Vices

by The Enigma Code

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $7 USD  or more

     

1.
10:27
2.
3.
01:50
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

credits

released March 24, 2016

Written and arranged by The Enigma Code

Josh Milstein - Guitar and vocals (tracks 6 and 8)
Anthony Michelli - Vocals
Collin Halverson - Drums and vocals (track 5)
Garret Bash - Bass
Mike Apicella - Guitar

Lyrics by Collin Halverson
"Autobiography iv. Duende" ending arrangement by Mike Apicella

"The Human Condtion" audio sample taken from Candyman. All rights belong to TriStar Pictures and PolyGram Filmed Entertainment.
"Otherworld" audio sample taken from Silent Hill: Origins. All rights belong to Konami Digital Entertainment and Climax Studios.

Mixing and mastering: Mike Bridgett

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

The Enigma Code Baltimore, Maryland

contact / help

Contact The Enigma Code

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Vices
This fixation for affliction now penetrates the ion that never had the right charge to replace
Discharging what realm of positivity I had left to embrace
Blacking out the last light left in this cold, desolate place
Feeding on my spine with every chance I get for things to be fine

The floor succumbs to my demon's divide
The fiery depths of this self treason will eat me alive
Name every tyrant I have left to defy and I'll promise you with every breath
Soaked in their name, that I've tried
I've tried

Rifts once sealed re-open to create a close
Acting as shutters for humanity's broken windows
Dimensions now fold and break as rifts eradicate the stains,
left from humanity's broken windows
This is my requiem for all mankind
These are the cries that shake the deaf and wake the blind
I'm so damn tired of this sickness festering inside
Inching closer to its purpose every time I lie

Anatomic ruptures marching onto the throne
The crowned and beaten, bruised as this tattered bone
The abuse left in splintered doorways and mangled phones by the man,
who once called this home

Caught in the currents of my past
Holding onto vices like a mast
Abandon all hope for recovery
Stare into the eyes of the life I bastardized
Bastardized

Forgive these lenses, they were stained from the start
Repent these blessings, manipulations of God's art
I've tried for so long
I've tried for so fucking long,
to make amends with the failures sin had strung

I initiate this life
Blood soaked, restless misery
God sealed away my gaze and gave birth to my wretched ways

Amending with the failures

My soles have bled this bitter race
All for the taste of clarity's face
Every time that I lose my place,
I become more engaged to the wounds that I helped create
Track Name: The Human Condition
Lying in a bed of broken glass.
The solace of light starts to pass.
No oxygen to inhale, only hours of regret to continue
to spend inside my coma of detriment.

There is no truth to find.
Death consumed by deprivation.
A self created desolation.
Pull the plug, it's the only vaccination to
relinquish the life and remove the human condition.

No immortal will to stay alive.
There is no love or wonder to close the soul within its bind.
A pathology of apathy burrowing through me.
This infection will not end until nerve activity fails to send.

There is no truth to find.
Death consumed by deprivation.
A self created desolation.
Pull the plug, it's the only vaccination to
relinquish the life and remove the human condition.

Endless visions of the past reconstruct this Roman reality.
Crucified for the fictitious grace of the angel of catastrophe.

I can no longer hear the voice of faith.
Only the echoes of the past remains.

These screams carry a deafening eulogy.
My pulse slips into eternal sleep.
I cut out my eyes just to believe that it's all in my mind.
You are the concubine that eats away at my pride.
Fixating within the darkness of this decrepit existence.

Existence becomes fallacy.
Fate is nothing but a dream.
I will secrete this internal violence
within the threads of a noose.
And birth everlasting silence.

I will secrete this internal violence
within the threads of a noose.
And birth everlasting silence.

I would rather walk among the cold, pale, motionless art of death.
I would rather slit my throat than take another breath.
Because I'm living in a nightmare with fears I can't forget.
Because with every breath is another hour of regret.
Track Name: Schismatic Catalyst
Control is useless.
These lines have encased my frail being
between this solid, complex design of titanium bone.
A machine of self-infliction built into my heart.

I perceive only the darkest of shades.
I imagine a cruel reality.
I see death in every breath.
As desolation continues to surround me.
Reprogramming my system until I exist no longer an organism.

There is no identity left in me.
All DNA has been erased.
The me that I once knew has become extinct.
Left in its place is a hollow fragment of a man who could once see.
An algorithmic structure of detriment.

