Part 1 (unmastered version)

by Terminator 2

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06:11
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05:26
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03:50
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02:33
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05:45
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straight to 2 track tape. recorded in a storage unit. the tour van was the control room. original self-release mastered from digital rip by Greg Dixon. Handmade Birds edition remastered by Matt Barnhart from the original 1/2" reels at Echolab.

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released March 12, 2012

recorded by Justin Lemons
mastered by Greg Dixon

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Terminator 2 Denton, Texas

The sound of the Human Machine shutting down forever. Sludge filled brutality.
Noisy Doom Sludge from Denton TX

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Track Name: Hollow Earth
Prepare, all who dare, to journey down south. Get on board the southern lord. The ship sails to the mouth of the hole at the pole. Should the tale hold its worth. In the end, we’ll descend through the ass of the earth. Through the sea. Through the ice. Through the crust of the earth. Eight hundred miles into the empty abyss to explore. The sky is the mantle, the sun is the core. We’ve arrived on the shore. In this land, temples stand; altars eight hundred feet. House of god, long since gone. Signs of ancient elite. All that remains are the words; protecting the earth. We must leave and return so others may learn of the race from the past; of the gods who have left. Eight hundred miles into the empty abyss to explore. Warmth is a hypodermic delusion. We’ve arrived on the shore.
Track Name: Methodic & Serpentine
Look closely. Observe me in detail, my structure. With purpose in movement, methodic and serpentine. Sweet mother’s hand up the mountain stand. Temporal vessels left. Architecture of death. Conspire against me. Smear campaign of libel. History is written on torn pages from bibles in flames.
Track Name: No Teeth
Gather food and hunt game. Seasonal change determines my home. Follow the herd and set up camp. Horseback on the russian steppe. Migration pattern. Open plain spread forth as far as the eye can see, the horizon. A ruling class of priest kings with religion. A new population with agrarian ways encroaching faster. I have no food to eat. The rising sun on a brand new city, sedentary and monotheistic. Specialized division of labor all controlled by the smallest percentage. Worship harder. Food supply stretched thin. Nothing to eat and no room to breathe. Overfarming has depleted the land. Nutrient deficiencies are rampant again. Starvation pattern. I have no teeth to eat. Sleep. Keep dreaming. Don’t wake up.
Track Name: I Am God
I am god. I am you in disguise, delusions and lies. False hope, a dwindling light, a tightening rope. When you will die, and you will die, I know nothing will stop. You see the face. You see the eyes are blank, sunken back, blind. Fear god. Fear the way and the light. Leave me behind. I am god and I have written a song, a song for the blind. What was it worth. What was it worth. Your dark hell is burning bright. Open your eyes. Open your eyes that I might take your sight. I am god and my children live on. Your children will die. The light is gone, but the rope is untied. I untied the knot. You’re not absolved. You’re not forgiven for the greed, lust, pride, wrath. Am I your god? Is there a doubt? My love is a light that will always burn out.
Track Name: Ancestralcide
Murder the race. Murder the concept of babylon’s past of deceit. Destroy the foundation upon which is seated a structural schism ingrained is erased. Myth of creation. Dead ancient language. Superior alien race descended from heaven, confusing the masses into a turbulent state. Enter police. Murder the masters. Perish the thought that man is the master race. Nothing is sacred, nowhere is safe. Nobody’s god is a saint of the earth. Slave to traditional ancestral worship. Order the dogs to obey. Self-proclaimed savior imagines a spaceship sent as a means of escape from the earth.
Track Name: Mortar & Masons
We shovel shit from your toilets. On our knees because they’re too high. To us they are mysterious and faceless. To them we are a faceless whore. We pray that money will come. Dollar bills rain down and save us. Tied to this pole we kneel. Will this old man release us. An altar on the backs of every man. The blood adheres one body to the next. Skeletons of architecture. Sacred temple built of death. We are the structures and the streets. They are the masons and the priests. We are the stripper’s prostitute. They are the father, son, and state.