Transcension

by Sleepers Awake

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about

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Sleepers Awake's sophomore release, Transcension, is a 70-minute concept album that combines elements of progressive, post and sludge metal into a compelling and dynamic record. Exploring the story of 2009's Priests of the Fire, Sleepers pushes their rhythmic and emotional range to create a genre-defying epic.
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Chris Thompson - Vocals, Guitar
Rob Bradley - Guitar
Chris "Ambrose" Burnsides - Drums
Kedar Hiremath - Bass
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CD's and T-shirts: bit.ly/P2xEx3
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Reviews: blog.sleeperrock.com/press/ (seriously, wtf?)
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credits

released June 17, 2013

All music and lyrics by Sleepers Awake
Produced by Sleepers Awake and Joe Viers
Recorded by Joe Viers and BJ Davis at Sonic Lounge Studios
Mastered by Brian Lucey at Magic Garden Mastering
Artwork by Douglas Fordyce at Studio Fordyce

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Sleepers Awake Columbus, Ohio

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Track Name: The Augur
Reading from these words, entombed with stone, enshrined. Flicker of the candlelight, bring this augury to life! An end to the crushing jaws, the burden's fire.

“One will come with destroyer's tongue,” Fathers cry, “from beneath the earthen spire, beneath the mountain's fire, beneath the temple's ire – Rise!”

Mother's eyes despair the touch of winter's years. Fading in the candlelight, whisper close into Death's ear, drowning in all the laws of ancient liars.

“One will come with destroyer's tongue,” fathers cry, “beneath the earthen spire, beneath the mountain's fire, beneath the temple's ire – Rise!”

Born into this light so unaware - how do we hide? Walk into the dark to disappear and fade with time.

Unjust majesty that brought her to her knees, screaming through her teeth.
Track Name: Burdened
Chosen rival, fated to be heaven's hand is choking the Burdened, fated to be heaven's hand.

I watch the sun's birth bestow its pardon; night pulls its daughter down. A simple thing, to thirst for an answer. Hope dies in silence now.

Why have you chosen? Am I your heretic? You might have saved yourself.

Chosen rival, fated to be heaven's hand is choking the Burdened, fated to be heaven's hand.

I fix my eyes on the horizon; the burden fills me. I prayed for not a thing, feared what I became – yet burned your ribbons. I clear the smoke, look to the boughs; the burden fills me. I lured the pain, found my soul - yet burned your ribbons.

You have baptized me – placed your hand onto my head, pushed me underneath the waters. I breathe, drowning in all of your fears. I want none of you! Still, this burden takes me. …I want none of you. Still, this burden makes me.

You left me choiceless, left me alone. To be heaven's hand – a saint – condemned in me.

Chosen rival, fated to be heaven's hand is choking the Burdened, fated to be heaven's hand.
Track Name: Apparitions
An essence, ethereal, dark beneath the waves – brooding, seething, guiding me. The portents, a bestial cloud that lies in wait – pulling, seizing, rising. A devil, reaching for a crumbled throne, whose wings were cut but soon will grow. The anvil, forging chains for dying crones, waiting to don its crown of bones and leave, forever in its wake.

Harbinger of oblivion! Beast has found its home, dead meadows. The willing slaves to conjure – mine, no longer.

We are one by our command, tied in blood! We are the flood! The coming flood at hand!

Crowning rite, blackest blood, spiral snakes, entwined. Hunter grows in darkness – even rulers bow to masters now.

We are one by our command, tied in blood! We are the flood! The coming flood at hand!

Sacrifice the mind to a cold apparition. Asleep, behind its eyes, an altar yielding to every desire. The world beneath, a dream.

A Rider, a curse upon the priors! Destroyer, devouring the fire! Swollen ground, beckoning the pyre. A Rider, a curse upon the priors!
Track Name: Slave Within
Dream, my weakest host… Hold you, waking doesn’t mean escape. You belong ever in this endless specter. Immersed in transgressions, succumb to my torment! Mired, this pleasure beats beneath the stone – debris in the ashes, trinkets of my youth. Fleeting, a whisper, “Eternal, is this end!”

