The eternal marshes beckon.

Through sparsely vivid mists, a faltering contrivance lumbers. The grating of metal on metal, the harsh thuds of failing machinery, these are the last flashes of hatred, thriving, pushing the decaying body onward. The fuzzing of fuses burnt, the wailing and shrieks of banshees, caught in this pentavalent poverty of construction, these are the dying sounds of what once was forged. A liberation through scant corrosion.

Single sided LP with etch by Steven Wilson. Heavy 400gr jackets with inner cardboard jacket and insert.

The Eternal Marshes by Bismuth