The Ghost Trainstation

by Deep-pression/Zone113

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about

Collaborative album between Deep-pression and Zone113.

Urban atmospheres,
Empty buildings,
Instinctive reactions,
Insufficient oxygen,
Obscure alienations...

credits

released December 1, 2011

Rh- - Keyboards, Artwork, Lyrics
ky - Bass, Mixing & Mastering

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Deep-pression Poland

started in 2006 by Rh- & Jan
later worked as jam band
since 2010 as duo : Rh- & ky and sessional members & guests.

Experimental ambient with various influences.


More free downloads here deeppression.altervista.org/rel.htm
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Track Name: Deep-pression - Quintessence
it's another night
when you cut your hands in fury
why you cant cut the skies from those heavy black clouds...
cut it whole in two
i swear i saw you dead walking along the seashore
i could swear
but i feel your living breath
it's not from the beyond...
i smell
smell to much
stench
has no name
it just goes down with all ideas we keep
in our heads
dont expect anything
and you will be rewarded
expect
and you will be found broken in the mud
all for the tommorows you promised to yourself

and the road of pain is just the same line
but bold
as the life
nothing can stop this great expansion of the Universe
nothing can stop Hell since it all started

you look so great in the dying moonlight
cold rays
wood crawlers - they climb up
to smell your fear
and delight...
eh sometimes ..it's the same

i stand proud while my vomits drift
drowning me
in this cold space
i dreamt
quintessence...
we dont ask now! ...
we answer!!! ... ... ...
Track Name: Deep-pression - Arrogance
take your flesh
out of my wagon
your presence stops me
your presence doesnt let me breathe

there is no time for stopping
here or anywhere
i never stop!!
have no mercy for old wounds
have no respect to the past
what counts is the pace
of all eaten stars
Track Name: Deep-pression - Suck!
i carry my sorrows
above the hills
to the white clouds
to the blue heavens'
sings a girl grasshopping through the fields

this world is just a survival
and you can try to hope for more

she carries my scythe
carrier of all wounds and relieves...
in the wasteland of those fields
where the reaping lasts
since a moment when any life started

this mind is hit with the cross
fuck all christs
fuck all gods
stop praying, stop hoping...
all will be grey or muddy-brown
in the end...
sucking your tears as the soil sucks the water