by Lucretia

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Recorded in late May of 2012 at UP Studio in Seymour, CT
Bass, Drums, and Guitar recorded live.
Second guitar track recorded in one take.
All vocals done in one or two takes.

We tried to make it as close to the real deal and get as much done as we could in the little time that we had. Hope you enjoyed it.


released June 1, 2012

Tony Goncalves: Lead Vocals
Mark Carotenuto: Drums, Vocals on "Joel Hutchinson"
Ryan VanWart: Bass
Michael Terry: Guitars, Vocals on "Layne Walter"
David Kiely: Vocals on "Lawrence Talbot"

Lyrics by Tony Goncalves and Michael Terry

Artwork by Nabeel Nassar



all rights reserved


Lucretia Connecticut

Esoteric hardcore played by disenfranchised metal kids from the Rust Belt section of Connecticut



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Track Name: Jhon O'Connor (Fight It Like A Fucking Pig)
Track Name: Joel Hutchinson (You Are Not a Photographer)
She sighs, she screams
"Why does this have to be?"
I walk this barren Earth
Searching a shadowed life's curse
I'm bound and chained to think in this single frame

Face it!
Hey babe you ain't no Mona Lisa
You are flawed and have distorted features
Sorry faggot, my Latin is lacking
You're the best thing to ever happen and I'm not even acting
But you are an angel heaven sent to us
And fuck Matt Theissen and everything he ever meant to us

Tortured by sovereign bliss
Blessed with Satan's Kiss
I'm bound and chained to think in this single frame
Track Name: Lawrence Talbot (Put On Your Dancing Shoes)
No savior can fucking save you now
Whore feel my agony
I will make you fucking bleed
Thrown down, to the ground
Down on your knees

You make the bile rise
In the back of my fucking throat
I hope you fucking choke
On all the shit that you put me through

Cauterize the salted wound before infection takes control of everything that makes you who you are
Track Name: Layne Walter (Grey Eyes, A Scarlet Letter, and a Future We Never Wanted to Accept as Truth)
I feel as if the past three years of my life
Have been condensed into 23 still-frame photographs
The part of me that could write songs about you is dead
Crushed underneath the weight of its marble columns

I fell in love with you like a fool but you ripped out my heart and you pissed in the wound

Struggle not to let yourself drown in the piss
You speak of things that make my eyes close
There's too many ghosts in this half filled notebook
And I swear I'll never let a single one out of its place

Scars pierce your skin
Like cracks in porcelain
You can't hide it in the summer
You hate the cold
Tears streak your face
For each broken promise
Or your mistakes
But that's never stopped you from having your own way

She's so thin you cant count the ribs on her chest
And a crow over her heart for each time she was stupid enough to let him break it again
Clocks wound backwards
If only it was that easy
To go back in time and change every mistake we never intended to make
And it kills me to know you'll burn every fucking olive branch
I'll try to fucking send
Just remember you're worth something. You're still a cunt

Keep your head high, its all you have left.

Fuck it I'm done
Forget about everything
You've dug your own grave
It's high time you've lain in it