by Dying

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Here at the end of Days, Dirt brings us solace. We shall long for a respite and ache for the dysrhythmic patterns of 1,000 feet trampling seed into the Earth. Submission begins apolitical and agender, reflection succeeds ambition and we resign amongst the aggregate in total agony.


released March 29, 2015


Recorded by Steve Roche at Permanent Hearing Damage. Mastered by Carl Saff. Design and layout by Andrew McQuiston.

Pressing info:
100 copper colored, pro printed cassettes


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Hydrogen Man Records Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Hydrogen Man Records is a small DIY punk and hardcore record label from Philadelphia, PA.

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Track Name: Rites
Some vehicles of will-less bliss
Drug before the soul-less youth
Lacking in ambition
Apparent in direction
Abject substance
"Nothing to do"

I drown in your vastness
I drown in your emptiness
Drinking in your vastness
Drinking in your emptiness

Poisoned by birth
Poisoned by breath
Made Ill by vision
Made Ill like a wretch

There is no purity
There is no purity
There is no purity

Swallow your own tongue; pointless fucking life
Keep your fucking fun; enjoy your worthless night
Track Name: Exchange
I don't want it, I don't need it, only remember I don't need you
Only death when I cum, don't need your putrid terror
Gaze is a holy terror
Lust is a lasting violence

Let all virility wither and expire

Gaze is violence
Lust is power
I am ill of our bodies

I feel nothing when I cum
And I feel sick when I cum

Lust is terror, touch is hatred, gaze is a lasting power
I feel ill, at least you came, I feel putrid when I cum

Gaze is violence
Touch is terror

I feel nothing
At least you came
I am ill of our bodies

Don't tell me it feels good
Feels like death
Like nothing
Track Name: Police / Work
Stand on my face
You own me
I work for you
You speak for me

You're the police
I do what you say
You put me in chains
They put you in the hole

I need you
You own me

You protect me
You jail me
You're the police
You put me in chains

I need you
You own me
Track Name: Chewing
Behold the animal and the pedestal it rests on
A value, dominion; forced objecthood and symbol-
A tongue licks clean a bone
A mother drives home and stares at the wall

The fantasy is that we share a mutual respect
The reality is abject; an abased complex

Fetish animal/celebratory death
A yoke is a yoke still you wait with baited breath
The corpse in your mouth, the flesh on their skin
The hands that are stained with blood are the hands that always win

Underneath the abject boot
Feeding from the withered breast
Filling up our open mouths
Feeding on what's left within

Chewing as complacent act

I wish every prole to turn on its chain
I wish every master a swift shallow grave
I wish every animal free from its cage
I wish every butcher a cold shallow grave