Spectres from New Puritans by Cavillers

A resonant, coarse howl decays and vacates a packed intersection. Scattered spectators observe, paralysed by a vocal inflection. Tormented souls without repast. The failing founding fathers passed. The scenery disguised the view. An audience determined to lose sight of this. To induce withdrawal and resign to the apocryphal. Persistent spectres soon displaced by the apparitions we embrace. Content to render ourselves blind, desperate to blot out the light. The visions we can bare won’t disclose all that’s there. How many masks of woeful bone are seeking to obviate the cold? And how many diamond sutras pacify their desperate souls? Senses withdrawn as judgements fall on all but the most trivial. The righteous left to assign blame and incite a generation’s shame. Do you feel a stranger in your own skin, or the hollow presence of a phantom limb? Warped by the streets that seek forgiveness for your grief. But, sanity and competence belies desire and consequence. A temporary offering, but isn’t it all?

• Punk
• melodic hardcore
• punk rock
• rock
• Sunderland