It sure can.
This body still has some post-death jiggle in'em.
Nerves twitching with residual bioelectric boogaloo; I'm a marionette to the rhythm.
A real last dance.

See them.
See me.

You're free to let go now.

Track from album: https://lapse.bandcamp.com/album/a-cure-for-consciousness
💰💰💰💰

CONSUME

This Corpse Can Dance(({  {[[ [ album out ] ]]} } ))

Please do not spam my account with reposts. A Part of @musicmondayweb @Webgurlmedia FOR DARKWAVE, WitchHouse, DRAG, SLOWED, THROWED, GOTH, GRAVER, POST PUNK, DANSE MACABRE, REMIXES, BEATS, MIXTAPES
 
✞✞✞ WITCHHOUSE 4 EVER✞✞✞

Lyrics:
CVL† SH‡† - ßƟD¥ ßΔGƵ
You’ll never understand until you’ve been there.
Been down so much, that all you can manage to do now is sit there.
Thinking back at all the choices that you made to get there.
Pumping a fist to the sky telling god “it ain’t fair.”
But yo, we ain’t there.
How could it be with all this devastation and desperation surrounding me.
So put me in the ground ‘cause this life has just been pounded out of me,
The only reason I ain’t sleeping now ‘cause I got mouths to feed.
Why can’t I catch a break?
Why can’t I step away and wake up one morning and think that things wont be a mess today.
I gotta break the cycle somehow,
Sick of this pain, I'm sick of living this way.
Okay, I’m done now.
Not having fun now, there’s just so many reasons.
Feel as if my soul’s a broken puzzle and I’m missing pieces.
It’s real easy for you to judge them when you see them,
But you’ll never truly understand unless you’ve ever been there.
A place where hope was thin in the air.
If things are gonna get better tell me a ‘when’ and a ‘where’.
Sitting and staring in the mirror, nobody’s there,
That I know, feeling so alone and I’m scared that nobody cares.
My nights consist of so many prayers.
I once had so many dreams, I once was going somewhere.
Try and following steps before you start to compare,
Me to you and you don’t know me, now you think that that’s fair?
I never thought my path would lead me to the point I’m at now.
But before they get up, some people gotta fall down.
Some fall harder than others, they thought they had it all down.
Me, I take these experience and jot them all down.
But how do you cope when you think that hope is nowhere around?
How do you know where to go if you haven’t been found?
Yo, I’m saying it’s draining living this pain that I’m in.
You’re quick to judge me but you haven’t been the places I’ve been, c’mon.
You’ll never understand until you’ve been there.
Been down so much, that all you can manage to do now is sit there.
Thinking back at all the choices that you made to get there.
Pumping a fist to the sky telling god “it ain’t fair.”
But yo, we ain’t there.
How could it be with all this devastation and desperation surrounding me.
So put me in the ground ‘cause this life has just been pounded out of me,
The only reason I ain’t sleeping now ‘cause I got mouths to feed.
Why can’t I catch a break?
Why can’t I step away and wake up one morning and think that things wont be a mess today.
I gotta break the cycle somehow,
Sick of this pain, I'm sick of living this way.
Okay, I’m done now.
Not having fun now, there’s just so many reasons.
Feel as if my soul’s a broken puzzle and I’m missing pieces.
It’s real easy for you to judge them when you see them,
But you’ll never truly understand unless you’ve ever been there.

