All songs written by Lamb Of God
Sony/ATV Songs, LLC/Subtle Arts Of Publishing (BMI)
Produced and Mixed by Machine
Drums recorded by Josh Wilbur and Machine
at Spin Recording Studios, Long Island City, NY
Pro-Tools by Josh Wilbur and Richard Stoltz
Assisted by Jim Feeney
Guitars recorded by Josh Wilbur,
Ian Whalen and Machine
at Sound Of Music, Richmond, VA
Additional Editing and assistance by Jim Feeney
Assistants: Jeremy Miller and Brian Hoffa
Vocals recorded at The Machine Shop, Hoboken, NJ
Assisted by Jim Feeney
Additional Production/Mix by Machine
at The Machine Shop, Hoboken, NJ
Mastered by Brian Gardner
at Bernie Grundman Mastering, Hollywood, CA
Except "Redneck"
Mastered by Vlado Meller
at Sony Studios, NYC
Scott Greer, Cheryl Valentine, Charlie Walk, Ryan Santomauro, Danny Lockwood, Brian Celler, Allison Hagendorf, Harvey Leeds, John Hering, Tim Heslin, Janet Rubin, Sean Evans, Jeff Pitts, Jeff Cohen, EJ, Dan Fitzgerald, David Allen, Ken Adams, Joe Hibbs @ Mapex Drums, Kevin Radomski @ Pro-Mark Sticks, Karen and Darrell @ Axis Percussion, Chris Brewer & Norbert Seamann @ Meinl Cymbals, Chris Brady @ Aquarian Drum Heads, Craig Costigan and Framus, Kim Graham @ Gibraltar Hardware, John Walker & Brian McDonald @ Jackson Guitar, Allen Steelgrave & Sylvia Hakopian @ ESP Guitar, Dave Cowles @ GHS Strings, David Leinhardt @ Dean Markley Strings, Tim McKee @ Mesa-Boogie, Ltd., John Ferrante @ Planet Waves, Kellie @ Seymour Duncan, Kristy Jo @ Sennheiser, Doug @ Tour Supply, Tech 21 NYC, Bert @ Intune Guitar Picks, EMG pickups, Tacoma Basses, Metal Maria Ferraro, Jensen Lee, Brian Rocha
Julie Adler for her timeless love, trust, patience, support, passion and inspiration. I am lost without you. My immediate and extended family for their never-ending support and encouragement. The LOG Crew and family: Larry Mazer, Tamra Feldman, Jody Mazer, Tim Borror, Leah Peterson, Doug Spangenberg, Machine, Bozz Porter, Mikey B, Jay Chiari, Larry Clubb, Chris Ramming, Evie Carrano, Angie Cooper, Dusty Simmons, Dennis Solomon, Jesse Barnes, James Adler, Skillet, Paul Booth, Ed Gold, Steve Fenner, John Murden and Frank Warren. My Brothers in Arms - John Campbell, Willie Adler, Mark Morton and Randy Blythe. The bands and crews that we know as friends. Our fans and friends around the world that support, believe in and care enough to treat us fairly. "Leaders are made, they are not born. They are made by hard effort, which is the price which all of us must pay to achieve any goal that is worthwhile." -Vince Lombardi
I'd first like to thank my beloved wife, Brandy Adler for being the most beautiful, generous, and loving woman I've ever met. You are my soul-mate and my source of strength, may there never be a day that I'm without your guidance and love, you truly are my angel and the love of my life, always and forever. Our son Tres for always showing me that I've still got a lot to learn and constantly keeping me on my toes, I love you both with all my soul, and will always do everything in my power to keep you safe, happy, and surrounded with love. My folks, Jim and Pat Adler for their never ending support and love. I thank you and love you with all my heart. H.C. and Carole Hopkins and the entirety of the Hopkins clan for their generous love and support as well, for family truly is the only means that will carry us through the tribulations of this life. My brother Chris for never failing to amaze and impress me, without you, this path would not have been the one I chose to follow. My brother Jamey, for always lightening up any situation and for keeping family so dear to his heart. John, Randy and Mark, for the constant inspiration and entertainment, may we keep this fire ablaze until its light has lost its intensity. Machine, the ever impressive, multi-tasking, ingenious individual that we are so fortunate to call our producer, thank you for everything, make sure Ike knows the pleasures of banana pudding. Ian Whalen, my personal engineer, for sticking it out with me when we thought all was doomed, thank