Opus BridgeReligious Bleeding
Dark Rock HyperLink
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song created                                

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
song updated                               

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
stations playing this song              
KarnalEcho Rock
Huminuh's Harder Side Finds
Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 2
IndieMusicPeople

 















The song contains layered guitars from Tim Frudenberg and about 5 vocal tracks from Gabriel Wolf. This is one of the darkest songs upon the album.

all music by Opus Bridge (copyright Opus Bridge 2004-05) Lyrics by Gabriel Wolf (copyright 2005)

To all that pretends to be what it clearly is not. Religious Bleeding emits the frustration that can be found easily when considering groups who are following without a clear mind, without knowledge. A lack of perception and following blindly are also what brings out the rage that is let loose at the end of the track.
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Craving something, gaining nothing
Hearing many, distant voices
Mouth`s open, lies undone
Cooking turkey in it`s own juices

Not too long, not feeling
Can`t listen, no healing
Frustration, you beckon
I follow, you swallow

The risen
It wasn`t enough to make them bleed
The risen
Couldn`t hurt to let them leave

My brothers, and sisters
Tall orders in buffers
Your sanction is desecrated
Dark shadows bringing curses

gods crosses in broken pieces
Retribution on true sacrifices
Holy water, bathing infants
Not conscious of `holy` orders

Collapse inside, wither and die x
Song Comments

Huminuh's Harder Side Finds
One of my favorite rockin bands from the UK


Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 2
On his majesty, who was, or often feigned to be, noticeably longsighted from green youth and had been meaning to inquire what, in effect, had caused yon causeway to be thus potholed, asking substitutionally to be put wise as to whether paternoster and silver doctors were not now more fancied bait for lobstertrapping honest blunt Harom- phreyld answered in no uncertain tones very similarly with a fear- less forehead: Naw, yer maggers, aw war jist a cotchin on thon bluggy earwuggers. Our sailor king, who was draining a gugglet of obvious adamale, gift both and gorban, upon this, ceasing to swallow, smiled most heartily beneath his walrus moustaches and indulging that none too genial humour which William the Conk on the spindle side had inherited with the hereditary whitelock and some shortfingeredness from his greataunt Sophy, turned to- wards two of his retinue of gallowglasses, Michael, etheling lord of Leix and Offaly and the jubilee mayor of Drogheda, Elcock, (the two scatterguns being Michael M. Manning, protosyndic of Waterford and an Italian excellency named Giubilei according to a later version cited by the learned scholarch Canavan of Can- makenoise), in either case a triptychal religious family symbolising puritas of doctrina, business per usuals and the purchypatch of hamlock where the paddish preties grow and remarked dilsydul- sily:


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