'98 Cryptic Demo

by Twitching Slab

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Recorded live at Cryptic Studios, Lewiston, Maine, by Jason Fogg and Jason Crowell.

Cover art by Kris Milo


released January 1, 1998

All songs written by Twitching Slab

Mike Cavanaugh - drums
Kris Milo - vocals
John Dorr - bass
Brian Albert - guitar



all rights reserved


Earwhacked LTD Lewiston, Maine

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Track Name: A Mental Recantation
Hello inside your hollow feel, do you remember why you're laughing?
What you're saying and what I'm hearing, these things are not the same

You stare through, I look at you, freshness lacking in your words
I wish this would change, you'll stay the same, you like to be the problem

You face me through the mirror, an image of my inner self
A forgotten configuration, controlling me, my outer self

Barbed impressions, shifting thoughts confusing me
An emotional creation, a psychotic separation

I'm the front, you'll take my place and stick me with the rest of the lost
My face, your face, what face?
Will I know me tomorrow?
Track Name: Morbid Wake
I arose cloaked in blackness, by body's numb as I try to move
Everything had changed somehow, I was not whole
My senses, entirely void of, surroundings which left me confused
A fragment, a glimpse of the past, the only proof that I had a life

I found my self far too open, spread out in scattered parts
I lost my head, in a literal sense
Was I alive in a state of shock?
Was this a game being played with my mind or had I just died?

My morbid wake reveals dementia and twisted thoughts
Where was I? Was this Hell?

Infested, the sores won't heal. How many days have I been this way?
Contorted, the shape I'm in, a spiral mass of flesh condemned

Slowly regaining a sense of life, it comes to me with a knifing pain
The wreckage is off in the distance, as I lay fifty yards away
I feel the time has come for me to be afraid
I'm bleeding, I'm dying, I will sleep forever more
Track Name: Reassembled Embryo
Reform the mess, remaking the piece of meat
Reshaping the figure of flesh

Cutting in deep, the face within, adhering limb to throat
Glittering trinkets attached where it's vision should be

Come one, come all to the show of shows
the all new Reassembled Embryo
It's loads of fun, controlled existence
Reassembled Embryo
Track Name: Condensed Meat
I cannot cope with the idiocy, the fact is we don't get along
While you're trying to be something that you're not, I scoff at your existence
Some feel that you shouldn't be here, and with them I tend to agree
You're no more than a gurgled choke in the back of the throat of your favorite whore

How I abhor thee, your incompetence, your weak mind
Now you'll lick your festering sores, I'll leave your tongue to taste
How does it feel to watch your hacked body quiver?
To taste your kidney's bile rushing out, chewing every bite of horror

Your whole life, never taking a stand
Now you'll suffer as I cram your mouth with the sickly remains of the man you never were

A breathing lump of sour flesh
that speaks foul stenching words, regarding nothingness
The afterlife contains no hope for you, you'll be dabbled with and strewn aside
a mockery of your past life, shackled like a dog at the gates of abandonment

Trashed, beaten, ripped from your previous hell
My abhorrence for you is resolved knowing you're soon to be treated justly
Stuck in the back with burning hooks, hanging from your skin
Burn forever slowly, I'll come with your next meal

How does it feel to be your own meal?
I'm sure you can't remember now
It's my turn to feast, and I'll shit you out a better man
Track Name: The Curse of Ahriman
Betwixt now and then, where did we begin?
Burden of beasts sower of pain, will we ever see the light again?

So long to walk, if my brain could talk
Servitude of multitudes, a thanks and a smile
The forgotten sight of our inner selves, once prominent now diminished

The stories grow, my t.v.'s slow, Ahriman
Stole all my plans to be a better man, Ahriman
The stories grow, my t.v.'s slow, Ahriman

And I'm seeing a whole lot better, Ahriman
Blinded by sight, my brain becomes trite, Ahriman
And I'm seeing a whole lot better, Ahriman

Two yellowed lumps seeing no further than the now we have to face

To replenish the vision of eternity all must be forsaken
all beings in communion
Sight in a physical sense increases eternal insight

So long to walk, if my brain could talk
And I'm seeing a whole lot better