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Rolling Cinder

by Agosto Espías

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    This is the debut two song 7" single from this new and proving outfit. After the recent passing of their previous notable groups, this is the posthumous result. Deriving from their natural influences of 90's emo hardcore to the even more rougher ridges of metal crossover. They blaze through tracks with a honest blend of the two, coursing with emotional and musical intensity. This is a limited one time pressing of 200 pieces. Hand screened packaging, hand stamped centers and includes a digital download with an additional two tracks from this recorded session.

      $2.50 USD

     

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about

This is the debut two song 7" single from this new and proving outfit. After the recent passing of their previous notable groups, this is the posthumous result. Deriving from their natural influences of 90's emo hardcore to the even more rougher ridges of metal crossover. They blaze through tracks with a honest blend of the two, coursing with emotional and musical intensity. This is a limited one time pressing of 200 pieces. Hand screened packaging, hand stamped centers and includes a digital download with an additional two tracks from this recorded session.

credits

released May 25, 2010

Recorded and engineered with Diego Irigoyen Monteiro in the winter of 2009. In various rooms of his lovely home in Riverside, CA. Mastered by Jack Shirley at The Atomic Garden. All music, lyrics and artwork by Agosto Espías.

Please order the physical copy at www.glorykid.com. Thank you.

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Agosto Espías Riverside, California

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Track Name: Rolling Cinder
And this gust of wind will sail the rage of a thousand voices that grind a wage / unfit endless stacks callused hands will make / to ample deep pockets for a name with no face / for I am a man of blood, bone, and flesh / can you hear me? / I will regress in a time I must confess / can you see me? / the power of my hands will not be oppressed / you will know me / soon you will sear in the blaze of my heart / you will feel me / an effigy for everything, you'll will be torn away / from the slightest hair to the tumbling brick, you'll will be tucked away / suit covered rooms to ash cloaked twigs, you'll be swept away / howling sirens call forth black bloc serenades / cast me away / we must make haste / cast me away to a far better state / the clock is set and dense hours drop / August's bark frays, refusing to stop / why can't I except ordination? / why must I harvest discontent? / they're all just words, dig-biting words / but delivered swift will cause a shift / they're all just words, dig-biting words / take form of a bullet to kill end's wit / take my hand and i'll set you free / guiding through walls of humanity / take my hand and breathe through me / for these days of rage will quench our longing age / we will feel it all through our fingers / forget how we used to be / the way things were, the way we see / forget how we used to be / the way we see, the way we speak / I want to be more than hard hands, more than flat feet / I want to see more than hash skies, more than paved streets / martyr fear.
Track Name: South Paw
Slave to a paper's make / maid to a purging pen's wake / duets dueling script for a marriage's sake / this forgoes the teach of tongue's age / surpassing time which we have drawn / only to redefine again a sense of long / a feel of culture, a touch of past to present converging for another / it is this craft I shall covet / it is this skill I shall summit / time killing time forever more / time killing time; the flick of my quill I become more / time killing time forever more / time killing time; it leaves me here wanting more / and if my work proceeds me / let my mediums stand beside me / for it won't stamp the mark of man / but outstrip our hollow make at hand / time killing time all we want is more / time killing time; it leaves me here wanting more.
Track Name: The Red Door
Wash me over from Red to White / pat my head, what's yours is no longer mine / clean me up from cuffs to hems / ravel away all familiar threads / we are to meet the needs of pragmatic motion / and quench curiosity of a proletariat lesson / to become what i'll never want / and strive to what i'll never be / is something only a absent heart can see / they have pulled me away from baring limbs / shoved off; rubbed off; and unhinged / but just beyond that quiet hill, you can teach them / through those insufferable window seals, you can see them / just beyond those Sherman gates / they are sure to lay me / braids thrown to the floor / you can't silence this.