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A Neutral Second

by East Of The Wall

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1.
You’ll know when their work is done - you won’t foresee, but you’ll be aware. Head down, and your mouth is shut. Don’t be noticed. Don’t believe. Out cold when their work is done - bruised and bloodied, running scared. Too bold, now you’re overrun. Newly humbled, so retreat. If a hapless mind could shrug enough to care, I’d bet it’s on who gave them a rise. It’s emotional, the raised fist, afraid - armed near your home, or by your side. Stand clear, and don’t let them in.... Is he pride and faith, naif recruit? Or apostasy in zealot’s suit? Does it really matter in this encounter? Are they here, or are they far? I don’t trust me, so I will hide away…. Is it clear? Are they gone? I’ve been rusty. So I will hide away and regret all. Does it really matter? Is he wronged, enraged, and out for blood? Or does he itch for blades and hunt for fun? Does it really matter? Now their prey has scattered. "We're glad to; it's enough to break. If we have to, it's enough to say we could see you cry." Do not cry, we have some work to do. Line up higher; brace the wall. Rend your backbone. Fill your lungs with smoke. Breathe a fire to singe the frame of night. It’s not hopeless. Dig your feet and shunt. Push the pillars to climb and roar. It’s warming. Now who’s the hunted one? We are pyre, and we’ll burn frost and thaw. It’s a rising tide, and it burns and tears. Set my hands alight. It’s emotional, and we’ll see who’s scared, and who’s on your side. Is he wronged, enraged, and out for blood? Or does he itch for blades and hunt for fun? Does it really matter? If a hapless mind could shrug enough to care, I’d bet it’s on who gave them a rise. It’s emotional, the raised fist, afraid - armed near your home, or by your side.
2.
Fawning 06:55
Held back by a half a mind’s concern. You can only bury this urge so long, and calls deserve response. So when a message is just a man with no abstraction to hide behind, rip through full force. The pain is worth it. The panic you feel, you’ll control. The strain from comfort, the churn in your soul is honorable. “Enough.” These are the limits you’re learning. “Enough.” Or is it worthiness' yearning? “Get away, run.” It’s enough to drown a voice. That internal noise - for just one minute, it yells and the moment’s passed. Once in a while there’s a pause. It’s not much, but it’s enough. In that gap, there’s enough: There’s a shot if you’re not terrified to move through. With the car down the sights of a fledgeling fawn - the chamber in hoof, the trigger pulled. The tire explodes and it skids off road. Headlights blink out. These are the limits they’re learning - too much, too late. The lordly magistrate can only force so much before we burst out, before we raze this town. Startled but relieved how much they’re willing to concede once they’re run down. Can we smoke them out? Outnumbered and confounded - stupefied. Rout, joust, volley through all quarters while there’s time to. There’s a shot if you try. You’re not scared - you’re terrified. But with a wound exposed, the rest is prone to fold. With wounded hooves ensnared, we will burst out: nervous and in doubt. So loud, the verve of bluff we shout. Startled but relieved how much they’re willing to concede once they’re run down. Let’s just smoke them out. Release is so much better. I just won't regret it. I’m just not regretting it. Now they won’t forget it. An act is better in view. The sun is setting, and soon. I just won’t regret it. I just won’t regret it. I just won’t regret it. I’m just not regretting it. I just won’t regret it. Now they won’t forget.
3.
Instrumental
4.
Keep in front. And all that running, all that hurry, it’s a bleeding ulcer. All that fright that churns up from under - I keep up high to not ever notice. For miles, we were blurring everything. In a trial run, I keep on running until I’m tired, gone. For miles, we were burning everything. It takes fuel to make you go. To ignite, you spark the flint with bone. The launch explodes. To get a lift you torched your soul. To get a rise, you fanned the flames below. You’re consumed with the wood and coals. When fuel is up, isn't it nice to have a runway to ground? It doesn't come easy, I guess. Gravity pulling you down. An orbit like chains around your neck. Once more, back toward…
5.
Wait until they drown. The shouts have stopped and tension is calmed. A wake upon the sound. A single guest. They never were found. They clawed marks upon your skin. Still you let that tension in. One in the water; two on the shore. Flee, then you barter. Culling all the stores. Spun in the waters. Drew on the floor markings, like epigraphs, on corners of the doors. A wraith, cold in ground, stirs in bonds and yearns for the psalm. Reached, heart still in hand. It seeps up through the dirt of the mound. They clawed marks upon your skin. The days turn around, and you let the tension in. “Nice try.” Easy for you to say. Tongue-tied, but you walked it back anyway. You let the tension in. One in the water; two on the shore.
