Light Averted

from by Bury the Machines



Genius, it's not a fucking contest
no grand prize, no finish line
give up your conquest
clowns making the scene
crowding the streets
the clones have run amok
a siege of suck and mediocrity
music, a sacred rite
twisted, broken, demoralized
why don't you stick to what you know?
Mcdonald's... Operah... the radio...
Jesus wasn't half as self deceiving
egregious, petty and mean

Your art is synthetic, disconnected
logic is brainsick
evident enemy
sonic is mystic
the mark, you've missed it
your vision is twisted
I have a remedy
bludgeons, bullets, hooks, hammers, firing squads,
sinister alchemy
away from the cities, the noise of the brainless drones

Ethics, an afterthought
dishonor, loose lips sink ships
cannot return what has been stolen
the key has crumbled, the lock is frozen

Enough rhetoric
you wax generic
you lack sincerity
infinite decay
throat tightens
stomach turns
when your mouth moves
vile, gruesome
a page from the book
a word from the prophet
a laugh from the stooge
the nexus of wisdom
eliminate addiction
illuminated vision
grasp for the muse
light averted truths


from Barbwalker, released February 27, 2016
John E Bomher Jr. - Guitar, Bass, Vox, Synth
Mark Serpico Jr. - Drums



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Bury the Machines Chicago, Illinois

Bury The Machines attempts to cope with the inevitable burden of humanity; the depression, loss, and hardship that is the price of consciousness. A stunted wail of hope and providence transmuted from tragedy and suffering; the promise to the tortured souls, the outcasts and artists that can no longer trudge the path toward redemption alongside us. ... more

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