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Ion Dissonance - Breathing Is Irrelevant cover art

Breathing Is Irrelevant

TypeStudio Full-length
GenresMetalcore, Mathcore, Technical Deathcore
LabelsWillowtip Records
Album rating :  75 / 100
Votes :  2
Lyrics > I > Ion Dissonance Lyrics (26) >

Breathing Is Irrelevant Lyrics

Submitted by level
1. Substantial Guilt vs. the Irony of Enjoying (3:29)
and I lay numb, waiting for something worst to happen.
sweet innocence, it happened so suddenly.
she crossed my path on the way to nothingness,
I knew that was encountering an angel of purity
and in the process I've quickly understood that I don't deserve her,
none of us, humans, do.
beholding such a fatality leave you empty with bitter grief.
life seem to be tarnished and sour, raped in its very essence,
but sorrow is rapidly replaced by frustration, envy and despair.
dressed in white, a child alone,
so fragile and beautiful has dawn,
to hold her close was exhilarating in a most vicious way.
I felt so weak, yet empowered somehow.
One thing leading to another, I knew then,
that if I could not experience nor possess purity,
I would at least try to grasp it and choke the life out of it.
and I did, oh why, I don't know but I did... violently,
I've pummelled her face with my bare fists till she became awfully deformed,
bleeding and dying, all twisted in terror...
I, I, I have forcefully replaced every missing teeth in her mouth
by razor sharp shards of glass,
slowly inserting every piece of glass in the little one's gum.
why was I laughing?
I guess that is my art, to inflict upon purity the only thing I can give,
and unfortunately it's not love.
I should've feel guilty, I know, but it simply didn't occur.
(As I am unable to put the knife trough my own flesh anymore...)
2. The Budd Dwyer Effect (4:41)
it takes guts and a gun, just like in bud dwyer's lil' surprise.
a defect, no one'll ever see it coming.
I'm indulging myself in a strategic advance, orchestrated by the enemy.
it dwells deep, yet grows strong, within...
(Am I working against myself? well am I?)
everything dreadful happening, imagine how I should feel,
when realizing that it was planned,
from a beginning that I don't even recall,
you might call this a tragedy,
seems more to me like simple standard habits.
wishing to be finally saved,
waiting for something/someone that would order me to follow
a certain purpose with both convictions and deviations.
if you'd only knew how... I'm tired of your paintings.
your bold landscapes sucks and have ceased to amaze me long ago.
be a pal and let me add a fantasy of mine, abstraction.
of scarlet and red pure... so pure.
are there any written rules related to simplicity (of actions, of thoughts...)
I guess not.
so how come your judging?
you won't the day that it will end,
drenched in vital fluids (.357)
as you are forced to witness the spontaneity of the events.
and I won't be a bother no more?
3. Failure in the Process of Identifying a Dream (4:39)
shadows are finally freed to hover... the wintry landscape,
apart from their mated-masters,
they seem serene has they dance childishly.
has for my soul... it is floating over some greyish magenta,
watching me losing conscience from a good distance...
solaris is dimly shinning,
and is desperately trying to pierce the pale wall of mist, blurring his vision.
I cannot exactly describe this weariness in which I am drowning,
yes... it is possibly the darkest day that I've ever experienced.
yet misery don't seem so heavy anymore,
it seems more or less constant and relentless?
sorrow slips over me like rain usually does on soft skin...
cold as marble stone.
I'm overwhelmed by this sudden state of neutrality... of weightlessness.
I am lost trough an emptied heaven...
I sense that I am no longer alone in my foreign journey,
around me they swirl silently, those little aerial beings.
little angels of demise whispering music to my hear, exquisite yet inaudible.
I cannot understand a thing of what they're saying.
silence is the beauty that I behold, profound has an eternal slumber,
holding the strangest of dreams.
blindly I follow, for I am simply drugged by their livid smile.
I cannot stop... not now, so close...
(to the unknown) frost is gradually spreading trough my veins,
and toward my darkened heart,
crystallizing my blood after its passage...
luring me far away from what I might have once called: home...
those little spirits are slowly killing me, with purity.
I know now that they want me to die an horrible death,
has much has anyone else.
and frankly, I don't really care anymore...
4. 101101110110001 (2:34)
gazing at a silver screen, I wonder not...
what am I waiting for? streaming?
wait, wait, loading binary instruction.
drowned in surrounding CPU resolution,
absorbed by this unique light of data drone! in this machinery's lore,
I'm constantly seeking some pixel-rendered answers.
powerful imagery and sweet numbers A.I.
yeah man, you really are the master,
masturbate, on/off this pitiful creation of yours...
that's right outside you ain't shit you porno-induced zombie!
shut my conscience (and delete it for good)
it never helped me anyway; it's a critical error.
what is it? a discreet anomalism...
and I'm distracted, from this not so obvious purpose that I'm trying to reach (in vain).
disturbed, yet it's just a coffee spot, lyin' on the table.
one of many, and and maybe the only fragment of reality I had in weeks.
I can't tell, haven't count I remember now;
this substance must be injected by oral means.
5. Binary Pt.2 (4:05)
narrowing days seem to stop before my utopic interface,