Among the mondegreens,
deep in chronocrypsis,
a remedy for time.
Among the mondegreens,
deep in chronocrypsis,
a remedy for time.
Among the mondegreens,
ď̖ë̖ep̢̀ ǐ̞n ch̥͋r̫̃onoc̡͞ry̙͐ps̩͒is̮̅,̡͞
̮̂a ͇̓rem͍̒edy ̱͝foȓ̲ ̡̏t̆͟i͛ͅm̛̹e.͔͒
Ḁ̕mong̝͠ ̪̈t̙̊he ̪͘mond̟͞e͉͞gr͔͡een͙͒s,̞́
deep i̪͌ṇ͌ ̲̚cḧ̘́r̫̐o̘̅nocr͂͜y͍͠ṕ̹si̳̒ș̏,̧̉
a̲͂ rem̭͡e̯͆d̛̥y ̖̀f͖͛o̱̚r tḯ͕ḿ̟e.̫́
Among̨̔ th͔͗ẻ̜ ̞͆m̘̕o̞̿n͖̓d̥͐ẹ̃g̦͆ree̽͢nś̹,̡͞
d̗͊eep̧͆ ̹͠i̖͡n ͕͛c̊͜hrô̧ń̗o͈͌c̀͜ryp̗͊sis͞ͅ,̂͜
a r̦̈́em̲̀ed̜̔y for ͍̒ti̝̚m̩̓e̘͘.͙̀
͈͒A͇͠m͈̰̿̊o̡̎n̬̐g̙͈̊͐ ̧͎̇̏t͚̊͑͟he̛͉ ̜̓mọ͎̉́n̛̯̖̊ḓ̖͛͠e̐͜g̜͐r̘̆͢͝e͑ͅe̢̋n̻̅s̻͒,̚ͅ
̟̀̋͜de̹̫̐̃eṕ̻ ͉̽i͔̔n̼̗͂͠ ̱͑͟͞ch̼̓̒͢ŕ̪ồ̼͇n̦̙̏̎ocr̢̾yps̛̗i̳͒̽ͅs̥̕,̛̞
̗̆a̛̟ ͍̌r̰͇͘͞emed̰͐ý̩͔͌ ̧̻̐̾f͍̼̍̋ō̧̜̚r ̥̇ti̟̦̋̕m͇̭̄̀e͚͑.͈͘
̮͂A͙̋moǹ̺͓͘g̖̟̃͞ ̦̙̄̾t̻̃̐ͅh͔͇͋̈́e ̜̀̽͟m̨͝o̦̖͂̑ṇ̽d̠͛egr̡͊e̫͞ę̛̙̽ǹ̻s͍̋,̦̊
̳͠de͢͡e͌͜p ̻̮́̒i̻͡n̫̙͑̄ c͖͌͠ͅh̼̥͒͛r̡̉on̡̯͂͒oc̡̠̏̌r̬̄y͈̚p̲͍̿͛si̧̎s,̩́
͍͝a̤͚͞͠ ͓̀r̈́͟e͇͗m̗͒ed͇̃y ̹̝́͠f͇̀o̎͟r̖͌ ̛̖̞͠t̞͌i͇̅me̡̚.
A̤̒mŏ͔n͚̅g͍͗ ͍͗t̝̾he mọ͞n̢͋d͉͂e̥͡g̬͐r̲̹̓̐e̅͟e̟̍n̻͖͊͡s͕̦͛̈,
