Wake up, son. The dream is over.
Wake up now. The sirens are calling us.
The horizon burns red. A swarm eclipses the sun.
The horizon burns red where the four horsemen ride.
Can you hear the tide rising?
The apocalypse sounds like the engines of old bombardiers.
All the trumpets of heaven announcing the end of an age.
This is the planning of chaos, the ultimate madness;
a flight in formation in honor to the lady of death.
Can you see our home crumbling?
The apocalypse sounds like the engines of old bombardiers.
All the trumpets of heaven announcing the end of an age.
Wake up, son. The ground was torn apart in columns of fire.
Wake up now. The gates of hell are open to all of us.
Fusing ’90s metalcore, ’00s vaporwave, and ’20s cybergrind, the Texans' debut showcases an unprecedented unholy trinity. Bandcamp New & Notable May 17, 2023