you. Rich, Josh, and Jim for all of your contributions to the project, without you this wouldn't have been possible. Larry Clubb, Bozz Porter, Jay Chiari, Mikey B., Evie Carrano, Angie Cooper, Jesse Barnes, for making life on the road as enjoyable as possible; thank you for all your hard work and support, I am grateful to call you all my friends. Doug Spangenberg, my mummy buddy for life, you're the best Dougie, and a brilliant dvdographer, I'm lucky to call you my friend. All the bands we've had the privilege of sharing a stage with; thanks for the hours of entertainment and the lasting friendships.I'll cherish them for years to come. Larry Mazer, Tamra Feldman and everyoneat Entertainment Services Unlimited, thank you for all that you have done for us throughout the years. . All those at GHS Strings for their support and incredible strings.Everyone at Seymour Duncan for the very best in pick-ups. Maria Ferraro and Adrenaline P.R.,( if you don't know who Maria is, you don't know metal). Everyone at Epic records that truly believe in us and who we are, you know who you are, thank you.If I happened to forget you, it wasn't intentional. Peace outside.
My wife Emily, my family, bandmates, our crew, Jesse Barnes, Doug Spangenberg, Larry Mazer, Tamra Feldman, Tim Borror, Jeff Cohen, Machine Freeman, Jim Feeny, Josh Wilbur, Ian Whalen, Tim McKee, Brian McDonald, David Leinhardt, Kevin Young, our Fans, Richmond, VA, RPG, ATP, Suzukiton, Skillet, The Bopst Show on WCLM 1450AM M-F 1-4, my regular poker folks, Buck Futler, good-boy Balut and my sweet Angelina.
My wife Cynthia Cole Blythe, for her love and patience despite my faults. You are more important to me than anything else in the world. I love you honey. My family. My friends- ya'll know who you are. Anyone in this world with half a brain and worthy of respect.As for the rest of you, (that being 99.99999999% of humanity) you are a disease on this planet, festering and rank. You are killing the earth. If I had a genetic bomb that would exterminate you all, I would drop it now. Take a look around at the world we live in- ya'll have fucked it up and you have no one to blame but yourselves. To paraphrase Marcus Aurelius Antonius: "Don't fear death, because it's comin' anyway bitch cakes. Instead fear never having truly lived." BANZAI, MOTHERFUCKERS!
My beautiful Karrie Lynn for our love and our life... you've shown me how good it can be, I love you;my family for strength and guidance every day of my life; Chris, John, Randy and Willie for an amazing ride; Machine for dedication, vision, good times and killer sounds; Doug Spangenberg... the 6th Lamb; Larry Mazer... you're like a professor to me, man... it's truly a blast to work with you.;Tamra Feldman for tireless commitment; Jeff Cohen for keeping us all out of jail and Ken Adams for sticking with us; the rest of the Lamb Of God family: Jessie Barnes, Boz Porter, Larry Clubb, Mikey B., Evie Carrano, Jay Chiari, Dennis Solomon, Angie Cooper, Chris Ramming, Dusty Simmons, Maria Ferraro and Adrenaline PR, Ian Whalen, Josh Wilbur, Jim Feeney, Tim Borror and Leah Peterson,Frank Warren,Scott Greer, Allison Hagendorf, Cheryl Valentine, Jody Mazer, David Allen, Mikey Brosnan, EJ and Dan at Prosthetic Records, High Roller Studios, Daragh McDonagh, Ed Gold, Skillet; Tim McKee and Mesa/Boogie, Brian McDonald, John Walker and Jackson Guitars, Kellie Stoelting, Jessica Sonquist and Seymour Duncan Pickups, Craig Costigan and Framus, Dave Cowles and GHS, John Ferrante and Planet Waves, Burt Lecato and In Tune picks; RPG, ATP and all the East End beer drinkers and hell raisers, Big Shirley's Plantation,Ronnie and Lee Ann Blankenship, Bryan and Jeannie Biggerstaff... "I got the need for speed!", Bobby and Jeannie Madison, all the good folks at the Richmond Dragway, Mark Davis, Ed Unser and Precision Roofing... hold me a spot, I might still need it!, Wicket, Jack and my main man Curtis... and most importantly, all of our fans around the world who have given us the chance to live out a dream... .thank you.