but 5 seconds without it, ain't worth eternity.
now here's another story; logical Function:
"keeps me awake" awake? caffeine, it must be friend of mine.
this body has treacherous ways, it must be replaced.
I'm so tired, so verily tired... is it day already?
one of many, and maybe the only fragment of reality I had in months.
I'm tired... (I never want to wake up).
but sleeping seems of questions.
guess I must hit the reset button.
and my comfortable world crumbles again,
leaving me defenceless against the outside.
shaken and afraid, I'm filled with remorse and disgust
at the reflection provided by this dark mirror in front of me.
staring back at me, laughing at me.
wait, wait, for how long must I wait?
until it starts again... and I'm saved.
windows to my freedom, my life. my head hurts...
aching a pleasant disease.
my head hurts... aching a pleasant disease!
brand new, my world is at last.
6. The Death of One Man Is a Tragedy, the Death of 10,000 Is a Statistic (2:02)
you're not important.
being unique is a concept!
yeah, it's you! who are investing way too much time,
over the uselessness of the self.
the guinea pig, nothing but another stupid loathful subject.
say it, shout it, tell them! say it, fuck it, shoot THEM!
and it compels you, the complete lack of goals and values.
repeating without ever learning, futile attempts.
to change your condition, lame as ever.
to leave the cushion comfort of your flat existence,
what a curious thought? isn't it?
under the gaze of a lavish sky, how can you not feel humble?
you're so pretty in pink,
I think I'll grab myself a cold one and watch you explode...
except I'm no messiah, well damn...
come to think about it, I still own my .357. shout it, shoot it, human!
think about it you fuck and shoot THEM!
7. Oceanic Motion (3:19)
all around, back and forth, the sickening smell of insignificance.
I'm used to it now, I must reek of it.
the density of the air was tangible today, it was way too heavy for me.
I woke up an hour earlier,
I am eager to amaze myself for all the things that I could do,
but most definitely won't, during this loose hour.
another day, predictably mundane,
another scratch on the surface of the 7" ep,
that is my life... it keeps on bouncing!
(all around, back and forth)
my "columbian (medium roast) full-bodied with rich flavor" coffee.
expensively tasted like sewer water today.
the "normal and subtle" sour taste couldn't be sweeten at all,
no matter how I sugared it.
how many times have I wonder if this taste wasn't impregnated in my mouth?
and once again (and as always),
I'm having a delightful conversation.
with the refrigerator by my side, he's always complaining,
I'm used to his point of views now, his constant mumbling...
drastically sarcastic, almost has bitter has my coffee.
he seems to have an opinion about everything?
an instant passed, then I remembered that I have an optic sense.
ah, there its is, my 4th floor morning-view of a sunlit back alley.
down there, an ant-like man is wandering,
nervously looking all around, back and forth.
and once the tension is gone, sure that nobody's there
(Unaware that he's being stared at),
unzip his pants and ungraciously expose himself
in order to piss his way trough my alley.
I am almost has relieved as he, once he's finished,
but for obvious different reasons.
happily confined, thoroughly hollow and unfulfilled.
I think I'll go back to sleep.
(Is it possible to be sea-sick on firm ground?)
8. The Girl Nextdoor Is Always Screaming (3:30)
amy, sweet lewd amy... the way she moans, it's so obscene.
whether she's crying or complaining,
and the way she's getting beaten, it's almost arousing.
I cannot differ the sounds anymore,
they all seem like a relentless buzzing discomfort.
fuck this treacherous imagination of mine,
if you'd only knew the complexity of the scenarios emerging from there.
it feels like a bad soap-opera,
yet you cannot help yourself from watching the next episode.
she must be so beautiful,
I guess that is why I hate her and her voice that much.
the mystery in itself, of her real self, is far more interesting than knowing.
introspection, yes I do fear the return of the ever-questioning process.
it has forced me to review most of the basics concerning females.
I hear them, over and over again, throughout the night.
I don't remember the last time I slept,
and... and I'm not feeling well, here,
alone with my thoughts... staring at a blank wall.
battered and bruised, bleeding on the floor.
worthless piece of meat. I know she's crushed.
but I am useless, unable to save her, and maybe I don't want to.
oh how I beg for complete silence...
9. A Regular Dose of Azure (3:46)
as a flower, she bloomed once her wrists were opened.
I remember her scent, intoxicating.
my communication with her was clearly enhance.
but her's was quickly fading, discontinued and frail.
her eyes reflected an hopeless apprehension,
for a compassionate smile, a misplaced melancholy.
liquid-azure, she stared at me...
like when we used to drink too much cocktails on sunday's afternoon...
I remember her heart-breaking smile, now beautifully distorted.
agony and orgasms combined, I swear.
don't worry girl, everythin' is going to be alright.
can't wait till she sober up and realise what is truly happening.
she seem gently desperate, numb and on the verge of collapsing.
but that... I cannot allow. this is a test
and I couldn't get more sentimental.
her pulse, slowing down, foreshadowing a very long and quiet season,
of dreamlike serenity...
I'll miss her so much
(Ether died as a martyr, unknown, in a secluded asylum)
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