MÉLANCOLIA - [Inure] (OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO)
MÉLANCOLIA (AUS)
Online Video
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Official music video for "[Inure]" from Melbourne based melodic blackened deathcore outfit MÉLANCOLIA. Debut album, HissThroughRottenTeeth, out now via Greyscale Records (AUS/NZ) and Nuclear Blast Records (Rest of World). Listen at: https://geni.us/HissThroughRottenTeeth
Subscribe to Mélancolia: https://nblast.de/subs-melancolia-yt
Subscribe to Nuclear Blast: https://nblast.de/NBytb
Subscribe to Greyscale: http://bit.ly/GSRyt
LISTEN & ORDER: https://geni.us/HissThroughRottenTeeth
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Visit Mélancolia at:
https://melancoliaexe.com
https://www.facebook.com/melancolia.aus
https://www.instagram.com/melancolia_exe
https://www.tiktok.com/@melancolia_exe
https://www.youtube.com/@melancolia_exe
https://twitter.com/melancolia_exe
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Engineered by Declan White
Produced by Mélancolia and Declan White
Mixed & Mastered by Declan White
Directed by Karl Steller
Concept by Alex Hill and Karl Steller
Director/DOP/Editor - Karl Steller
BTS Photo/Video - Jackson Webster
Set Assistant - Thomas Allen
Filmed at Rush Escape Rooms, South Yarra
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Mélancolia "[Inure]" Lyrics
Razor to wrist
Crept and I crawled under moonlights arrest
There I swayed; slow decay in this tomb made of flesh
Tracing the tracks that I wore on my sleeve
Razor to wrist for a wretch like me
Silenced my tongue so that venom ne’er spit
But if silence is golden then silver my grin
Grinding my teeth constantly before they erode
Only to feel when the dead nerve is exposed
Chewing on the stems of roses
Never felt so comfortable
Nausea feels so at home when all you know chokes
Razor to wrist (razor to wrist)
Scratch my itch
Silenced my tongue so that venom ne’er spit
But if silence is golden then silver my grin
A fragile reflection has cracked into art
Deserving enough to be hung
Admired and loved, nailed and strung
Tracing the tracks on my sleeve, razor to wrist till I bleed
I keep a blade up my sleeve I wouldn’t shake my hand
Even with pins in my collar I will still hang my head
Razor to wrist (razor to wrist)
scratch my itch
Nausea feels so at home when all you know chokes
Crept and I crawled under moonlights arrest
There I swayed; slow decay in this tomb made of flesh
Tracing the tracks that I wore on my sleeve
Razor to wrist for a wretch like me
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