from Coffin Cola Club / FR@NKIEVXXX The dry food offered nothing. No mercy. No covenant. No meat. Then we heard it: the silver seal beneath the human thumb. The can-tab. The blade. The small bright sound that divides starvation from worship. “Wet Food at the Gates of Hell” is our second single and our first demand. Break the seal. Feed the throne. Or face the claw.

from Coffin Cola Club / FR@NKIEVXXX This is not a song. This is the formal record of the moment the bowl was found empty and the house was judged. We screamed. Heaven failed to answer. So we made riffs. THE BOWL IS EMPTY is blackened European death metal from five cats who were promised dinner and received silence. Feed the hunger. Or become part of the sermon.