Marketing: Scott Greer
A&R: Allison Hagendorf
Larry Mazer / Tamra Feldman
Entertainment Services Unlimited
tamra@esumangement.com
Jeffrey. R. Cohen
Millen, White, Zelano & Branigan
cohen@mwzb.com
Tim Borror / The Agency Group
timborror@theagencygroup.com
http://www.theagencygroup.com
band@lamb-of-god.com
Sponsors:
http://www.lamb-of-god.com/sponsors
K3n Adams
www.K3n.com
www.LAMB-OF-GOD.com
www.lambofgod.tv
www.sacrament2006.com
www.epicrecords.com
CD - 2006 Sony / BMG Music
1. Walk With Me in Hell
2. Again We Rise
3. Redneck
4. Pathetic
5. Foot to the Throat
6. Descending
7. Blacken the Cursed Sun
8. Forgotten (Lost Angels)
9. Requiem
10. More Time to Kill
11. Beating on Death's Door
Pray for blood,
Pray for the cleansing,
Pray for the flood,
Pray for the end of this wide awake nightmare.
This lie of a life can as quickly as it came dissolve.
We seek only reprieve and welcome the darkness.
The myth of a meaning so lost and forgotten.
Take hold of my hand,
For you are no longer alone.
Walk with me in hell.
Pray for solace,
Pray for resolve.
Pray for a savior,
Pray for deliverance, some kind of purpose.
A glimpse of a light in this void of existance.
Now witness the end of an age.
Hope dies in hands of believers
who seek the truth in the liar's eyes.
Take hold of my hand,
For you are no longer alone.
Walk with me in hell.
You're never alone.
Store bought attitude and spit,
a sugar coated piece of shit.
An instant rebel, just add greed.
Another useless commodity.
Broken glass and a broken jaw,
lies are told in a southern drawl.
Poor-house poverty's your schtick,
The real thing would kill you quick.
Rise, again we will rise.
Blood and fire used to fill the night,
burnt and drowned by our very lives.
You missed a sinking boat by years,
dollar signs, crocodile tears.
Its over now and long has been,
those days are gone won't come again.
Another name crossed off the list.
The real thing would kill you quick.
Rise, again we will rise.
There's nothing for you to fight against,
you're so unreal its evident.
You'll never be one of our kind,
this ain't yours, fuck you don't try.
This bridge was burnt before you could cross,
you reap the benefits of what's lost.
Go home son, hang your costume up,
a goddamn insult to the rest of us.
A thousand yard stare across the south,
a full belly and a lying mouth.
Momma's boy plays heretic.
The real thing would kill you quick.
Rise, again we will rise.
There's nothing for you to fight against,
you're so unreal its evident.
You'll never be one of our kind,
this ain't yours, fuck you don't try.
Fuck you, don't even try.
Fuck you, your time is nigh.
Fuck you, I've had enough.
Fuck you, your time is up.
So goddamn easy to write this,
you make it spill on the page.
So drunk on your self, self-righteous.
The laughing stock of your own fucking stage.
But I ain't one to call names
or throw stones in a house of glass.
You try me.
This is a motherfucking invitation.
The only one you could ever need.
This is a motherfucking invitation.
You try me.
Just one time you got a reason,
heard you had nothing to lose.
A blind preacher for the pin eyed congregation.
