Disposable Life

by WEAPON Y/Z

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01:42
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01:36
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01:33
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02:07
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00:58
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01:53
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03:07
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02:12
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00:27
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02:22
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01:06
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01:29
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13.
02:38
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about

GK#284 c&p 2012 karaoke/weapon y/z

credits

released 21 September 2012
GRINDCORE CINEMA presents
"Disposable Life"

All tracks produced by WEAPON Y/Z, 2012

www.facebook.com/weaponyz
soundcloud.com/weapon-y-z
weaponyz.bandcamp.com
twitter.com/WEAPONYZ

tags

tags: experimental grindcore hip hop digital hardcore e-grind

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all rights reserved

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Track Name: After Hours (The Hedonistic Calculus)
AFTER HOURS (THAT HEDONISTIC CALCULUS)
Off the clock we need to grab some beers. Yeah tonight we're gonna get drunk as hell and we should smoke a bowl. Lets go back to your place. Or fuck it man. lets just smoke it now! No time to waste. Make no mistake. It's ours to take. Reclaim the moment. Living with no ambition or obligation. We're the most joyfully frustrated. The guy on the eighth floor has kick ass shrooms. I heard there's a party tonight in his room. That bitch who works the coffee shop can get MDMA. If you really want cocaine it's in the basement of the library. The drugs will make you feel in place. It's yours to take. Reclaim the moment. Infecting inside it's growing you're knowing that what you learned is that your time isn't free after all... the only thing you wanted was control... to make every moment turn out like this time that was bought for you for free as a courtesy for being brought into this world with luck. You're still fucked because you never asked for this. You're putting up with some shit and it could be much worse. Yeah. The worst of it: Relativity is a bitch and you're sick of it but you can't control it. You think of it but you can't even behold it. In the thick of it you're never free from the shadow of the man you wanted to be. Cling to life like a huddled mass, while you pour yourself another glass.
Track Name: Buried
BURIED
You're just a piece of trash. Circling the drain, like my blood sweat and pubic hair. Burned at the steak, like a Satan spoiled bitch. Don't ever mistake your free time for witchcraft. Cause that's the going rate, for your finite life. Reaching the same conclusion but you just can't shake the illusion. Delusion confusion just ruins your outlook out of luck fucked in the dump. The landfill trashhill cemetery coffin symposium is your grave resting place the end of days. You used up all your time and now the value's gone to waste. "I'm in the grave? I'm buried? I can't be dead! Why me?" You're just a piece of trash. Crawling the gutter like mutation sludge disease with negative lifelines you sustain as you sleaze. We always think "it won't happen to me" so throw yourself at the bar and grab another drink.
Track Name: Cheers (O, O, X, X,)
CHEERS ( O , O , X , X )
Too many X's, not enough O's. I'm suffocating on this closed off mindblock. Too many hours that I can't control. All i ever wanted was the power... to buy my life back. Fight your fears - the placebos -> your mind. Circle circle, CROSS CROSS in a tic-tac-toe stalemate draw game eternal fate repetitive day overwriting my loss. Yeah. Check the records my intentions overwritten now never stated. Fight your fears - the placebos -> your mind. Draw a perfect circle every time. Just try to draw a perfect circle, you'll fail every time. You're unsure of yourself but that's only in your mind. So crumple up another piece of paper and toss it to the garbage incinerator. Down an elevator shaft to the last bastion of trash before it's cast into the hellfire flames of wrath. Like the empty bottle that you just threw out and the next cold one you're about to down.
Track Name: Disposable World
DISPOSABLE WORLD
Throwing it all away. I just can't take it anymore. I've got a million good reasons to give up right now. I just can't take it anymore. I've got so much of it pent up and shit it's starting to come out. So throw it out. I just don't care anymore. Disposable world, disposable life. I just don't give a fuck anymore and I don't care about the future I just care about tonight. So throw it out. Because i can't stand tragedy, just throw it out. Before death gets the best of me, just throw it out. In the long run i thought I could only do this for so long. You already lost your second to stop and think and it's time to have another drink.
Track Name: Exoskeleton
EXOSKELETON
You are a deviation from the hive. A separation small part of a grand design. Stay in line and follow the pheromones. Your own life is disposable. Shed your skin for the queen. Shaped into the ultimate drone. You're changed into a slave ant you lost your soul. Shed your skin for the queen. You just do it for the nectar.
Track Name: From The Void
FROM THE VOID
From the void you are formed in it's image. Existence in itself is a remarkable feat. Making purpose with a life is just redundancy. From the void you lose your zen. Intricate designs lack the utility. (inspire you to stray) Facing fluctuations from the sea. (black and white make grey) From the void you lose your zen and then they win when they exploit the fact that you don't understand the needs and wants for what you lack. Molding holy spheres that were thrown perfect from the void. A thoughtless perfect symbol of the world that was destroyed. Turning into fixtures just like cogs in the machine. From nothing came existence arbitrations of the scene. [From nothing came existence and now that's all it'll ever be.] Invited to break thresholds with stimuli. You gained one and two in exchange for your third eye. And there's just a vague desire to reascend. (disgust for what you've become) Transcendent beings trapped by mortal skin. (and desires of the flesh)
