AND YOU'RE DEAD, FUCKING DEAD & WE'RE HUNGRY

The plot in you

Vol. 3

Been Here Before

Antibloom

Don't Let Me Get Too Low

[Verse 1]
You think you know me
But you don't see the rage
Building up inside
Ready to break free from this cage

[Verse 2]
Every day I feel it growing
This anger in my chest
Your lies keep fucking flowing
Put my patience to the test
I'm done with all your bullshit games
You think you own my soul
But I'll burn down all your fake claims
And take back my control

[Chorus]
I am the blood hammer
Crushing down on you
I am the blood hammer
Breaking right through
Nothing left to lose now
Nothing left to prove
I am the blood hammer
And I'm coming for you

[Verse 3]
You pushed me past the breaking point
Now watch me come alive
Your words can't hurt me anymore
I'm done just trying to survive
The fire burns inside my veins
I feel the power rise
You'll never hold me down again
I see through all your lies

[Chorus]
I am the blood hammer
Crushing down on you
I am the blood hammer
Breaking right through
Nothing left to lose now
Nothing left to prove
I am the blood hammer
And I'm coming for you

[Solo]

[Bridge]
You made me this way
Now you're gonna pay
There's no turning back
I'm on the attack

[Final Chorus]
I am the blood hammer
Crushing down on you
I am the blood hammer
Breaking right through
Nothing left to lose now
Nothing left to prove
I am the blood hammer
And I'm coming for you
I'm coming for you
I'm coming for you

Blood Hammer

Damned

This is not just a poetry album.
It’s a song-heart, a cry of life refusing to die in the silence of collective indifference.

Each piece here is not art for art’s sake,
but an act of survival, a fight to remain oneself
in a world that constantly demands compromise.

Every line is a breath.
Every word — a reaching out for something truly alive,
without bargaining away its truth.

This is the birth of a new style.

A style where genre doesn’t matter —
metal, electronica, jazz, lo-fi, acoustic —
the music is just a container.
A vessel for meaning, built to reach another human
as real and raw as the one who created it.

This style is called:

Extremely High Sense Capacity
(E.H.S.C.)

It’s not about form — it’s about depth.
Music that carries.
Poetry that must be heard.

And it’s also an act of dismantling borders.

Borders between people. Between cultures. Between traditions and fears.
It’s a gesture of unification.
An attempt to bring back the feeling of being human.
To restore humanness as the center of the universe —
as the thing that binds it all together.

A Song About Myself

The Plot In You

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