Intro

Allow the flame to pull you in…


Hook:

Umbra shadow torso...foretold...secrets of the beast in ether...mix the death of you in a cauldron...allow the flame to pull you in…

Feed the thought of me...to the mouth of the thing within the mixture….
Reach your hand over your head...a cut the string that bind us all…

Verse1:

Allow your soul to fall asleep…
Your human becomes obsolete….
Thoughts flutter from a mental keep…
Into the air for one to seek.…
Captured by a mind in grief….
Dissolving everything in need ... 
Stick and stones...replace your bones...

The binding is a piece of me…. 

Bark at the howling….
Craft docked in the heart…
Alas it fell apart…
Before the fire could start…
Rebuild it with mistakes…
Perfect a different view to watch it fall... 
Embrace your inner-child...it’s hunted by an earthly god..

Now I could feed a star to the void and watch it shine on...and be itself…
...the second when darkness falls...I put my light out...and feed my hell…
Similar but the mind is broken..get ahead by chopping it off…
Breath life into this rusty trumpet...kill the ones that hear its song...
Fear Me? Nah Fear you…
Your weakest link in self..
Practice pulling your shadow…
N Watch it unravel as the light prevails…
Can’t believe this isn’t me…
A mind spellbound by history…
Deep sweep my memory…
Cleansing out the falseness of my birth in all…



Hook:

Umbra shadow torso...foretold...secrets of the beast in ether...mix the death of you in a cauldron...allow the flame to pull you in…

Feed the thought of me...to the mouth of the thing within the mixture….
Reach your hand over your head...to cut the string that bind us all…

Leaking from your innocence...preserve your strength in clouds...
Caste your thoughts to images...in waves of unheard sounds…
Recharge your spark...by feeling life…
Use dark to see your guiding light…
Redeem your head… when finding peace...
Be still...to hear the call...

Unleash...the child god...
Beneath...the fallen stars....
Indeed...we’ve traveled far…
To lead...with halos on…

Show the path with action...movements ripple through the universe…
Settles in a collective fractal...to be assembled by the next at birth…

Whispers from the cistern...be fluid in a hollow world...
Filter out the sediments flowing out the gates of a modern hell...
Battered pure to be secure…
Unthink your brain....and leave the earth…
Bestow your breath to purpose…
shed the skin...n bathe in the rays of a gamma burst…
Shackles are illusions…
Familiar with the faceless..
Nodding out of confusion…
Embracing man-made illusions...
Learn to hold yourself up front…
Confront the thought that doesn’t belong…
Then pierce it out your being…
Speak your wisdom from your phantom tongue...


StapleMouth - Cauldron Speaks prod. Rezult

From Morning To Mourning- StapleMouth Prod. Rev. Leftdover

verse1 

Out from the opened...
the silence shattered into chirps...
words traveled through walls...
as the sun was exhumed from the dirt...
a man's eye-lids tore a dream...
that flickered behind his forehead...
gazing at the ceiling in attempts to recapture the images fading...away...lost...
his friable feet chipped a little more as it touched the ground...
sweeping each footprint...
brittle since pawning his smile for an incessant frown..
calenders crossed out...a year in advance...
rhapsody rant...
frail self-esteem...
clouds of mold stagger with a flick of his hands...
with his face cradled in his lap..
whispering...
"these aren't mine.....this is yours"
clenching his chest....
with his eyes rolled back...
in a search for himself...
pissing through his discarded halo...
plopped in the middle of an augean stable...
twitching next to an empty bottle spinning under his auburn table..
"each breath is useless..."
he mumbled as he walked toward a mirror...
"my life was fruitless"
he yelled...witnessing his glass image shatter
shivering under the heat...
grinning at his reflection in a shard of mirror he used to slit his wrist...
with tears of joy...
diluting his bloody bliss...
"For this Life...I will die"

Chorus:
Awoke to a morning to mourn....from morning to mourn
a rude sun...interrupted my peaceful sleep...
Awoke to a morning to mourn....
when will the blanket of clouds smother the fire in the sky...














Verse 2

In after a closing...
the gaudy workaholic...was strapped at home...
with the alcohal causing her veins to foam...
Her pupils resembled a crescent moon...
distorted by the reflection it casted...
as the classifieds basterdized her past experiences in bold print...
scratching herself..."i wont start from this"
crumpling her sheet of options...
which befriended a pink slip that reaked of her eye-lids...
in a little garbage pail neslted her past and present...
with a future that is now forbidden to be questioned...
to only exist if she can cope with another beginning...
"this rat race is just a mouse trap"
she giggled at her memories...-
wondering who cashed in on the time she spent building...
a company with no-windows...
dollar signs floating on the other end of a peephole...
where the money was spindled...
by faceless mothers...that are forced to leave a child home alone…
She reached into a shoebox that contained the final piece to her puzzle...
It was considered her knight in shining armor...
A warning was kindled…
She prayed in a mumble…
Licked her lips…
As she pulled it’s cock out…
Fondled it for a little
Until it hammered it’s load through the roof of her hungry mouth…

Chorus:
Awoke to a morning to mourn....from morning to mourning
a rude sun...interrupted my peaceful sleep...
Awoke to a morning to mourn....
when will the blanket of clouds smother the fire in the sky...

I'm still mourning...
the red star-rising...
from the horizon...
comes the beast of the morning...
 
Alive...as just a figure of speech...or the lack of...
these events...are considered to be normal...
on a planet filled with light and dark...
I praise the child-like spirits...
that decided to brave the fire...
that charrs one's outlook of a city made of silver...
Built on a golden pyre....
This ONE is for you...love….

sticks and stones...my replace these bones...



StapleMouth - Mourning By Morning

amen - 777 ft. david math & staplemouth Prod. sseleman

Co-Founder of the Proliteariots collective in the late 90s; StapleMouth is a recognized voice in various art communities around the world. Known for his surrealist poetry, gnostic ideology and light-heartedly sarcastic personality; Staplemouth packages his thoughts and delivers them in the form of complicated vocal patterns and simple melodies. 

StapleMouth recently resurfaced as a "Key" member of Cane Corso, a worldwide network of artists and musicians. 

StapleMouth could be found as a solo artists, or in the groups: 3SunzEclipse, Tree Dusk Muir, New Cocoon, Plague Language and as KillWendigo in Mycelium Culture. 

StapleMouth

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