OPEN WOUNDS DEMO

by Paroxysm

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    OUT NOW! - MAY 13th - 2016

    Limited run of 50 copies.
    Our first ever recording - comes with free digital download and lyric sheet.

    Includes unlimited streaming of OPEN WOUNDS DEMO via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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03:05
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03:40
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02:56
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5.

about

Recorded March 27/2016 at Studio @ in Edmonton, AB

Our cover picture depicts the church on site at the St Bernard Residential School located in Grouard, Alberta.
From 1939 until 1962 it operated as part of the Indian Act in which two generations were required to attend.
My mother and her siblings were the second generation to spend part of their childhood in a residential school. They went to the St Bernard Residential School.
The significance of this building in my life is monumental.
It is where they took my family’s pride in culture, language, and history.
It is where colonial genocide took its last sharp swing at my family along with many others and succeeded.
It is where they took the love and innocence of children and turned it into hate and trauma.
The trauma and PTSD caused by these institutions has had many intergenerational effects and can be seen in every community across the country.
The intergenerational trauma that has come as a result of what was done in this building has had a major part in my mental health issues throughout my life.
It is my deep-rooted shame in self.
It is the separation from my culture.
It is holding myself to white standards.
It is where my culture died, but my body remained.
It is my trauma.
It is my vision of hell.

- Chris

credits

released May 13, 2016

Holly - Vox
Robin - Guitar
Alex - Guitar
Brendan - Bass
Chris - Drums

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about

Paroxysm Edmonton, Alberta

Paroxysm: between us we have 13 cats total

Stay punk.

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Track Name: OPEN WOUNDS
Stolen life on stolen land
Collapsing here like grains of sand
Inequity embodied while these bodies decay
The hourglass is empty
There is no time of day
No radar blip, no sound alarm
What insolent pigs who run this farm
Cold blooded racist system
entrenched with vile hate
A legacy of open wounds
Tomorrow is too late
Track Name: SPIT
You've poisoned their minds
with hatred and lies
Your ignorance and bigotry
is heroic in their eyes
What kind of filth puts a child on front lines?
You hide behind their innocence
Maybe one day they will see
You are the enemy
My body is not where you will practice your religion
My womb is not a storage unit for your fucking children
Your semen is worth no more
than spit/ swallow/ abort as I see fit
Track Name: SKIN JACKET
Merciless steel jaw
Clamps down on your leg
You scream for hours
You cry for days
You long for shelter
No one is coming to save you
Thirst, hunger, fear grow stronger
They will come
watch you take
your last breath
they want to wear your skin
Your own flesh stands
between life and death
So desperate now
you sink your teeth in
They will smash your skull to pieces and wear your fucking skin
Track Name: WHITE PICKET FENCE
It has to start with me
It has to start with you
Look beyond the white picket fence
See the world and it's ugly truth
Democracy fails
Corruption prevails
People want change
Resistance remains
Met with violence and fear of death
Fighting to live, voices held captive
No food to spare
No medical care
Homes lay in waste
A culture erased
Displaced and freezing in the cold of night
You have the privilege to ignore their plight
They don't want to tear down your fence
Your rotting white picket fence
Track Name: THE SICKNESS REMAINS
All the money in the world cannot buy back the dead
Or ease the pain and suffering of those on which you tread
Nor will it release the grip of hateful fear you spread
All the money in the world cannot buy back the dead
Daddy died overseas left you and mommy all alone
That military pension barely paying for your home
There's a life that's blown to bits with every dollar spent
All the money in the world cannot buy back the dead
Freedom from capitalist reign
Freedom from a life lived in vain
Economic slavery with nothing to gain
Time disappears
Sickness remains
You take their culture, land, and lives
Five hundred years of genocide
Apologies and dollar signs
are the holes in which you hide
$ Two billion more excuses
for what remains unsaid
That all the money in the world cannot buy back the dead
All the money in the world cannot buy back the dead
No wrong can be made right with the money that you spend
You can buy the tools to dig your graves
and live your lives as corporate slaves
But all the money in the world cannot buy back the dead