by Thou

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christopher_jerome like slicing my neck, slitting my wrists, and blowing my brains out, all at the same time, hoping my sacrifice is fractionally worthy in respect to the immense sound that just pulverized my entire being & beyond
Jordan Vauvert
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Jordan Vauvert Tyrant porte bien son nom et exerce un pouvoir qui nous dépasse. Les premiers grincements des cordes se produisent, les premières notes — d'une masse si importante — se soulèvent et le retour en arrière n'est plus possible. Le tout est porté par un nihilisme nitzschéen gueulé à s'en arracher la gorge. N'espérez pas être sauvé par une quelconque grâce de Dieu ; fous sont ceux qui entretiennent cet espoir. Le Néant nous attend. Favorite track: Fucking Chained to the Bottom of the Ocean.
goblintoof thumbnail
goblintoof In your face. Deafening bleakness. Lyrics that act as manifestos to the sickness of the world. Essential entry point to doomed hardcore with blackened influence peppered in. What else can I say? Favorite track: Monstrance.
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Tyrant 08:27
We're slaves to conditioning. Hidden eyes judge us from the heavens, unseen fingers choking free will back down our throats. You can never escape the foul presence of christianity. And to ignore the divine contradictions, and to reject a fictitious morality, and to scorn superstitions, and to put your faith in logic--this is the path to your damnation. And you shall know them by the fruit they bear: intolerance, manipulation, genocide. All in the name of a god conjured in the imaginations and machinations of men. How dejected and unfulfilled. Look to me in hate, pity or indifference--but don't expect longing or acceptance in these eyes, or in these words--not for your pompous egotism, boisterous moral posturing, righteous indignation, or resignation to constant suffering. I would rather burn in hell than cling to man-made falsehoods. I would rather live in constant doubt and fear, expecting an unfeeling abyss than embrace false hope or extravagant fairy tales. There is no great shaper in the heavens. Nothingness awaits.
What do you want me to say? What would you have me do? Must I rip out my own tongue and deafen these ears, stop an uncomfortable conversation before it starts? Must I tear out my own eyes, so I don't have to watch this constant self mutilation? Excuses. Lies. I swallowed them whole. Must I bite my lip so hard that a river of blood will choke back the criticism you're sure to hear in my voice? You cannot stop. I will not stop. Excuses and lies, I swallowed them whole. Oh, godless day with no sun to see that I've gone. And the night will not miss the breath from my lungs. It just moves on.
This freezing chamber is inescapable. These ashen walls are insurmountable. Empty sockets see nothing but black, black, black abyss. Endless gloom. Endless solitude. A lifeless form. Twilight eternal. The current sweeps their bodies to shore. The last reminder of the death they endured. Of the oceans depths, they are now sure. No escape. Reaper, join us. Father of death, return to us. Empty sockets see nothing but black, black, black abyss. We are all lost between hell and the sea. The surface is shimmering--just beyond our reach. Why? Why have we been abandoned? Shadows grasp at the ghosts of memories. There is no release. There is no end in sight. Tomorrow will never come. I cannot let go. I can never let go.
Fire made flesh. Renounce the throne. Screams split the sky. Fall to the sea. My heart has been reshaped in flames of treachery, bent beneath the hammering blows of alienation. It's now a dark thing of iron resolve and unyielding hatred. Grinding my teeth in contempt... Free will made flesh. Renounce the divine. With black sword in hand, my steps carry me back to my tormentors. I realize all the grim sternness of my own cold building with its wealth of breathing misery and my own desolate heart to endure it all. But it is the curse of greatness that it must step over dead bodies to create new life. And now there is change. The serpent has turned its head to strike its master. Those suffocating under dominion have broken their chains. Privilege destroyed. Wealth ground to dust. Power laid to waste. Grinding teeth in contempt, with black swords in hand, stepping over dead bodies, and creating new life.
Monstrance 06:26
The enchantment is broken forever. The bonds are severed. Now brush away these puppet strings. No more will I dance to the steady beat of lies. Get this through your head: We are done. The future in your eyes is washed away in reality's tide. My blind faith is washed away in reality's tide. Infallibility is washed away in reality's tide. The ebb and flow that once drew me back has ground me to shore while you're lost at sea. Wave after wave after wave after wave, the truth finally revealed. Patience worn away. Sympathy worn away. How long did we drag this out? I you had let me, would I have let it go on forever? How many times did you look me in the eye and lie right to my face? Were you just laughing away the whole time? Or did you just look at me in pity and disgust? Now we have escaped from beneath the shadow of Ouroboros. Misery perpetual. Now I've turned my back on emotional wreckage. Now I've paid respects to the corpse of hopeful dreams. Now silence surrounds. Silence can be broken by reminiscence, by self recriminations. You were right. You're not a good person. And you're not worth my time. You were right.
Twenty-six years of self-imposed exile. Now I stagger from the desert, both eyes blind, without hands. But I still see. And I must act. Is there nothing left to do but dissolve my conscience? What good is sympathy, what good is approval, when everyday I put on this hood and cleave the guilty limb from limb? Guilty of what? Of being subordinates to a race of egotistical misanthropes. We breed them without limbs and then rip them from their mother's womb. We pack their bodies together as tight as we can, stand them amongst urine and feces. Inject them with chemicals, livestock hacked apart piece by piece until the eyes we spray with poison just barely make out their impending doom. But screams can't come from throats covered in cancer. And there is no willpower left in a heart we infected with AIDs. Our axes are sharp, but we still cut them slow. They must feel every agonizing second of pain. They must know who's in charge. Ignorance and sloth rule the land. But an army rises from the ashes of despair. You can see a forest of black banners on the horizon. Marching ever so closer. Marching.
Acceptance 11:46


This is our first "full length" album.


released September 21, 2007

Recorded in Baton Rouge, Louisiana by Brennan Moss and Michael Talley. Mastered by Mell Detmer.


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Thou Baton Rouge, Louisiana

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