I Would Set Myself On Fire For You - Clayton

her breath on glass - we were never innocents

She Died Real Pretty - Requested Anathesthia

Demo 2001

It's Best to Turn Around Now

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Lion Of The North - Running With Wolves

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There’s Only Two Things Certain In Life, Death And Taxis?

Memories Don’t Mean That Much To Me

From 1972andesflightdisaster split

(Lyrics)

One day this will all end we'll go back to our middle wage jobs and count as the seconds become years, write poems about what could have been and throw pennies in the shopping malls fountain and can't help but wish the tiles beneath our feet become the ledge we cast ourselves off in pursuit of a solution to our problems, birds singing just to hear them selves speak over the sound of scripture and funeral playlist, caskets lowered to the beat of our relatives hearts and fireflies fill the new graves sky
Paint peeling from the decay of abandoned houses
Dust builds on shelves that use to be filled Screams of joy and pain still echo the empty halls
And sights of folks that use to walk on these floors are rumored to be seen

Paint peeling from the decay of abandoned houses
Dust builds on shelves that use to be filled Screams of joy and pain still echo the empty halls
And sights of folks that use to walk on these floors are rumored to be seen
It hurts To be
Out of body
And no one can see you Or hear your voice
We choose the love think we deserve but settling for less has left scars and im not afraid of the dark but im afraid of fucking up or missing the path i should have taken even if the other one is faster everyone says i have a whole life ahead of me but the tunnel looks shorter and shorter the more i think about it and the more i dream about it and i might as well hammer a nail into the coffin and call it a day
Death seems like a safe route
And I'll fantasize about it till im gone

All my wishes were thrown down a well and should die there - scary stories to tell in the dark

This is part 1 of my tribute to Metallica. 

Fade To Black (Cover)

“Gather close, and let the embers speak. For this is no tale of kings and crowns — this is the saga of fire, oath, and blood. This is the song of the last skald, and the flame that refused to die.”

In the twilight of the old world, when the fjords whispered of gods and ghosts, a warband rose beneath the dawn. Their oaths were carved in stone, their names etched in frost. The saga begins with “Oathbound at Dawn,” where warriors swear loyalty not by word, but by fire — a ritual of steel and spirit beneath the rising sun.

From the shadows of the fjord comes “The Wolf and the Fjord,” a tale of cunning and survival. The warband moves like smoke, striking with the silence of beasts. Then the drums thunder in “Hammerfall Rite,” a berserker’s invocation to Thor — the moment before the clash, where rage becomes ritual and the sky splits with fury.

But war is not only steel. In “Seidr’s Veil,” the warriors kneel before the völva, the seer who chants in tongues older than time. She shows them fate — not as prophecy, but as consequence. And then the clash: “Blood on the Ice” erupts with chaos, where shields splinter and the fjord runs red. Victory is won, but not without cost.

The ravens arrive in “The Raven’s Feast,” circling the dead with solemn grace. They do not mourn — they honor. The battlefield is silent, save for the wind and the wings. And then the myth deepens in “Stone of the Nine Worlds,” where the skald walks through realms of fire, frost, death, and dream. Each world speaks, each stone remembers.

Now the skald stands alone in “Skald of the Last Flame,” the titular track. He sings not for glory, but for memory — the last voice of a vanished warband, the final ember of a forgotten age. The longship burns in “Ashes of the Longship,” a funeral voyage across the sea, where names are whispered into the tide.

But the saga does not end. In “Echoes in the Hall of Shields,” the voices of the fallen rise in chorus. Their shields line the walls of the honored hall, and their names thunder through eternity. Yet even this is not the final flame.

A new chapter begins with “Where the Chief Fell, the Flame Rises.” The warband’s leader is gone, lost to legend. But his fire lives on. The Son steps forward in “The Son Who Bears the Ember,” uncertain but resolute, carrying the weight of legacy in trembling hands.

He learns the truth in “Peace Is a Lie.” The world does not honor restraint — it devours it. The Son casts aside hope and embraces fire. But in “Ashes of the First Command,” he learns that war is never clean. The cost of leadership is written in blood.

And finally, he rises in “The Flame That Does Not Bow.” No longer a child, no longer a warlord — he is the flame itself. Not wild, not broken, but eternal. He walks not for vengeance, but for truth. The saga ends not in silence, but in fire.

“So remember this, you who listen by the hearth: the skald may fall, the chief may fade, but the flame marches on. And in every oath, in every name, in every echo — the saga lives.”

The Flame That Does Not Bow

I Have Dreams - In Good Hands

https://www.instagram.com/satellitecrash/

https://www.discogs.com/user/nickdurazo/collection?header=1

I Would Set Myself On Fire For You - Clayton

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