d̡͚̕͝è̫̥͆e̪̚p ̪̓i̦͛̄͟ň̰͖̋ c͌͟ẖ͛ȑ̙̘͠ȏ͉̙́n̟̫̅̐ȯ͜c̺̋r͙̉yp̩̝̒̇s͂ͅi̺̦̒̇s̪͐,̖̅
͚̒à͇ r͋̃͜ͅeṃ̢̓͌é̲̼̎d̜̽y͈͗ ͖̠̏͠f̡͘o̠̊r ͍̌t̢͍̏͆im̬͍̽͞e̙͘.͎̀̚͢
̼̰͊̆A̯̜͂͡m̨̛̤͞õ̢̌ͅn̢̟͐̈g̮̈ ̣͔̌̅t̳̽͘͟h͓̉e̲͕̾͗ ͙̲́͗m̱̈on̰̿dè͙gr͓͂ee̡͆n̡̯̽̕ś̟̑͟,
̙́̾͟deȅ̝p̨̰͂̽ ̧͑in̪̜͌́ ̢̙́͠c̫͐h̬̳̊̆ro̼̐n͍̄̚͜o̗̿cry͙͡p̫̰͛̈́s͔͗ȉ̢̖̈s͕̒,̹̟͑͑
̧̲̎͊a rem̱͈̍̓ê̢̖͠dy̯̖̍̒ ̺̰̆̐f͎̎o͈͝r͓͆ ̛͕̌͜t̹̚i͙͆m̞͆e.
̭̀Ä͈m̳̝̩̟̒̎͒͛ȯ̙̞̓n̖͈̩͋̑͘g̢̨̝̜̫͉̦̓̆̐͒̌̒̕ ̫͖̘̳̬͛̈́̂̈́͡t̢͙̣͙̿̎̆̃͘ͅḩ̻͖̱̜̫̼͉̙͇́͛̉͛̊̃̽͐̅̕e̦̪̻̿̈͊̀͢ ̧̞͓̝͊͊͑̅m̡͇̹̾̔̍̕͢͢͞ǫ͍̙̘̭̭̞̯̏̌̃̋̎͂̕̕̚͜͡ͅn̛̤̪̘̫̺͍͌̉̇͆̎d͖̣̣̟̹̮̎̑͐̐͆̌͟͝e̘̮̫͓̋͂̕͡g̩̈́͜͠r̡͇̳͙̞̂͗̄̍͡e̹̱͓̙͉̹̟̗̿̂͒̏̋̃͒́ë̖́͟n͍̱͎̥̾̊̄̚š̢̮̦̀͠,͖̪̬͑͒̕
̠̎ḏ̹͚̫͆͋̓̔͡ͅe̖͍͚̙͎̹̋̎͋̃̊̔̃͘͢͟͡ͅḙ̡̹͎͖͉̘͔̹̉̍̆̅̽̈̂͂̎p͎͚̤͂́̌ ̥̳͓̩̪̮̏̆̑̇̏͛̏͢i͕̭͇̺̙͙̐̏̓̍̊̒͘͢n̮̯̯̬͊̈͊̎̑͢ ̛̪͈̥̣͖̬̀̀̔͋̾c̮̘̩̝̒̍́̏̾͢ḩ̧͕̝̥̮͇̳̱̪̞̿̂̈̅͐̃̈̉͂̚̕r̳̺̦̝̻̙͒̇́͌͌̋͘ͅó͔͚̟͙̺̅̑͛͋n̻͚͇̝͕̻̪̞̈́͋͆̓̂͛̏̈̈͑͜͢o̮͍̤͎͐́̀̆c̬̙̜̭͈̥̼̋̓͛̈̒̃̕r̪͓̙̻̣͔̺̫̻͒̓̾̋̀̀͌̎͞ỵ̢͍̖̺͖͇͋̐̑͆̉̕͜͡͝p̧̟͕͛̍̕s̨͉̩̝͈͔̗͉̑́͛̂̾͑̓̅i̻̐̋͟s,̱͉͓̹̫̙͓͉͗̆́͌͊́́́͘͜
̛̝̦̱̼̲͓͔̪̹̤͚͆̏̔̐̌̽͊̀͂̂ȁ̡̛̭̘̝͈͒͆͌ ̧͖̙͎̣̩̠͍̩͊̃͌͆̊̍̏̏̑r̩̖̝̦̺̔̎̋̓̃e̱͔͔̰̰͆̄̃͛̌m̛̦̤̫͈͚͍͗̈̐͑͂é̮̬͓̼̤̊̈́̿̀̏͟d̛̻̲̩̔͂y̡̧̘̺̟̯͔̿͆̋̃̕̕͡ ̧̣̼̻̑̆͘͘f̫̯͖̻̱͕̙͇͊̑̾̀̅̂̿͜͝͡o̡̼͙̦̝͇̍̓͊͑̀̂r͎͂ ̢̗͙̯͋͋͡͡ţ̗͔̻̞̮̼̘̀̔̋͐͐̀̄͘̕͟͜͞͠ͅḭ̧̩͚̹͉̬͖͍̹̐̀̌͐͋͒́͘͠͡ḿ̙̫͙̭̯̣̺̈̄͊͌̾͝e̢̒.̨̨̮͙̦͖̘͋͊̋̀̄̓̚
