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Stone Guardian

by Dislich

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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

    Poster and lyrics sheet included.
    Purchasable with gift card

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  • Stone Guardian CD (SOLD OUT!)
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Hand-screened compact disc emblazoned with the the Sigil of Dislich esoterically constructed to conjure the spirit of the 263rd emanation. A folded paper case bearing the image of the Stone Guardian protects the disc from baleful corruption. Limited run of 35.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Stone Guardian via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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  • St. Teresa T-shirt (SOLD OUT!)
    T-Shirt/Apparel + Digital Album

    Inspired by Lorenzo Bernini's baroque masterpiece, St. Teresa writhes in divine pleasure in an erotic rejection of the banal carnality of patriarchal modes of power. All shirts are grey with black printing and are available in small, medium, and large. Other sizing and coloring options accommodated upon request though additional charges may apply. Text reads:

    DISLICH

    IDAHO CUNT-PUNK DEMON BEAT SIGIL-GRIND 263

    Includes unlimited streaming of Stone Guardian via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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  • Dislich Back Patch (SOLD OUT!)

    Hand-screened on exciting rainbow fabric. Patch measures 9" x 13".

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1.
rats have been eating our insides for so long! when they've sated their hunger they whisper sweet nothings in our ear their honeycoated vocals are a poison in our mind. i remember being held in their sway. a ghost of an angel or of a demon or of a god haunts me in my sleep a vestige of the wasted time in my past. i hope there's a god-sized hole in hell! sweat runs down my spine as we're writhing in excess his holy hallucinations, taking over me. I'll touch myself in his name dust is gathering in heaven and I imagine his lonely wrath. There's a god-sized hole in hell. the flies are gathering on his flesh and all the rats have been poisoned one by one with music and drink. waiting in the shadows, the devil sings softly to himself, humming a hopeful hymn. our descent will be kept in the light raise your hands to god. Hosannah. burn his effigy on high! god-sized hole in hell!
2.
withering cunt, withering cunt, withering cunt kiss me with those wrinkled lips, i can see you smile as you tell me that i am wrong. please spit in my face i'm so turned on by your kind hands. at my throat please guide me in your righteous ways, throw me a parade, write a song in my name. i am just a sack of eggs for your guiding hand to twist. i am just a feminist writhing in this psychic bliss. i am just a piece of shit waiting to be told, what, to, do i don't want to be feminine i don't want to be saved anti the Self. please fuck me with your phallic cunt until pleasure until pain. i am your slave.
3.
the pyramid rose in the shadow of the sun. stone height a sigil to the stars and our ancestors. reverent, excavation of blood knowledge. the stars cast their pale lights dancing. unnaturally. our flying kin are oft here. a cleansing ritual at the site of the seventeen lost pyramids. painting the sand with our spilled blood and perfumed oils. we wait in solemn loneliness for the sign of your return creators we are still prisoners of hope. at the summit of this mountain. my naked body pressed against the pillar of their temple is chilled by... reverent thought of their future presence. i'll burn a candle and quietly scour ink. the scrying glass glows cold and the sand blows. no mirage can fool our wicked sight. here as we wait.
4.
cold, sweat and the taste of bile in my mouth. the page is blank and no deed is done. nausea creeps and its a sour winter of words meant to stay. how visceral is the taste of blood. Is that profound enough to be sung? on my knees the shadows stretch across the pitted surface of snow naked but for this piss-stained coat that I found on the road a twilight blue falls as I'm walking and walking counting the lines on my hand both creased crossed my palm and writ in ink how can I write something worth saying when ink that I use is blood and piss and shit. maybe I will swallow it instead! there are no words
5.
Invocation 02:28
6.
Peasant 04:41
ox blood and grave mould. scent of woman and the soil shoved beneath her nails are a crescent moon. i see her reflected in the lake at twilight. only bread, water, and hate keep me alive. but for the ske-le-ton grin of his yellowed teeth, i sin and i sin. I'm just going to keep breathing in. our shadows dance in the firelight. cast against the wall in the pale twilight. sex and pale skin. please let me in. his fingers catch in my matted wet hair. mud covers lust, covers sight, rolling in fallow fields we are caught between the ruts. the leaves whispering of our presence they are falling apart. so am I. cover my naked body in posies for i'm un-clean. cleanse my naked feet in ashes from sins the dandelion's kiss on the blood from my mouth stings so sweet, clings so soft. these harrowed hearts. these fallow fields .these furrowed brows. this hollow zeal.

about

Sigil Grind Demon Beat 263

credits

released April 16, 2013

Melissa Finley - Vocals
Solomon Reid - Guitar
Joseph Guerra - Guitar
Cru Manzer - Bass
Ryan Beitz - Drums

All songs written and recorded by Dislich at CTRL Force HQ:

1108 S Main St
Moscow, ID 83843
USA

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Control Force

Northwest attack.

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