Track Name: God & Garbage Man
GOD & GARBAGE MAN
Who is the man with the pious uniform? Cleaning the rubbish from utopian suburbs, someone has to do this job. Who is the man with designer robot claws? Disposing of things indiscriminate. The final death of right and wrong. Cast the unbelievers to the fate of the deceiver and scrape the remainder into a prophesized container. 15,000 miles cubed is the size of this golden walled post-death city. The gates won't let you in or out. It's a paradise prison that you'll never leave. Who is the man with pariahs at his feet? Condemning their deeds with graceful ease. You can feel their faults as he collects them up and casts the unbelievers to the pit of discarded hopes and traps the redeemers. Genocide of tomorrow. 15,000 miles cubed is the size of this golden barred post-death city. The gates won't let you run or exit. It's a paradise prison just keep telling yourself it's a paradise paradise paradise. It's a paradise prison, just keep telling yourself it's a paradise. This is zen. This is what I wanted most. Trapped in an afterlife one way or another. No one really had control. Win? Did I win? Will I feel this way again? A supply of liquor makes the time go quicker but it never comes to a fucking end.
Track Name: Hell At My Feet
HELL AT MY FEET
I go for each moment still not swallowed in the black. I always march forward but I also watch my back. I look forward to a lot of things, but still I can't retreat with the future at my face and hell at my feet. Run through the mud with the man at your back. You've got nowhere to call home and few possessions packed. No plans for tomorrow, little hope for tonight but yeah you pray to heavy metal cause you know you'll have to fight. And you lose it more as you try to find a solution to replace the function you corrupt. It's the formula to keep your mind. This Hedonistic Calculus - ADD IT UP. Run through the mud with the man at your back. You've got nowhere to call home (YOU FUCKING BUM). Inhibitions never stopped you once you never gave a fuck. If you're looking for approval you'll get none. Someday I'm gonna die but won't we all in time? Who wants to live forever? That'd be boring if you tried and hell I'm capable of so much but yeah first I'll stop and think and I think what I mean is I'll have another drink.
Track Name: Idiot Music
IDIOT MUSIC
It's just fucking noise!!! A wise man once said, "too fast? my ass!" so blast last tempo on the scroll speed. Bad ideas mixed up with good weed indeed speed speed i need to GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! You can't keep up, it's just fucking noise!!! So drink, yeah I'll drink when I get the chance and make shitty music with machines and sleep and repeat to make money so i can afford to drink and sleep, drink, repeat and daydream of more sleep.
Track Name: Just Because
JUST BECAUSE
(Condescending inquiry wielded by spiteful tongues.) Awake and question why you're fighting with Weapon Y. You don't have the answers and that's standard now. You'd fight back if you only knew how. You can't explain yourself. You don't know why. You don't care anymore, and it's starting to show but you'll avoid confrontation at any cost. This is how I'm thwarting Weapon Y: Spit back in your face. Have a taste. Your questions shoot the whys and I block them with a phrase but "just because" is not an answer its two words that just fill space. This is how I'm thwarting Weapon Y: Tell them "just because" you owe them no explanation.
Track Name: Kleptomaniac
KLEPTOMANIA
You lost every possession you ever owned before you even gained them. You soiled with contempt the laurels that you did and didn't earn. You lost every possession you could have owned. How does it feel to not be born a royal heir? How does it feel to not be born a billionaire? You lost the potential. You're a human. You made it so close. Capable of thought but not able to reach beyond in the last epoch of time but the change is still too far and most of us will stay behind. You lost the future you could have owned.
Track Name: Libido Lot
LIBIDO LOT
Let's do it now. Let's do it on the floor. Yeah you want it more. You want it from me. Can't you feel this ecstasy? You want more. You want it digital hardcore. You want a taste of something different from the radio whores. You just want sex. You want more, more, more and more's exactly what you'll get. When we do it fuck I'll last. I've got endurance I've got breath so what's left? Just an asshole open to my bass end kicks and the beat that sticks. You want sex but you're not gonna get it. You want. You need. Your sex drive is one thing that you didn't get a chance to plan. This is your lot you're dealt your hand. Libido machine - Your drive to achieve. Because if you don't get a fuck then do you really give a fuck? Drink another one for the dancers and prostitutes. Teasing your libido so at least you feel something.
Track Name: MAXXXXXXXXX
MAXXXXXXXXX
Why is the world so full of assholes? Why do we all just disagree? (I'm trying to connect with you so tune in to my frequency.) Pirate sound. Digital. Underground. Uncompromising for whatever shit I'm worth. Untouchable in LMMS sequencer sound. This sound MAXXXXXXXXXes out my maniac curse. I wanna live! (I wanna live!) Until I die! (Until I die!) And the track goes like this: Reaching for the hook and claw into your mouth from my mouth that you think won't stop this mouth to mouth. Exchanging poison from my tongue. I'm a secret agent now you're done. I won. I'm in their archives. Yeah. I've infested their data. For every bad time comes a good time like a pendulum swing. Overwhelming if you try to take in everything. Me? I don't get worked up over any fucking thing because what does it really matter if it doesn't make you scream with pleasure? Because instead of "just because" you have a reason and it falls to primal instinct. Weapon Y is one "Why" that you'd rather face weak than lose another moment to Weapon Z: "Sleep" Why is the world so full of assholes? Yeah God, Garbage Man, clean this shit flash from the pan.