Meshuggah je švédská metalová skupina, která bortí hranice hudbeních stylů a škatulek. Pro kapelu je typický inovátorský přistup k tvorbě hudby.
Píseň: The Exquisite Machinery Of Torture
- Interpret:
- Meshuggah
- Album:
- Chaosphere
A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings. Empty, strained, unmoving eyes; Introverted, paralyzed A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing. An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour. Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness. A retribution by own thoughts; twisting the mind into fits Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination. Set afire by disowned self-lies; they penetrate the eyes. I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload. Thoughts returning to think me away. I... Will I be reprieved, or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery of torture The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial. Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease - In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation. A terminal journey to relieve cognition of Ability Minds lit like candles, by rejected senses and emotions. Tearing flames, born in mind; Creations of self deception. Strained, not to lose the grip - Humans locked in the new disease. A light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean. Ref: I... Am I the next?....... I sense; The facilities of the bodily; Discorporated by the light All my pleas; denied By my psychological enemy The inner light unseen I... I'm deceived by my Receiving eyes; - susceptible to the endless killing-sights Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing Amorphous. Without shape - I'm vanishing; dematerialized My own corrosive thoughts - Probes armed with acid tools Disintegrated, I'm bleached out of reality Scattered bits internally; My last transparent remains; Floating objects inanimate; Spinning into my soul Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I'm a thought repressed I'm swallowed into myself. Destination; nothingness I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload Thoughts returning to think me away I... Will I be reprieved Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite, internal machinery of torture I... I've been the next. My self inflicted overload, My neglected thoughts have thought me undone. I... I was never reprieved Now I know the sentence of me exquisite, internal machinery of torture
Chaosphere (1998)
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5. The Mouth Licking What You've Bled
7. The Exquisite Machinery Of Torture