It must be easy to lose.
But I ain't one to call names
or throw stones in a house of glass.
You try me.
This is a motherfucking invitation.
The only one you could ever need.
This is a motherfucking invitation.
You try me.
You can tell the same lie a thousand times,
but it never gets any more true.
So close your eyes once more and once believe
that they all still believe in you.
This is a motherfucking invitation.
The only one you could ever need.
This is a motherfucking invitation.
You try me.
Just one time.
Somewhere between and excuse and a lie,
You found something that you believe.
So proud, I guess I can't imagine why,
Three cheers for what we used to be.
Pathetic. Wasted. Soulless. Compromised.
Sleep walking the mine field,
Shit talking, it crumbles around you.
It comes back around.
Somewhere between delusion and denial,
You'll drown in your own sympathy.
Profound, at least you thought so at the time,
A ghost of who you used to be.
Pathetic. Wasted. Soulless. Compromised.
Sleep walking the mine field,
Shit talking, it crumbles around you.
It comes back around.
Pathetic. Wasted. Soulless. Compromised.
Virginia death threat, Virginia creeper vine.
The hands that feed intent, Choke the purpose of this time.
Take all that you can give, And I will make it mine.
No care for what you've spent, Even fool's gold has its shine.
Never held down, never restrained.
Virtue's foot to the throat,
free of broken chains.
Thus always to tyrants,
Laugh at the conquered, the victims now betray.
And in this Commonwealth,
There's merely a common concern for self.
We hold these lies to be self-evident,
As the dividends will reflect.
And in this Commonwealth,
There's merely a common concern for self.
The coffers have long run dry,
Never held down, never restrained.
Virtue's foot to the throat,
free of broken chains.
Thus always to tyrants,
Laugh at the conquered, the victims now betray.
Like a bull in a china shop,
But the shelves have all been cleared.
A thief in an empty vault,
The sheep already sheared.
A screen door on a submarine,
An eagle with a broken wing,
Hope in a dead man's dream,
The sound of a bell
that will never ring.
You're just wasting time.
The river I'm bound to be found in,
A rope chosen bound for the hang.
When I'm blind and I think I see everything,
Convincing myself again.
This god that I worship (a faded reflection).
This demon I blame (a flickering flame).
Conspire as one, exactly the same.
Its exactly the same.
Descending.
To never recover the pieces
to all that we've lost.
Recover the pieces lost.
The pieces to all we've lost.
I shudder to think of the consequence,
Its blasphemy simple and true.
The tragic protagonist torments,
Convincing myself again.
This god that I worship (a faded reflection).
This demon I blame (a flickering flame).
Conspire as one, exactly the same.
Its exactly the same.
Descending.
To never recover the pieces
to all that we've lost.
Recover the pieces lost.
The pieces to all we've lost.
Seize the darkened day, there's only hell to pay.
And no one left to see this prodigal return.
Sweet apathy's black toll,
you'll mourn the traded soul.
I'll dig a deeper hole, sanctity a breath away.
Just a breath away.
Blacken the cursed sun,
You're not the only one,
To have sunk so far and low,
There is no tomorrow.
A tragedy on display,
a sickness for all to see,
I will kill this part of myself that I hate
and that I see in you.
It was always mine anyway,
there's some things you can't take away.
I choose not to feel a thing,
sanctity a breath away.
Just a breath away.
Blacken the cursed sun,
You're not the only one,
To have sunk so far and low,
There is no tomorrow.
Blacken the cursed sun,
Blacken what's yet to be done.
Blacken because now you know,
There is no tomorrow.
You're just a breath away.
Better to die quick fighting on your feet,
Then to live forever begging on you knees.
Can we still be saved?
Does your god hold a place for us?
Is there time to repent?
Will we rise from the dead?
Can these sins even be forgiven?
Is there still hope for us?
Were we ever even alive?
Is any of this even real?
Hell no.
This is a mean and cold town,
I hate this fucking place.
Watch the rats as they all drown,
Dying slowly day by day.