̼̮͓͉̪̩̦̪̐̓͗̾̍͒̂͋̇͟͢͞A̱̝̯͒̾̄ḿ̛̞̭̻̘̙̜͈͙͉̼͇͗͒̍͒͂̑͆͌͞ǫ̧̪̭̲̽͌́͗̅n͕͆g͗͢ ̡̟̩̹͍̗͈͗̍͗̑͋͐̚͡ͅt̤͙͚͔̖͇͔͂͊̂͗͘̚͝ḩ̢̖̠̩̠͇̘̝̣͚̎̇̽̋͗̋̎́͛͡͡e̦̜͕̺̽̑͛͠ ͉̪̙̭̟͖̃̀́̌͘͘m̡̙̟̤̜̻̉̅̄̒̎̓̚͡ͅͅơ̢͈͚̥͙̼̬̺͊̾̽̂͑̕͘n̬̳̤̋̐̀͘͟d͈̤̟̰̯̻͒̔͛͗̅̆͡ͅe̗̩̅͠g͇͞r̘̂͘͟ë̱̺̬̆͠ȅ̱̞̳̈̋ņ̨͇̜̯̞̰̝̯̞̝͑̃̿̓̀͌͌̿̌̈́͛s̛̭͚̞̰̫̠̭̖̒͌́̈́͌͐̅,͉͇͛̓
͔̓̈́ͅd̫̟̩̹̜̙̠̖͈̿̓̆̋̎̉̏̌͠e̘̫̗̦͙̫͙̖̼̓́̽̈́͋̒́̑͘͡ͅę̛̯̹́͘p̯̞̭̑̍̕ ̛̮͔͚͚͖̽̌̈́̔ī̯ń̫̼͝ ͉͝c̜͂h̖̙̯̬̪̪̾̇̏̐̍̌́͜ṟ̛͇̙̪̲̖͌̀̎̔̕̚͢͠ͅơ̧̮̱̹̯̞͕̠̈́͂̆̉̾̈́̓̿͟n̯͈̼̙̓͌̽͞o͍͐͒̕͢ͅc̙͔͕̗͇̹͔͆́͐́̍͛̿̂͢͟͡ŗ͈̮̗̮̻͉̤̈̓̔̃̊̋̈́̃̚ͅý̩̫̫͔͚̺̠͔͂̈́̈́͛̒͘͠p̧̼̠̬͂̈́̚͞s̲̠̘͖̞̈̈́̋́̒͌͢͜͟͡͝ī̤͕̻͉̤̙͂́͛̒̃̚͢͢͠s̛͕̮͉͙̻̬̋͊̀̐́,͉̖͘͝
̢̰̙̼̳̓̋̔̉̕͞ͅá̳͚̮̟̻̥͈̖̈̈̈͗̅͂͡ ̨̡̯͔̖̠͋͋͌̾̈̌r̜̺̲͑̍͐͟͡é̦̳̟̩̥̘͔̖́́͑̀̒͂͐͞ͅm̡̢̙̪̙̦̳̟̤͊̑̊̌̓̂̔́͞e͍͙̲̩̝̗̱̳̗̍̋͂͋͘͘͠͞͡d̲̪͈͖̰͂̀̿̓͛͠ͅy̥̭͔̟̩̖̪̲̦̮͂͌́͊̌̊̿͐͋͞ ̡̯̥͚̠͚̠̬̂͌̓̂̃̓͞͠f̤̪̟̲͂͛̅̈́̑͢͟͝͠ͅo̹̗͕͗̃͝ŕ̢̧͇̳͗̾̾̚ͅ ̛̝̝̻̱͙͌̊̀̂̌͟͞ͅt̛̩̘̰͓̤̰̭̟̀̓͆͊̆̇̀̀͜͟͡i̳̤͔̳͈͖͈̭̹̔̓̆͌̈̀͞͠͝m͖̮̥̣̞̊̐̈́͌̈́ë̻͓͓̀̿.̢̡̜̝̟͍͚͖̾̀̉͋͂̎̽̓͢͝
