Wee Chapel of the Dawn- Ceremony

by George Daniel Lovecraft

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1.
2.
She is a junkie and a crackhead. She visits her boyfriend at his flat. She knows he cannot hear. She will wait till he is turned away, or sleeping. The other men will come in together and go up the stairs to his bed. They will fuck her. It is not gentle, and it is not loving, and often she will bleed, but they may give her money. She will wait till they are done, then get up slowly, and head out onto the street to score her fix. If she is ripped off, she must repeat this. He has a heroin habit too. He goes to rehab, eventually. He gets clean. In 32 years, he has never been able to get off drugs before. He is vulnerable. [He is vulnerable. He is vulnerable. He is vulnerable.] Her previous boyfriend was successful. He spent his money on alcohol. He would often beat her. She stayed with him. She wanted children. [She stayed with him.] She is pretty, and cultured, and artistic. She does become a mother, in the end. She sleeps next to her new- born child in bed. Her boyfriend returns late [on] from his business dealings. [Drunkenly, in the night, he rolls across and suffocates their baby beneath his weight.] She spent her early life on the continent. Her family is rich and aristocratic. They are well respected. They have private lives. They are drawn to what they should not be. Not long after she is born, the rituals begin. Her first memories are of hands, and wet knives, and pain. She has a large family. They knew her well. All of them. [All of them.] He was an actor. He reads many books. He plays guitar. He paints. He writes. He studies philosophy, andscience, and psychology in his free time. He is a practising Pagan. He went to a party. He bought what he was told was LSD. [He was not prepared.] His friends were gone. Goaded by others, he imagined insects crawling in his ears. He was scared, and by himself; locked in the dark. With steel wires, he poked out his own ear-drums to make them go away. Opportunity did not come easily. He could no longer act. He could not hear. He burgled a house when the occupants were out. He was caught and imprisoned. The system placed him in the medical block due to his auditory difficulties. There were others there, with other difficulties.On his first night, he was raped many times. 6 months later he was released. He was 17. He takes heroin now. He works cash- in-hand, every day. They will underpay him. They know he needs the money. He begs. Outside a train station, a member of the public passes him sat on the ground, and kicks out all his teeth. He loves his girlfriend. He knows what she has to do. He has tasted their semen in her vagina. [Once or twice he will mention his uncle. He has many memories. Many memories.] He kills himself by overdosing; in rivers of blood. [He kills himself by overdosing]; in rivers of blood. [He kills himself by overdosing]; in rivers of blood. [He kills himself by overdosing; in rivers of blood.] He is known as a junkie. In 32 years he has never overdosed on gear. Others tried the same batch. It was not tainted. It is easier for those left not to know. They were Christians. They cremated him accordingly. He was my best friend for over 9 years. He was a human being.
3.
Badly Painted Dream Waste words disgrace out of lashing lips Sweating the scents of your twisting spit The flame of my days parades crows’ feet Itchy jawbone buried in my seeping meat In my seeping meat Hacking up dysphoria to squirt across each cyst Teeth against the afterbirth of everything you've missed Choking through the sickness screamed beneath a red-raw tide The throbbing of syringes thrust behind a virgin eye The throbbing of syringes thrust behind a virgin eye This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream Set loose the chewing machine Oblivion will steal the scene Set loose the chewing machine Courting cold illuminates a creeping denial That stitches up the curtains of a consciousness with smiles Asinine with pleasure Pulling wings off wilder flies The knuckles of each minute grinding grazes on the sky The knuckles of each minute grinding grazes on the sky A shadow-sainted scab world of assorted swine Rooting in the guts that gash the innocence of mind Psychophobic platitudes where empathy is dead So stick my middle fingers though the holes in your own heads Stick my middle fingers though the holes in your own heads This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream Set loose the chewing machine Oblivion will steal the scene Set loose the chewing machine This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream… This is a badly painted dream… This is the blood that paints my dreams From black veins of reality A concrete floor cracks off each knee To children's laughter through the trees
4.
Stock Tossing back veracity For virus-tight toxicity Your self-appointed wards to be Messiahs raised on cattle feed Aborts your cores and overloads Your stinking quicklime whore hearts raw But slick in line to learn to crawl This puerile world baptises all But slick in line to learn to crawl This puerile world baptises all Skim the crow-bait catalogue while sipping déjà vu Watching people Watching people Withering the sky Ripping words from faces Bleeding babies Blooded eyes Then prime the scream kaleidoscope And scatter pretty alibis Throbbing Sweating Scoring boredom Copulate and deviate Affected charm collapses Hollow heads delight in pain Holy carnival of chaos Just one coin to play again Vivisect this bastard art Trade 7 billion bruises in the dark Trade 7 billion bruises in the dark Pre-packaged splinters split your hands As over-nourished egos pound And undeveloped artisans Switch off supported dreams in mounds Disjointed memories writhe inside One soiled solution splayed on stone Maintain the mainframe thrones unbroken Flogging souls for front row tokens Flogging souls for front row tokens Flogging souls for front row tokens Skim the crow-bait catalogue while sipping déjà vu Watching people Watching people Withering the sky Ripping words from faces Bleeding babies Blooded eyes Then prime the scream kaleidoscope And scatter pretty alibis Throbbing Sweating Scoring boredom Copulate and deviate Affected charm collapses Hollow heads delight in pain Holy carnival of chaos Just one coin to play again Vivisect this bastard art Trade 7 billion bruises in the dark Trade 7 billion bruises in the dark Trade 7 billion bruises in the dark Your spittle-lips are threshing tar This bleak machine screams out wet noise Whilst all around a rash of stars Acerbic pyres of hands destroy Each frontline faith assembles failure Freedom leaks from battered skulls

about

This is fury and rhythm to be released onto the world. Whiplash inducing snare drums, cold steel pipes, black lung breathing, dissonant tension, undulating serpentine bass, detuned key stabs, the shock and awe of a martial colossus, and the crushing mechanical rhythms of a machine, hellbent on pulverising your humanity. This is rage and rhythm.

Five years in the making, this album documents something primal- man's own need to sacrifice man.

This is The Ceremony.
This is The Sacrifice.
This is Wee Chapel of the Dawn.

" I've heard my own work referred to as a stream of darkness in the cold light. If that is that case, Wee Chapel of the Dawn is a raging cataract of deep, caustic rage and pain, thick with bloody echoes of the current time, and silted with sadness and stark regret. In this ferocious industrial album - an aubade for shattered Reason - the man behind Wee Chapel marshals his own grim, stoic formations and releases them in waves of relentless, pounding metal; vicious, sinister synth-noise, and a blizzard of pitiless martial atmospherics. This is electronic music for the endzeit, the frail bones of love cast like charms into its black waters, in preparation for a gathering storm."

-Ben Power, Vore Complex/ Bleach for the Stars

Note: I have this release set as free for digital download. If you download without paying, I ask that you share on social media and like the facebook page to support in other ways.

credits

released August 18, 2019

Vocals and Lyrics on 'Serious Points' , "Stock", and "Badly Painted Dream" by Ben Power of Vore Complex/Bleach for the Stars. Support Vore Complex for his brand of caustic "Endzeit Industrial". Without his support, enthusiasm, and critical listening, this release would not be what it is.

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George Daniel Lovecraft Spokane, Washington

George Daniel Lovecraft- Spokane, Washington based creator of original Lovecraftian horror synth.

For business inquiries, email georgedaniellovecraft@gmail.com

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