The Void To Which She Immigrated

by Specules



The 1st full-length release from Specules in my Black Metal-era.


released December 31, 2012

Alive (Dylan Douglas): All Instruments, Drum Programming, Vocals
Count Bitzmackh (David Jordan): Lyrics on Tracks 1 and 2



all rights reserved


Specules Santa Barbara, California

I started Specules in 2012 as an Black Metal project but over the last couple of years it has evolved to include many other genres of music. I really hate mainstream music so I find solace in creating music that is unconventional and strange, but creative and phenomenal.

- Dylan

I intend for this bandcamp to eventually have almost everything I've done musically.
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Track Name: Flesh, Blue, And False
The only red is what you feel
Perception reflects on the outside
Moon shines red as it's light
Stains the black sky.

Son of gods blood
Overwhelming my cup
Pouring to streams feeding
A red sea.

And a good man has died.
And everything dies.
Track Name: Patron Saint Of Poison
A sanguination in the dark
Desperate to see it end
You are my property
Passion is what you've been given.

Feelings are seething
Into the void of our fucked minds
Murder was the past-time
Baring witness in your silence.

Your pain is killing me
Patron saint is wearing your face
Track Name: Schematic Of A Vastly Superior Coffinwood
I'm staring up at a coffin lid
Ready to smash my way out
This wooden box cannot contain
A tenant anxious to eat out.

Corpses be my concubines
Ejaculating with each kill
Dissolving guts in a wooden box
That is my one and only meal.

So you're here and with mine to play.
I love how you're right next to me.
Pure as the land of ghosts and ghouls
Yours is the meat for which I drool.

You raise the blade, you make the change
You know all my organs by name.
It's warm inside your winter coat
We're in the grave, dead and alone.

Can't you see, we're meant to be
Bound in the grave and nothing less
Boiled phlegm as sauce for barbecue
Of roasted heads I've grown obsessed.

Limbs of whores peak out of coffins
Waiting patiently in line
To ride the new corpse of the devil
Out of the tomb, into the sky.

"Evil expressed in primordial men with desires of death on their minds. Vacuous, a void but filled with knowledge, excised from the cranium before death. Extracted secrets of soulless living bountied by ruthless deities in showers of unvisible vampiric rain. Rites of funeral ignored, the casket beckons out for the unliving. Vehicled slowly towards the hole. With precision the contraption is lowered. And in silence staring we rejoice for our schematic of a vastly superior coffinwood."
Track Name: A Battle Reflected On After A Life Of Shellshock
High above the battlefield
She unsheathes the sword
Gaze fixed on enemies
Come to wage war

Minds make war for the
Key to the dark
A self-consuming force that
Pulls them apart.

It begins again.

Oh me.
Oh my.
Wander the woods of hate
A sacred place to die.

Atop the mountain he did appear
Blessing sinners far and near
She threw his head over there
Limbs flung high into the air.
Track Name: Nitron (Case Number 39856770329672284892731244833956394628)
I had almost forgotten about him
Late at night when the terrors come
He was guilty, so guilty
But I was young and idealistic

They locked him away in a maximum security cell
Buried forty stories underground
The case was expunged from the records
Forgotten by all.

Nothing is forgotten.

Case number 39856770329672284892731244833956394628

How could you?

Immeasurable strength
And utter brutality.
Weaknesses none.

Do not, under any circumstance,
Try to reason with this villain.
Track Name: Energy Condensed To A Slow Vibration, Experiencing Itself Subjectively
"Here's Tom with the weather."