A worthless fucking machine.
I burn as production proceeds before me.

The one thing I can never be:
A simple unit, led senselessly to a void of simplicity and purity.
To function effective and responsive.
Never to be thrust into the containment of isolation.

My futile attempt to reconcile myself.
Proved a failure imminent,
procuring me a place in the space of sleep.
Where a smile is never found.
Where a smile is never found.

Contortionist, you have betrayed your creation of faith.
I looked to you for all the answers, but received both good and worse
But now that I have been reborn a worthless entity.
Will these visions of anguish and torment continue to lead
my disdained being into nothing?

Death lives inside of me.
Death lives inside of me.
Death lives inside of me now.

Death fucking lives inside of me
Death fucking lives-
He is the machine built into me.
Track Name: Autobiography i. Descent into Bedlam
The tides we ride are the knives we hide.
Striking the shoreline directly at its spine.
Too many bridges washed away.
No route to seek common ground for a place to stay.
A place to stay.
Behold the storm.
Caught up in a string of scorn.

We were only looking for
treasure beneath
a sulfurous sea.
Enslaving civilization
as our human submarines.
Folding up.
The picture is unclear.
Puzzling circumstance.

Circumcising pain from tears.
Woe unfolds.
A suffocating cold.
Throwing glaciers at the neglected hull.
We need saving from the aftermath.

We need saving from our birthing bath.
Vanquish these ropes, they tie to false hope.
Around the stones of temporary homes.
These bodies are drones.
Humanity is composed of clones.
Composed of clones.

But if there is no depth to their every step,
then why do these footprints stay on my chest?
Pushing against my breath.

When I told you I was sorry, I fell back.
This sea of blades rewriting the history that turned the world black.
No more light.
No more light.

We follow the siren's call through this night.
Our tears and treaties torn apart
by this gust's boundless might.
We fled on flesh and avarice.
We made this wed-locked by in a spirit's eternal kiss,
draped inside this concubous cyst.

The tides we ride are the knives we hide.
And the city's going to die.
As we call the waves closer, closer to the perch of the choir.
No lungs to scream, no chords to voice.
It was within the silence that demons rise and demons die.
No lungs to scream, no chords to voice.

It was within the silence
that I lived this wretched fuck of a lie.
Track Name: Autobiography ii. Litost
The clock is wreckage.
The hands that told every scream
run their agony between the walls of my shame.
I let it find the whirlwind's eye and crush the tide
between earth and sky.
I'm patched in the icing of a cold winter's memory.
Calling for a soul to arrive.
A purpose to keep me alive.

The clock is wreckage.
Every hour I thought I left turning back again.
These hands that held every moment run their nails
directly through my skin.
And as I let it find the source of this whirlwind life,
Rushing to consume my spine,
Caught in the backseat of what drunken suicide
this poison drives...

Frost dresses me between the threads of a cold winter's memory.
Callouses begin to form between the folds of my flesh.
I can feel my grasp on sanity begin to slip.

Open, reopen these wounds.
I must release them, release them.
Let them pour out before my eyes.
So these souls may find a home in the graves
that I've, in the graves that I've laid.
This isn't who I am, this is not your game.
Burning bridges are drowning victims that your existence erased.

I'd cut my limbs to shreds of they could feed the lungs of
the ones I've touched.
Alone with the deterrent, familiar eyes
keeping me paralyzed.
I fade away to older days in the single memory.
I wish I never memorized.
In the single memory I wish I never memorized.

Callouses begin to form
between
the folds of my flesh.
I can feel my grasp on
sanity
begin to slip.

Hope is still in love with what's lost.
Track Name: Autobiography iii. Nikolas Verhal
Ceremony, lend your hands to death.
A jovial creation from the bones of a prison cell.
Survival on a guardian's, survival on a guardian's,
survival on a guardian's breath.
Welcoming life to a funeral, welcoming life to a funeral
welcoming life to a funeral's bell.

Beneath the surface of this mask
eating away my days.
Is the proud prudent son
of famine and reprobate.
Of famine and reprobate.

You are the organic source of my hopes and dreams.
Your blood will make my dinner course while I sell the meat.
You are the organic source of my hopes and dreams.
Your blood will make my dinner course while I sell the meat.

