The first demo from progressive metal band, holo.

The Alchemist

The Alchemist (Demo)

The congealed blood
scabs painfully round
the distended neck 
of the populace. 

Meat farmed on demand
Is the long and short of our part in this plot.
Self-actualising end, cogs in the machine.

Trapped in the bars of time and space
A tesseract dimensionless in universal fate.

An unnatural docile life ending uncharacteristically violently 
choking on our own fucking blood
As severed jugulars come undone and distend 
sprawled out prostrate upon a gambrel. 

The congealed blood
scabs painfully round
the distended neck 
of the mutilated populace.
A world not even Dante (envisioned).

Meat farmed on demand
Is the long and short of our part in this plot.
Self-actualising end, cogs in the machine.

Trapped in life as it exists
Prisoners to cages we help erect.

Catechism of social media dictates:
"Egoism outshine morality" but that's just the dogma of this democracy.

In this horse eat horse world
Cow cannibalise calf
4000 years of carrion
Sparrow feast on falcon heart

Hooks hang from necks
Calves sold to death
Rats meandering in straight lines
Rats rushing in droves to die

Recorded by: Mike Laurie from Orange Tin Studios at Legacy School of Music
Artwork by: Ender

Connect with us on:
- Website: https://www.weareholo.com
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/holoband/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/weareholo/
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/weareholo
- YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRtS...
- SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/weareholo

Holo

Gambrel

✠ Holo - Curtailed Conjecture ✠

Connect with us on: 
• Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/holoband/
• Bandcamp: http://www.weareholo.bandcamp.com
• Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/weareholo
• Website: www.weareholo.com

Mixed and mastered by the talented Heinrich Köllner from Burning Tones Studios

Lyrics:
Push back, release the grip (of) the scourge of nine lashes, twisted over your wrists.
Pull out, uproot every strand of the mesh of lies impaled across your mind.

All you’ve known and all you’ve held true; the pillars of your reality dissolve into obscurity.
Denial of what once was profane is now a derisive, vindictive pain.

I’ve tossed off the blindfold and clawed myself out of the mould cast for me, eyes burning.
One set of footprints carried this empty rhetoric.
I look back and behold the impossible truths, the lore invoked where the empirical ended.
Conscripted service, omnipotently injust;
How is this truth setting you free?

The Ghost of Mirach tells us what unfolded
10 million years before as echoed by the mountains.
Conjecture curtailed, dogma dispelled
We cannot plead extended ignorance.

So I set a new path, a path of my own.
Solarised truth, basal absolution.

Two hands in action can do more than a thousand clasped in supplication.

I’ve been set in motion and cannot be stopped.

Now is all you will ever have.

Boil the goat in its mother’s milk
I am Typhon victorious,
I am God.