Hands Like Claws (£1​.​40)

by Meatfeast

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about

Meatfeast are a dark cocktail of absurd ideas, black humour, spasmodic aggression and strong melodies. Difficult to define, they could be considered Progressive / Avant-garde Metal or Post-hardcore. Deliberately drawing in a range of disparate influences within every song, the results are surreal musical montages.

'Hands Like Claws' is easily Meatfeast's strongest recording to date and goes a long way to defining their sound. A 2 track remix album is also available.

credits

released April 2, 2011

Produced by Tom Gittins at Monochrome Productions
www.monochromeproductions.com

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MaggotHouse West Midlands, UK

MaggotHouse delights in housing frail, unseen creatures and holding them up to the light. Enjoy

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Track Name: A Void Can Be Willed
Somebody please put me down
Where’s somewhere I can sign up?
I would just bury myself
But the dogs might dig me up

I’ll drown myself in a bowl
And prob’ly fail to drown
“Back to work slave!
Back to work!”

Lets go run through long grass,
(A passive way to get lashed)
Cut off our hands and our feet
Then go swim at the pool…

I’ll drown myself in a bowl
And prob’ly fail to drown
“Back to work slave!
Back to work!”


Lie still… lie still…
If maybe you tried hard enough,
A void can be willed
“Get up! You silly wet bitch!”


I’m busy burning your stuff
My stuff was not enough…
I’ll sit here screaming your name
To tell you “I’m OK”!

I’ll drown myself my a bowl
And prob’ly fail to drown
“Back to work slave!
Back to work!”

What is the problem with you?
Your sick is in my sandwich!
I’d rather be on my own,
To drown myself in my bowl

I lay awake last night
And learnt how not to fight
“Back to work slave!
Back to work!”

Lie still… lie still…
If maybe I tried hard enough,
A void can be willed

Stop...
No Won't!
Track Name: Domestic Violence
Rat-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-a
Rat-at-at-at-at-at-at-at-a

Ziggi! Ziggi!
Tiki! Tiki!

¡Puta! ¡Puta! ¡El qué te llama es 'Puta'!

Soaking in a bath of death
Shards of glass... such a bloody mess...
Floating... I'm the Baphomet
Social class... such a bloody mess...

What? Where?
What? Who?
What? What? What? What?
What? Huh?

We're sowing something
A seed so dark and deep
Beneath our fingernails
A Beaumont mystery

Glen Benton's on the phone
He wants to talk to thee
Says he's the Caco-Daemon
And you can't help but bleed