Seconds spent in calmer moments foster the
insatiable rage.
Picking me apart like butterfly wings.
Sanity is being split at the seams.
Closer and closer, the abyss lengthens its wicked gleam.

I never understood why, why they're all alive.
Lips spread out like daises over dermal fields, serene.
But there's still a torn out page in history
that washed up to be like every fictional fantasy
locked deep in an empty soul like me.

Run for dreams, catch only air.
Reach out to the clouds while the flowers disappear.
Swelling up the landscape.
Eviscerating the seeds I've sown.

Follow meadows of demented echoes.
Walk among the swollen petals.
Dead elder flowers grow where loneliness echoes.
Where loneliness echoes.

There is a place in comatose where sparks strike like lightning
across the starless night.
It's the only blotch of white.
It's the only pitiful spite.

No matter how close this pale ghost comes and goes.
Laughing at the frantic.
Melting away like snow in snatching hands.

Watching existence from Hell's distance.
Never a finish to this business.
The curse we wave upon your name
dresses us like princes.
Dresses us like princes.

Lifted, you have become, my son.
Our rage seeps through our flesh.
Your hand is mine to count the crows circling your soul
You're running out of time.

Lay your weary head inside this bed,
for it's the one that will claim your life.

Run for dreams, catch only air.
Reach out to the clouds while the flowers disappear.

Follow meadows of demented echoes
Follow meadows of demented echoes.
Walk among the swollen petals
Walk among the swollen petals.

Watching existence from Hell.

Can you hear me, feel me?
Can you see (can you see) my face in yours, Nikolas?

Spawned to walk six feet alone.
Peeling out the walls of every home.
A screaming banshee flocking among
the shrieks of wolves.
Flooding bodies in every room.

Flooding bodies (flooding bodies).
Flooding bodies (flooding bodies).
Flooding bodies (flooding bodies).

Rectify the errors of your name.
Become the one your fears hath made.

I can quell the screeches of your bleeding,
but never the victim inside of me.
Wash your tears with a maple blade and
strike the fire against your pain.
I am a wasteland constructed of disdain.
I am the virus composing the lymphocytes of shame.

The cancer that you taste in the pouring rain.
The lies that rot through your teeth and into the chains.
Clasped on the folding limbs of sin.

I want to be born again.
I want to be born again.
I want to be born again.
I want to be born again.
I want to be born again.

I want to kill, reclaim.
Purge those souls that fled my grasp
for all those years.
You'll feel my pain, you'll taste my rain.
You can't escape the one who pursues even me.
There's no end to this apathetic madness
just another existence
that has learned to breathe deep inside of me.
I want to burn it all and watch the embers take me
Than live another existence.
In these poisoned folds of sin.

I want to be born again.
Track Name: Autobiography iv. Duende
Fear eats the flesh and all that's left.
The coffin maker and the hearse driver.
A curtain surrounding fate.
Who knew a gavel swung this great?
All I need is a concealing shade.
An autumn's leaves to bury the slate.
To cleanse the lines from my face.
To purify the tainted race.
My eyes grow cold from the ice.
The frostbite left on my insides.
The damnation assembled
will burn in its place.
It will pave the way for a new beginning
To transcend over the ending.
It will mend.

Only apparitions will be left even if they wait at my bed.
It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it.
Beyond every soul of penance.
The visages sown with seeds of pestilence.
Over the bruised, black reflection left in their soil.
Behind the hands that hold harm in greed.
Under the caste where we build our homes.
Past the ever-violent glare of treason.
That ensures our shoulders hold enough to bear.
The light we've been denied.
The sight that keeps us bind.
The will that our scars us to remind the ties to which we bind.
We shall unwind, there is a light.

I saw an angel in the rafters.
I saw an angel in the wastes.
Where there is only hell to see,
there was a heaven to be made.

I left this tomb of broken bones
and mended these storms in new homes.
I left this tomb of broken bones
and mended these storms in new homes.

I crossed out the name that choked my veins
and let the blood spill over the bastard's face.
I crossed out the name that choked my veins
and let the blood spill over the bastard's face.

As my legs began to sway
and the earth embraced my weight.
She let the soap fall onto the exit.
That I had made my last creation.
Gravity let go of me
and the air grasped my lungs.
With her harp, she had restrung
my withered song into purity.