Arbitrator US - Hollow
Taken from the upcoming debut EP.
__________________________________

Ryan Dennis - Vocals
Sean Sparaco - Drums, Guitars
Additional guitar work by Josh Lim.

Logo Artwork - Anonim Logos
Single Artwork - @dxmnedexrth (Instagram)
Mixing/Mastering - Simone Pietroforte (Divergent Studios)
__________________________________

SOCIAL MEDIA
Facebook - [ Ссылка ]
Instagram: @arbitratorus

STREAMING
Spotify - [ Ссылка ]
Apple Music - [ Ссылка ]
Distrokid HyperFollow Link: [ Ссылка ]
______________________________________________________

LYRICS

Within the withered womb of all by which I am defined,
A frail and absent recollection of myself is derived.
As I am lulled to sleep by the echoes of thought from my hollow insides.

A once-proud nation reduced to a monolith,
Where life was once abundant now remains a myth.
While I struggle to carry forth my legacy,
I fail to find a reason that I should exist.

A pitiful pawn, a puppet of all that reaches my ears,
Unwilling to think for myself throughout the passing years.

The sky has opened in the shadow of a god
Who looks on his creation without an empathetic thought.
The darkness cast will keep me blinded, keep me lost,
As I am left to wander through the dark amid the frost.

Shaped by the avaricious will of tyrants so long dead,
I was reduced to slavery by my own dread.
Held captive by the thoughts ringing inside my head,
I walked a weary Earth, by our will, it slowly bled.

Prayer falls upon the ears of the deaf
As I'm sustained only by hope from fantasies they left.
My predecessors, fathers of all my regrets,
Casting their bastard spawn back to the lands they left.


The sun will never set upon what they have built,
And yet it can't escape the shade cast by the weakest willed

We are the sons of those whose blood was never spilled
In the name of their causes by which we are killed.
Left to our own devices, we wallow in the filth
That washes down from the temples settled in the hills

We cast our eyes upward, upon their gleaming crowns,
Anathema to all that seek the gift of sight and sound.

Within the perspective to which I am confined,
A dying iteration of myself is derived.
An empty shell of misery, from this world now resigned,
As I am left to break beneath the shame of their design.

Blindly, we stumble and we crawl across the sacred grounds
Of gods of their own imagining, watching us seek what they've already found.
I hope only for silence as the echoes inside resound.

свернуть