A slave within, these serpents will not yield - writhing limbs, scales that never peel!

Veiled in an amber glow of failure, draped in oldest warmth, surrender. Stifled sweetness amid the smolder - absolution holds its secrets.

A slave within, these serpents will not yield - writhing limbs, scales that never peel! The dream returns, weakens wit and will. Skin that burns - forgotten sense revealed.

A birth – a union, forbidden, cursed. A priest without a god to serve – a savior, cloaked in omen. A mountain, made flesh – an instrument of woe. The Ascent, the spawn of a devil, will watch her Fathers’ fall. This house of war brings judgment to the sea of flames.

A slave within, these serpents will not yield - writhing limbs, scales that never peel! The dream returns, weakens wit and will. Skin that burns - forgotten sense revealed.
Track Name: Saint Condemned
“Come, Fathers of the fire - gathering altar! Vexation from without - heresy is spread! A call to hunt, to tear asunder – Lords of flame, bring the light!

A false redemption consume inception. Errant devotion. Shadow's cursed vision.

Go into the night, 'neath fog and cowl – unto the sword this Augur will bow! This heathen verse, a bastard's hope. Make known his cup be filled with dust!”

“I've seen destiny trapped in reveries – gilded feet, futures known. Lamentations crest the sky crashing down, reverence lost. Paths of fate are writ upon oceans – divined sight never known.”

“Come, Fathers of the fire - gathering altar! Vexation from without - heresy is spread!”

Blessed king! The saint, condemned. Barren, the womb of faith.
Track Name: Throat of Winter
Close your eyes. Don't expect a reason, just drink the wine and pray that your soul's to find the vines wreathed around the fear that keeps me paralyzed. Soon, be my own device, a gentle host. Build the walls and lay your faults in me, the ghost haunting the emptiness of those hollow thoughts that never talk yet bring and boast a cup that will never flow.

Summer’s gone; the leaves have fallen. They die like breath caught in the throat of winter. All the lies, the lords, the flies – they coalesce, haunt the bones and live again.

Round my head there may be a halo but round my neck the rope has begun to burrow in and suffocate. The paths to take – the will is gone, surrendered to the unknown.

Summer’s gone; the leaves have fallen. They die like breath caught in the throat of winter. All the lies, the lords, the flies – they coalesce, haunt the bones and live again.

Woeful tears, numbed in the wake of wintertide, burn the fear – hold the fire, rise from rime! Called alive, curse the sky! Called alive – the fall, divined!

Reach for a setting sun slowly sinking in the fire; take my place among these leaves scorned. Skies fall – the autumn of days! Tears turn to ash on your face. Still, they can't take me from you.
Track Name: Equa Mortuorum
She roars! Omens to her game. Darkest Mare, calling to her prey.

This drape of silver and bronze veils the curse in your bones, agog for bereavement. An end I deny!

I descend into the wood, a stricken valley the sun dares not touch. Eyes meet. My fear, she thinks me weak – true, just the sight steals warmth from blood.

She roars! Omens to her game. Darkest Mare, calling to her prey.

She leaves the perilous path in dust. She cleaves the soul from the withering husk.

Equa mortuorum – Mare of the Dead – and the dead must remain. Shadow tramples the world under hoof and gavel's pain. Mare of the Dead – and the dead must remain.
Track Name: The Fulcrum
I, humblest re-breather, fall alone – a silent unbeliever sacrificed to the throne. Stones for the deceiver overrule the unified divider.

Hanging on threads of fable, paragon cast off.

I know we're all feeding moments to the fleeting. Will this all begin again?

I, humblest re-breather, fall alone – a silent unbeliever sacrificed to the throne. Stones for the deceiver overrule the unified divider.

The time for choice has come and gone again. Life was gone before we even bled. Words ablaze in this paper grave – are we all that we've unmade? Ending everything? Serpents without beginning? Sovereign gravity? Circles without division?

Hanging on threads of fable, paragon cast off.

I, humblest re-breather, fall alone – a silent unbeliever sacrificed to the throne. Stones for the deceiver overrule the unified divider.