̘̠͖͖̩̽̒̎̇͂̓͘͟͜Á͓̯̔m̜͋ơ̟̫͕̊̇̈̀͢͢n̙͔̗̩̋͗͛͆g̠̯̟̥̖̀̈́̅͑̀ ̤̙͕̖̼̈́̐͆̓̈̕͜͟͝th̡̨̝̤͍̆̊̊͗̄̾̕ͅͅe̦̠̲͉͊͒͞͝ ̛͙̱̲͎̣͕̞͒̍͒͆̓̊m̞͈̼̏̍͋́̏͢ͅo͉̦͚̖̖̜̿̇̒͂̾͒́ͅn̟͔̠̰̄͑̓̓d͔̗̹̫͕͕̠̬͉̺̿́̃͋͐̌̾̄́̕͟͝è̱g̢̡̗̱̺̘̞͖̣͇̳͌̐̅͗̾̀̍͌̋͘͡r̺̼͖̄̓͢͞͞e̥̪̝̬̺͇͚͖͗̈́̑͛͂̿̄̂͋ͅe̺̘̭̔̐̆̆͢ṋ̪̼̩̲͖̰̮͍̺͛̅̃̀͆̄̒̏͛̾͟͞s̢̛̫̩͉̘͛̆̈́͋͞ͅ,̖͠
̹̩͇̣̜̏̂́͌̔dȩ͕͈͈̫̱́̔͂̾͝͝e̢̦͈̲̫̞̺̗͋͌͋̓̈́͐̄͞p͈̠͙̊̓͝ ̡̩͋̀͟͝ï̢̛̭̱̬̲͓̦͗̄͌̆̀n̹͖̫̎̋͆͊ͅ ̗̯̙̠̲̲͖̭̥̭̐͋̽̅͊̅́̕̚͞c̝͚̞̟̝̟̞̫͗́̅̆͒́̎̋̀͟͡ͅh̨̄r̼̙̖̫͙̲̓̈̏̈́́̎̀͜o͓͖͈̪̣̦̽̈̍̒͒̀͢͞n̨̡̰͐͑͞ō̡͎͚̟͚̟͖̿́̃̓͑̐͘͟c̡͚̫̙͂̂̋̋̆ͅṙ̨̢̩̪̠̆̇̾͌y͓̭̩͂̀͘p̛̫͓̹̳̏̚͝s̺̞̺̹͈̭͎̟͔̘̄̐̈́͊̿̑̕͘͢͝͞ĭ̡̡̮͙̙̙̙͖͌̽̾̑̄͋͊͘͢͜͠͠ͅs,̥̭̮̭̐́̅͠
̨͈͇͔̩͙̫̰̈́̀͋̾̆͂̃̊͟͡a̛̮̣̗̭̙̩̓̌̓̇̏̔ͅ ̡͍̜̾͊̓ŗ̨̲̭͎̦̦̫̏̌͊̏͋͝͞͝ę̼̎̔m͚̹̫̪̑̓́͞ĕ̠͓̙̀͐dy̡͔̗͚͆͂̍͞ ̛͕̫̇f̨̙̙̘̝̩͓͖̏̈́̀́̈́̀̓͘ȫ̳̙̻͙͎͓͎͉̞̫͙̐͌͌́͋̏̈́̒r̮̙̰̝̠̳͆̔͆̆͗͠ ̤̯͕̞̾̈̇͝ṭ̥̯̳͈̳̠̭̅̌́̉̍̊̅̕i̛̹̩̹̠͖͓̼̖̒̊́͊͊̇͝m̙̻͂̿ẹ̺̙̀̆͛͝ͅ.̧͇͈̤̫̙͒͛̑̒̏͠
R̴e̸p̸e̵t̶i̶t̶i̴o̷n̷s̸ ̷f̷r̷o̴m̸ ̷t̶h̶e̸ ̶v̸o̷i̶d̷.̸
̴C̸o̸n̵s̵u̸m̵e̵ ̸m̶e̴.̶
̵I̷ ̴a̵m̸ ̴a̵ ̵p̴r̵o̵d̶u̵c̴t̸.̵
We're only temporary.
Hold me in your ears.
Barley here...
dear Listener,
You make me feel useful.

This Corpse Can Dance(({ {[[ [ album out ] ]]} } ))

╚ʌᴾഽ⋿