by Knifehand

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Recorded the Summer of 2015 on the house on Bozart Avenue. BOZART BOYZ were in full effect.


released April 18, 2017

Elizabeth Jenkins Vocal // Jon-Michael Gioe Vocal // Tony Reitz GuitarAustin Bailey Bass // Tom Roosa Drums
Recorded and mixed by Carl Byers // Clandestine Arts Recording. Mastered by Tom Roosa. Art by Tony Reitz. All songs by Knifehand ©2015.



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Knifehand Indianapolis, Indiana

Elizabeth Jenkins - Vocal // Jon-Michael Gioe - Vocal // Tony Reitz - Guitar // Austin Bailey - Bass // Tom Roosa - Drums

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Track Name: Endless
Nasty habits and razorblades that I don't bother to replace anymore.
Nights drag into days… into nights…
Not unlike my captor dragging me by the scalp on dirty damp ground covered in dead insects, filth, and broken glass slicing through parchment-thin skin.
Not unlike all those words I wish I'd said—all those words I wish I'd said.
Nasty habits and razorblades not unlike chasing shadows that might not have even existed.
Not unlike chasing shadows that never even existed.
You pour the gasoline, and I'll light the match.
Scorched earth daydreams, burial plot fantasies.
Death rattle symphony—my blood mirroring the ecstasy of my assailant.
You pour the gasoline, and I'll light that match.
Scorched earth daydreams, burial plot fantasies.
Death rattle symphony—my blood mirroring the ecstasy of my assailant.
Track Name: A Note From The Executioner
Mincing words through my teeth.
Flinching nerves like a labyrinth of barbed-wire fence.
It's just words.
The sound vibrates so fake.
The feel of our voices makes me so sick.
The desolate path we pathetically hitchhike on.
No one will be there.
No one will give you solace to your stairway elsewhere.
Fucking dust in my hands shows the promise of nothing.
You want something don't you?
The piece of time you kill for—a static moment over and over again.
Remember to keep your hands at your side because without those it's done.
Cutting the neck from your shoulders.
And who fucking cares who won?
We are all burning our eyes staring at the Sun.
Track Name: Karma for the Reaper
Curtain close.
The makeup wipes clean.
No use for those.
No need to know what anything means.
The act has been over for years.
Sickle cuts your eyes so the blood captures the tears.
Cycle of fear won't match the lightning speed as your soul gets ripped away and your family on their knees.
They will plead, beg, fight, and kill for one moment more.
The karma's cashed in and what for?
For nothing.
It's all for fucking nothing.
The man in black didn't even give your legacy a second glance, and no one will be alive to give your stand a second stance.
There is no karma only the reaper and chance.
Track Name: Anxiety Plague
It's so hard to breathe. My hands won't stop shaking. It's so hard to be in this place.
I just want to leave—after I burn it right into the ground.
Sometimes all that I can see is depression black and blood murder red.
Sometimes I cannot separate nightmares from reality.
Anxiety disorder custody biting off my tongue, pulling out my teeth.
Strip off my skin because I'm a husk of nothing.
Track Name: The Choke, the Blade, and the Weak-Minded Fool
When did the time arrive? When did she die to you?
Everyone loses and everyone grieves.
Before the choke, a weak-minded fool was born.
He was born empty handed, because she held the blade… and she cut her skin to give way to real and actual pain.
A dark story writer—believer in some made-up catastrophe.
And choking her pale would tell the rest of his pathetic False. Fucking. Fairy Tale.
And it's written like this…
Carved into your forehead and bled, so it spells, "Weak minded-fool,” so everyone can tell that your skin amounts to the value of this homeless grave.
You belong here, until a person of worth takes your place.
Even as dead as you are you will never save face.
You'll  be forgotten the minute after the soil fills your lungs.
And the words that you wrote will never be sung by the angels that shove you face first into the flames.
She will bleed your neck with the blade so that you choke and die in her eyes just the same.