not for Mother

“Take Me Away” is an unapologetic anthem for anyone who's ever felt trapped in the monotony of a world that feels like it’s already dead, yet everyone keeps pretending it’s alive. With raw, unfiltered emotion, this track is a rebellion against the facades we put up, the systems that grind us down, and the emptiness that fills our days. The narrator expresses a deep yearning for escape—begging the aliens to take them far away from a world full of fake smiles, empty chatter, and soul-crushing conformity.

The lyrics cut through the noise of everyday life, offering a cathartic release from the constant pressure to "fit in" or "move on." The chorus echoes a desperate plea to be taken away to something real—anywhere, as long as it's a place free from the suffocating confines of this world.

With its intense energy and biting honesty, “Take Me (Aliens)” speaks to anyone who's felt like they don't belong, anyone who’s tired of pretending, and anyone who's ready to break free from the illusions we live under. It’s not just a song; it’s a cry for freedom, for authenticity, and for something beyond the chaos.

If you’ve ever wanted to scream, “Take me far away,” this track is for you.

Take Me Away

Talk Back...Ya Get SMACKED!

In shadows they crawl,
Life taken by thrall,
Pierced through the soul,
Lost in the sprawl.
In darkness they sing,
The pain that they bring,
Echoes betray,
Through chaos we cling.

Screams in the night,
Hollowed and bright,

ingersoll

Scream the Night

There are songs you hear. There are songs you sing. And then there are songs like “Insert Track Four Here”—songs that hear you back.

A hypnotic, slow-burning descent into the uncanny, “Insert Track Four Here” isn’t just a track—it’s a meta-sonic experience. The fourth track on an otherwise unnamed record, it emerges like a ghost file you weren’t meant to find. From the opening verse—a hushed confession scrawled across the walls of a dream—it beckons listeners into a haunting spiral of self-erasure and creative possession.

    “I opened my mouth— / And the song sang me too.”

The pre-chorus floats like a memory you forgot to have: ghostly vocals layered like breath on glass, asking questions no answer could comfort. And then the chorus hits—big, cinematic, addictive, the kind that echoes long after the speakers have fallen silent. It's a hook designed to be remembered... or maybe to remember you.

Sonically, the song is a shape-shifter. It grows more urgent with every verse: glitching rhythms, reversed whispers, and a pulsing undercurrent of dread that builds to a bridge where chaos and control become indistinguishable. Time fractures. Sounds reverse. The melody becomes a mirror—and you’re not sure who’s looking back.

And then comes that line:

    “Maybe I was the song.”
    Delivered with eerie clarity, it’s not a climax—it’s a surrender.

By the end, you’ve been unwound, rewritten, rethreaded. The final chorus rises like a possessed choir, triumphant and terrifying all at once. It doesn’t resolve. It doesn’t end. It listens.

And when silence finally returns… it feels staged. Like it’s waiting. Like the song is still in the room.

“Insert Track Four Here” is a concept piece disguised as a haunting alt ballad. It’s for fans of artists like Radiohead, Chelsea Wolfe, Nine Inch Nails, or Lingua Ignota—those who crave sound that scratches at the walls between reality and art, between listener and voice.

Play it once, and you’ll be humming it in your dreams.

Play it twice… and it might start humming you.

Insert Track Four Here

Crushed oats in the bowl, I
Stirring in the chaos now
Raisin warriors marching
With a sweet, deadly vow
Mixing all the darkness
In this recipe for doom
An infernal blend
That'll shatter your tomb
(Like)
Baking in the shadows,
Searing heat, let it rise
Savory destruction,
No escape from the guise
Chocolate chips and madness,
Melting into the strife
A cookie born of fire,
Taking all of your life

Oatmeal raisin, chaos unbound
Bake ‘em up, let 'em astound  
Crushing souls with every bite
Feel the wrath, feel the might

Crushed shells of sweet sorrow
Crumbling under the weight
Spices dance like shadows,
In the furnace of fate
Inferno in the cookie,
Whispers in the dark
Every bite, a grim echo,
Leaving its mark
(Like)
Crispy edges, the taste of dread
No escape from this flavor
With a vengeance, it’s said
Raisin armies attacking,
Doom upon your plate
Come and taste the madness,
There's no turning back from fate

ingersoll

Insert Track Four Here

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