound in me.
		I find myself sinking over and over.
		You're a ghost forever.
		You probably don't even think of me.
		Don't you ever leave the lighthouse on for me.
		I still miss you so dearly.
		
		I still miss you so dearly.
		I'm still drowning in my memories.
		And you - I still miss you - you're still an ocean away.
		You're a ghost, and it's going to have to be okay.
		Forever.
		
		I still miss you.
		I still miss you so dearly.
		I would sail the seven seas if it'd bring you back to me.
		
		Spill my heart, breathe in the sea.
		I did it to you, do it to me.
		There's sorrow but not animosity.
		I wish you well and better memories.
		Hear the waves, come drown with me.
		I sent myself off erroneously.
		Always sorrow; never animosity.
		I wish you well and better memories.
		
		* post-tracking cleaning *
		
		-- sincerely --

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - An Improper Sendoff

Dead Season Again
	
		(II)
	
		It's cold enough to snow again.
		Winters are not ideal, but they happen.
		The seasons spiral as I spiral.
		
		Days become weeks become months.
		Yesterday becomes today.
		Tomorrow looks like before.
		Quiet sighs of de ja
		
		Vu escape in my empty rooms.
		I guess now is the trough: torpor again.
		
		Vices like vises can pass the hours less motionlessly. 
		It is 
		
		Less difficult to live bestially.
		I can't heed myself when I heed my body.
		Ether is an ally as much as an enemy.
		Is this worth my life?
		
		My breath?
		* Respiration. *
		
		Rumination feels quite like not even living at all.
		The snake coils 'round my wrists: I shall merely just exist.
		
		I just wanted to read a good Sabrina book, write a vampire story,
		
		Run four miles in thirty minutes, and I'd still like to fall in love again.
		
		But I cannot resist the allure of scrutinizing my empty white walls.
		
		If Heaven and Hell are states of mind, why do I think myself into damnation?
		Don't I even at least care enough to pull myself out?
		Do I really care for nothing?
		
		Nothing can be the most enticing thing to exist.
		I don't think this is normal, but I won't avert my stare.
		For days, for weeks, I'll wait and hope, sleep and pray that eventually it relaxes its grip on me.
		
		I just wanted to write at least one good album.
		Get a hit of dopamine.
		
		-- Whoever --

FFO: State Faults, Comeback Kid, Turnstile, Spiritbox, Loathe, The Contortionist, Refused, AFI, The Black Dahlia Murder, The Blood Brothers, SeeYouSpaceCowboy, Portrayal of Guilt, Chat Pile, Knocked Loose, At the Drive-In, Scowl

Kassiopeia - The Redacted Plutonian Packet - Dead Season Again

Melodic hardcore urgency meets emotional post-hardcore chaos and atmospheric metalcore. Heavy, expressive, and cathartic.

FFO: State Faults, Comeback Kid, Turnstile, Loathe, Spiritbox, The Contortionist, Refused, AFI, The Black Dahlia Murder, Portrayal of Guilt, Chat Pile.

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