"backspace" genre: Metalcore
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	this is a track from our new release "the deafened art of bleeding secrets automated on dead lines" on xcatalystx records. we wrote this song during the last two days before we entered the studio.
	CD: the deafened art of bleeding secrets automated on dead lines   Label: xcatalystx records
	Story Behind the Song we had originally reserved this track on the cd for one of our older songs that we were in the process of rewriting for the recording. we ended up not using any of the original parts, so it was a completely different song musically. the lyrics for the old song just didn't flow the same, so we decided that we would just make this an entirely new song. this track was written during the last two days before we entered the studio to record it. the original lyrics to the song that was supposed to be re-written were sort of romantic and hopeful, so the reference for this song was backspace (all of the song references on the new cd were named after a corresponding keyboard function). when we re-wrote everything, complete with the new lyrics, the song took on a much darker feel, and transformed more into a declaration of a bitterness towards these desires. this song expresses the belief that a lot of the sentimental melodrama and the cliche antics that take place within relationships are inspired by the incessant programming that we have all been subjected to by the bombardment of the romantic, feel-good, happy ending having films that show us the glimmering light of hope in an endless cylce of voluntary emotional grief. please take the time to read the lyrics through and devise your own interpretation. Lyrics hollywood gods birth an unrealistic perfection of tragic romance to fuel a victimized culture’s obsession with love supplantations of forever concocted by vivid imaginations poisoning the minds of our future generations by instilling a false hope’s emergence cleaving reality, they condemn us to an addiction of co-dependent expectations whoring our morals away to emulate the adulterating images of the silver screen suffering through doppelganger soul mate heartaches worshipping the supposal of finding the one this is the little lie that we tell ourselves to quench the insatiable thirst of our masochistic dreams of sweet morbidity a prelude to the inevitably awaiting agony of the endless masquerade proliferated by the influence of cinematic lusting as the dream-concealing curtains rise, the stars fade from our eyes, and on our tongues the word forever dies enacting romeo and his decimating melodramatics to soothe our rapacious hearts fancying the irrational tenet of escaping our dagger-bearing capulet-esque endings an immortal stalemate that’s been infused into our subconscious kiss by kiss the psychological dependence that fuels love’s existence

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