6.
Well, what do you know? It’s all erased: all just wiped from the timeline. What was it? We saw it fade. We saw it gray. We saw it. “Deception!” It’s all you cried. You swore, “it’s not me” with all you’ve got. Some blight memory that’s all in knots. Some naked pain you swore away to fake it. Deception, it’s all. You cried. Isn’t this like it’s fun? Ignore what weighs us down like it’s fine - just like it helps. And then it swells. Gaining speed, it grips like wires - taut and strained. I’m defeated. A bed of iron calling. Notions I’ve held, now all withered, wrecked. Splayed out, mired mostly by my own earned wage. So ingrained, it’s like a dire weed. It’s only motive: infection. Sewing seeds that grow defiantly, downward stream, directional. So shoulder it. If you blink the whole room shakes. And the ground, it swells. And around your crown, you hear… “ye unaware, we could shake the eyes out your head. and make you wake with one refrain.” The persistent ache. The pursuer stays: grim confidant with a grudge to bear and a stone to grind. It’s coming. Incoming fast. “I can be just anyone. I can flee with everything. Just before we’re falling in, pad the crash with everyone. I could float just hovering, just above the breadth. It doesn’t matter. Torch skies and tear away from the pleas lost echoing. Justified by evidence - what names me by my…” It’s blurred, all. Just elucidate what paths I’ve kept. Soft halls muddled by some rights I made as lefts. Pace slowed dragging any foot that may have slept. Caught. Dragged, evidence has named me by myself. Deceit is all your guise. Dissolve away. I guess I’m fooled. Now defeat - it’s all you’ve got. It’s over and now I’m not who I am. Relief - it’s only innocence. So smother it, if just to simply function. I’m not who I am.
7.
Long gone, strong calling. Their path came with warnings. They passed with bold intention. Put that smile away as you grasp, determined. Grip with all you’ve got - your upward arc sways. It gets harder near the top, you knew. But it’s not the same. It’s not where you planned for defeat. Not from above - the pull’s sourced downward bound. But it blocks, all in all, the same. As always. Marked up, broad target held down by vengeful egos; castigated, censured. Keep your head down but defiant. The defiant price. The wolves you feared so well may get proud and give their game away. Put that smile away. As you grasp, determined. Give with all you’ve got - your upward arc stays. It gets warmer near the top, you heard. And it’s not the same. It’s not what you hoped or believed. Not enviable - you’re still sore, waylaid, bound. But you claw, on and on, the same as always still. Unphased and resilient, the hordes return as you kick and you climb. Some break, but there’s no one who envies the ones who'll survive and survive. Some live, but it’s no life that you would envy just to survive and survive.
8.
Forward as a rule. If there’s lights, you saw a landing. Coast right by. “All hands!” We crashed borders. We can never be slowed. We’ve a payload in tow. Desperate trip, cling for life to the ship, the long way down. Design won’t help if there’s nowhere to go and the engines have blown. Endless brink, ever further to sink the whole way down. Oh lord, we’re sunk deep and mired. So climb hands over feet, kick them in the eyes. Don’t push me - everyone’s all hands now. What did I ever do? I could get out. if you’d just stay still. I’ll use your heads for ground. Sorry, sorry. I’ll come back, I swear. “Into black as pitch; circle spins it kneads. It needs. Teeth catch gaining ground here as we are ground, crushed pulp to powder - dust to dust, devoured. All but hands, now raised once in praise. Pleading. Pleading. Pleading.” I promised peace on swords. Let the glory unfold. Let the bounty be sown. Lift the scaffold and throne….it all burned down. I can't stand the sight of it. I worried. I tried. I swear I had the right of it. More time might have solved, right? Still I swear I will find a way.

credits

released June 30, 2023

A Neutral Second was written, arranged, and performed by East of the Wall.

Seth Rheam - Drums
Chris Alfano - Bass, Guitars, Synths, Programming, Vocals
Matt Keys - Guitars, Synths
Matt Lupo - Guitars, Trumpets, Synths, Vocals
Greg Kuter - Guitars, Vocals

Soundscapes on “Spite of Icarus” and “Momentum Mori” by Rolando Alvarado. Percussion on “Spite of Icarus” by Mike Somers. Additional vocals on “Autosomal Recessive” written and performed by Craig Cirinelli. Additional vocals on “Unfamiliar Glass Ceiling” performed by Joe Pfeiffer and Craig Cirinelli. Additional vocals on “Hegemony’s Dilemma” written and performed by Martin Howth.

Recorded by Chris Alfano at Volume Fact. Mixed by Scott Evans at Antisleep Audio, except “Reclamation Rites” mixed by Chris Alfano at Volume Fact. Mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege.

Cover artwork by Bryan Olson. Layout by Fabian Bremer.

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East Of The Wall Keyport, New Jersey

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