The noose of generations
Pulls tighter every day
Under the blackened hood
We choke on our own mistakes
Slowly
Fading
No hope
For this world
The light
Recedes
Our hands
Bring our end
These gallows were built on tradition and faith
Eternally strangled by these constant cousins of death
Man's lifeless body, swings in the breeze
Condemned and destroyed by unseeing eyes
Suffocate
Grasping
Struggling
Gasping for air
Regret solves nothing
We stand with our back to the mirror
Turn and face The Hangman
The band's debut is full of whiskey-burned growls and maniacal high shrieks, not surprising for a group of Detroit metal vets. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 22, 2016