The Ice Maker

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BITCORRUPTER

BITCORRUPTER is a musical artist known for their unique blend of electronic music genres such as glitch, IDM, and experimental soundscapes. With a distinct focus on manipulating and distorting audio, BITCORRUPTER creates intricate compositions characterized by intricate rhythms, distorted textures, and atmospheric elements. Their music often showcases a dark and dystopian aesthetic, reflecting themes of technology, chaos, and the digital age. BITCORRUPTER's sound pushes the boundaries of traditional electronic music, offering an innovative and avant-garde experience for listeners. more »

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I still feel a fire in the soul after five ex-septennial. Brought to you in whole or incremental by creditor despots. Their goal is just to get to you. Cast a vote to the kleptomaniacs. Touching themselves as they talk in bible verse. The spoils of liberty sliced just like that. Sliced just like that. Just like all those junkies jittering. Just like all these invested sects injecting industry. Look at all their voting records. Look at all the frozen feet of frequent flyers. Fixing fines and finely dining. Lusting for stock. The ticker tape talks on. I see total lost control while the hoarders hover on the fence. I see rigid right angle regiments. A fix should hit the spot so the hollow can't get to you. Stand and applaud for the cast of plutocrats. Between bites of bile they bloviate. Oil and military might is like that. Might is like that. Just like all those junkies jittering. Just like all these injector sects ingest intravenously. Look at all their arson records. Look at all the fastened frantic firm and frigid. Feeling fine but finally dying. Expiry dates on the parking lots and lawns. I still know a chill in the sole and my feet feel the miles pile on. Greeted daily with exoskeleton. So land here and be caught, the cold is going to get to you. They roll over and end it on their backs. Every death on the ice is like that. Legs in curl and body void of slack. Every death is like that. Just like all those June bugs jittering. Just like all those insects walk out on the ice and never leave. Just like all their avail for antifreeze. Just like all the frantic flies, feet frozen. Fastened firm and frigid. Faces festered. Stuck at the surface, shackled and padlock drawn.

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