Get all 5 Grey C.E.L.L. releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Zero Winter/8 Cylinder Remix CS, Grey C.E.L.L. s/t LP, Opinion Piece, Confused Executive Loss Leader (remastered), and Infallible.
1. |
Set
01:39
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set this down, set them up
put this away. put it out of sight
stash it away, give it no thought
bury it deep, all quarter
no progress in what's forgotten
self imposed misery overrides a conscience
made to stare or made to dig
just turn your back
Fragility defends itself
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2. |
Infallible
01:28
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An infallible system
driven down to
never a doubt in
supremacy’s faith.
The divine arrive
descending in blue,
like suffocation.
Never a misstep
in making us safer now
face down non-believers
are filtered out.
Preemptive (preventative)
trigger pulls as
the machine learns
the ritual’s moves.
Here for “us”
helping “them” too.
Absolute and beyond reproach
that they transcend the moral
with a blinding light.
Certain that we are all
much safer here
In supreme faith
with our hands outstretched
in humble supplication
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3. |
Hard Work
01:58
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We’ll cover ourselves in filth
as if just to say I’ve put in the effort and
I’ve surely endured pain.
Opportunities, all pass by and quickly turned to ash.
If my salary falls short I’ll just claim what’s mine.
Such hard work and it don’t pay,
such effort and no return.
What must I do for my well fed pity?
A sitting status walls to mobility,
or is it a floor and safety?
In a meritocracy the pain of hunger is your own flaw and
your own burden.
I’ve got mine in a haze of short sighted imaginings of burden.
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4. |
Weak Grasp
01:57
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This is the last gasp of our fading kind
Gathering like the disease of heart that we’re dying from
Limbs that scratch and claw with a fury
Born of a loosening grip
Of empty lungs, of borrowed breath
pushing out mewling yelps
No one wants to hear the sound of your veiled retreat
Pretending to be a show of power
That weak hands are failing to grasp
No matter how many corpses are piled beneath our feet
We’ve got no substance to hear or with which to speak
Last gasp
Weak grasp
No one wants to hear the sound of your veiled retreat
But a penchant for self destruction
Embracing summoned self hate
Bristling when we see that they won’t do the same
All you’re left with is empty bitter hands
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5. |
Breed
01:47
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A fear of being bred out
A sanctity or a preference
Bursting out from your chest
Or inhaled like a virus
Diluting your blood
Passed on to the children
The quarantines aren’t working
A need to double down
To reinforce walls
Find a new protocol
Stricter than before
Before it’s too late
The old language is unclear
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6. |
Line
01:52
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one walks in as one walks out
one walks into scrutiny
as one finds fault one stands in line
gathering of sorting down
a couple of lines in books to be talked of
precious moments to be a reminder
a spotlight and a plea to not die
pupils smaller and forcing a smile
defined by the purest examples
of those standing patiently in line
will you tell me your plight if I’m polite
even if moments from now I’ll claim it as mine
a greater dictation
a lesser reaction
seeking agreement in like company
finding more silence in complicity
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Grey C.E.L.L. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
CELL: Janis | Derik | Jim | Kane
Ex & current members of: Citizens Arrest, Monster X, Hell No, NEMA, The Scarlet Letter, HTML, 97a, Stations, Stockpile, FRIGHT
Grey C.E.L.L. recommends:
80s thrash played by NY/NJ/Philly HC/metal veterans
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