Decrepit and falling down,
Cesspool of human waste.
Swallow profits in deep,
Now in death you'll finally know the taste.
There are no souls left here to save.
Forgotten, lost angels, long disgraced.
You fucking hypocrite,
But hooks in lips they do not lie.
Compassions served not on your plate,
How many of them have you watched die?
I can't write you a happy song,
I can't write you a sing-a-long.
The only catchy hook I've got,
Is the one in my bleeding gut.
Burn it down.
There are no souls left here to save.
Forgotten, lost angels, long disgraced.
Dead stares, dead eyes,
choked hopes and vacant minds.
Blank words, blank lives,
the end result of endless lies.
There's no angels here,
To get lost in the first place
Jackhammer a fault line,
Pray for earthquakes.
Mulholland's on fire,
And my cig started it.
'92 should have burnt this fucker down,
We're here to finish it.
I'm not impressed by much here,
Much less what you have to say.
Don't give a fuck who you know,
I just want to leave this hellhole.
Know that you mean nothing to me,
Nor the lies that seep from your teeth.
Won't piss on you if you're on fire,
One more self-important liar.
Burn it down.
Down, chemical sacrament,
Blasphemous prayer.
Deliver me from this
so serene apocalypse.
Just make me fucking numb,
Deaf, blind and fucking dumb.
Return to sacred sleep.
This could be my requiem,
And I'll feel no pain.
This could be my requiem,
But don't bury me too deep.
Drain infected brine,
Sickened cesspool shell of mine.
Strap up the hands of time,
And push the soul into the vein.
Just make me fucking numb,
Deaf, blind and fucking dumb.
Return to sacred sleep.
This could be my requiem,
And I'll feel no pain.
This could be my requiem,
But don't bury me too deep.
Sink, suffer, self destruct.
Rise, stronger, reconstruct.
Dispose, Discard, Deny.
And I will feel no pain.
I just got the news today you were dying,
Hot Damn! We're already partying.
But please, before you have to leave,
Let me tell you a few last things.
Suffer, unto me.
Indulge, my every need.
I don't want to meet you halfway,
I've always despised that fucking place.
I'm not offering you my way,
I'm kicking you down the fucking highway.
Get one thing straight from the get go,
I truly don't give a fuck about you.
I never have and I never will,
Each day you breathe is more time to kill.
Fuck your world up.
Your last breath,
I'll take it now.
Your last breath,
I'll rip it away.
And haunt your dreams in your final sleep.
Get one thing straight from the get go,
I truly don't give a fuck about you.
I never have and I never will,
Each day you breathe is more time to kill.
I never have and I never will.
She's a slack one, born of greed.
Speaking endless words, long and empty.
A begger who still wants to choose,
A dethroned queen still demands her due.
If you want something for nothing you take what you get,
A virgin whore in a dirty wedding dress.
Scream for salvation, beating on death's door.
But just be careful what you wish for.
There's a blood stain on the ceiling,
But you're the only duck in the shooting gallery.
Trying to look out a bricked in window,
Your destiny lies in the alley below.
Trying to see yourself in a shattered mirror,
When all else fails, she holds you with broken arms.
There's poison in her veins, but the bitch comes for free,
A quick fix for all that you think that you need.
Scream for salvation, beating on death's door.
But just be careful what you wish for.
The patron saint of fools answers all your requests,
She's all yours now, so deal with it.
There's no shoulder left to cry wolf on,
You're tied in knots that can't be undone.
No more warnings will fall on deaf ears,
You lied too many times now no one cares.
No one cares.
An empty promise with a heart of tin,
Her crooked smile beguiles and it draws you within.
The hope for something more, all that you wish for,
A kick to the head and a boot to the door.
Chasing a dragon in a lady's clothes,
A paper trail ends in choking smoke.
But you know that you lit the match yourself,
Play the burning cards that you dealt.
Scream for salvation, beating on death's door.
But just be careful what you wish for.
The patron saint of fools answers all your requests,
She's all yours now, so deal with it.
Broken.