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    CD comes in digipack artwork by Stefano Bonora, hand lettering by Mattia Bonora.
    Recorded and mixed at Trai Studio, Inzago (MI) by Fabio Intraina, mastered by Maurizio Giannotti at New Mastering Studio (Milan)

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    Vinyl 12" double side 140gr, black.
    Produced with Epidemic Records, Shove, Il Verso del Cinghiale Records, Omoallumato Distro, Frammenti di un Cuore Esploso, DIHO, Cave Canem DIY, Brigante Records & Productions and Progetto Cervo Booking Agency.
    Booklet Artwork (20 pag) 29cm x 29cm by Stefano Bonora, hand lettering by Mattia Bonora.
    Recorded and mixed at Trai Studio, Inzago (MI) by Fabio Intraina, mastered by Maurizio Giannotti at New Mastering Studio (Milan)

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lyrics

Have you ever wondered, considered that we're the worst part and all we can see is the red of our blood dripping against, falling onto these walls
In every century blood spills like carpets, red doors… irritating me
Have you ever thought the light can fade to black, when we cut out all the energy from intellect?

When mankind shuts down this feeble light, cuts all reason…
bolts in our eyes and we called it a "war"… and it all turns grey…
Cause in our eardrums, we hear the calls of war. Cause on our own we bother just for what our skin, flesh, can figure out
thought we could define it with the Internet…

Clasp your soft pillow, the dark side's in front, lovely cuts, withdraws in our lost, sunk souls before we get pathetically ironic, blocked!
with staples in our souls. Before the dark plays with us and we just can't escape control.

We, the ghosts.
We're lonely whispers to the wind that blows into the ground, into the soil.
We fill insignificant books, but way back, I recall that, lives away, lives away, just before we felt this steady complain
We, the ghosts.
We're lonely whispers to the wind that blows into the ground, into the soil.
Before we carry on --- thru the red door ---

And so the story turns us into actors with a senseless plot, the only chance we have is to deploy, become slaves or break out thru this fate.
And when we hear by night an old song the radio's playing, the candle dies and new light enters with the day.

Nevermind the noise - cracks on the glasses - nevermind the noise - light thru the windows - nevermind the noise - a ray, a flame, the red door.
Waiting on the entrance we saw a million doors and chose the red, the illest, a sentiment of crying comes when "easy solving" is personal,
waiting for the time we supposed, we may do… just try to read the signs, enrage yourself and make it painful, then get to the core.

credits

from Songs From the Lowest Floor, released March 4, 2016

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FILTH IN MY GARAGE Bergamo, Italy

Already in the end of 2011 the band feel the need to alternate live activity to an early writing of a new work, a three song Ep, breaking up with the initial style and song writing techniques. With these three songs and their 23 minutes of music “12.21.12” Ep comes to light also in digital format under Memorial Records. ... more

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