Fire in the Cave

by Fire in the Cave

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released February 28, 2012

Artwork by Jean Saiz (Shroud Eater).

Physical tapes available soon from NK Tapes.

Scott Branbar - Bass
Jared Oates - Vocals
Kenneth Reda - Guitar
Mike Saffran - Guitar
Justin Sharan - Drums

Tracked and Mixed by Scott Angelacos and Jeff McAlear at High Five Audio in Deland, FL.

Mastered by Colin Jordan at Boiler Room Audio in Chicago, IL.

Thanks to Hollow Leg, Hot Graves, Shroud Eater, Ether, Norse Korea, The Will's Pub Staff, Satanik Recordings, Demons, 90 Proof Productions, Garrett Elkins Photography, High Five Audio, Brain Dead Audio, KC Green, Junior Bruce, Dissident Aggressor, Holly Hunt, flyingsnakes, Orbweaver, Khann, Cannabass, Abuse, Legions, Cough, Dark Castle, Tower, Gaul, Sons of Tonatiuh, The Atlas Moth, False, Thou, Cloud Rat, King Hippo, Swamp Ruins, Arc and Panther, House of Lightning, Druid Lord, Portals, Elliot Smiggen, Melanie Maher, Alex Perez, Chris Ott, Max Clausen, Bao Le-Huu, The Apparatus, slashpine, Ominous Black, DUTCHGUTS, Order of the Owl, Capsule, Rise Above Tattoo, and to our beloved friends, family and swamp brethren.



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Fire in the Cave Orlando, Florida

"Blistering riffs become sluggish spells of hypnosis constructed in movements."

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Track Name: Civilized Swamp
This civilized swamp boils in murky malevolence. Pilgrims leave sincere trails of hopeless remembrance, but never has our water been so unclear.

Drenched in social malaria friendly faces fathom inspiration of tears falling to a familiar shoulder. Those same faces will soon tremble and melt.

Between forthright trunks and in plain view the malodorous beauty beckons me. Her fecund stumps for fingertips coax me deeper into my credulous conclusions.

Her palms are charcoal crosses emanating zealotry that makes the midnight taste richer than her filthy innocent lesions. She begs me to answer why her family went to christ without her.

I lie in her arms dreaming deeply so as to taste her worth.

These drugged and drawn realities of venomous consequence breed beneath my gums swimming through her cheekbone and flowing through her eyes. Flowing through her eyes.

Her mouth wide open tastes like saccharine secrets that spill and drip down to the floor infectious. Her limbs swing to my tempered tempos, but the life she bleeds will grow no fruit. The life that she loses will never grow.

Her cold crosses invert silently before she staggers backwards weakened and alone.
Track Name: Aeden Carr
This civilized swamp, in which we dig our toes, it withers our skin and strengthens our foes. Freed locusts pour upward from the thicket where I saw her collapse. Towards the forefront sky they rise, breathe and circle towards the west.

To my waist I’d been deepened in palpable sorrows, emitted from her wails and wishes. I knew not where this town called Cross she spoke of lie, and I’d surely not heard of its men.

I am the warmth that burns safety through this fenwick. I walk upon my land ankle deep in living water.

I wade through pockets of serpents, and primitive sluggish fins. I live among an exiled leader, and his howling maddened children. Their leader, Doran Amory, had grown them out of flaws shed unto the soil.

His family stands before me in my final steps out of the marshes.

With mire behind me, Doran offers me his lukewarm hail. “Aeden these foreign colonies, they continue their weak and mournful crusade. They fear the light, and welcome caliginosity.”

I told him of concerns with locusts breeding where there shines no light.

This sweltering climate had driven the servile hosts through pyrexic neurosis. Away from ushering pyres.

When they’d heard of my most recent meal we both decide we must act quickly, for Doran knew where their temple lie, and tonight it must burn bright.

With rifles at our backs, we charge onward, toward the sounds of hymnal desolation. These intruders will, soon know the ire of our kin.