where will you go when the animals run scared?
the soil is dust—the water is death. the seeds have no vigor!
you can't plant them here! we wait until the morning—wilt and disappear.
the ground is infertile—it reaks of oil.
with all the nutrients gone, i'll be gone too.
can't plant here any longer...
reaching towards the sky...
looking only to find—they have blocked out the sun.
Polish noise-crust outfit eschews the big Tragedy-esque riffs still popular with their US counterparts for scratchy claustrophobia. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 2, 2016