It is too much to hold; too loud to ignore It is too meaningless and yet too heavy in its presence It is too meaningless, how it makes us fall from everything The lack of everything traces itself on our emptiness While the feeling digs and sinks and stabs its way inside From the outside it burrows under skin, into bone, until It seems to emanate outward from our very form of feeling It is irreducible within our own consciousness And makes that consciousness feel itself to be a mistake Consciousness echoes out in a bloodcurdling wail Between each bout of insincere laughter, it yawns and writhes Pain exceeds every name, every ruse of language It exceeds every cunning shackle of domination Nature is always overwhelming such attempts at mastery Pain exceeds every name, and all out-thinking It is altogether overwhelming the instant it hits The breaching of pain punctuates and institutes the ego No wonder so much of its energy is poured into Eliding and effacing itself in the search of pleasure All our naming and science can today only be self-justifying For so long as there is no domination over pain Nothing can justify its existence Even speaking its name, as we’ve been doing, risks identifying with pain Using the name tritely expedites the inadequation of the concept With just an instant’s duration, it can feel like an eternal presence Grounding the mind unshakably in what is hostile to it Pain is a concrete Idea which engages the whole body in anamnesis Pain binds the body to time, before time can become its essence Pain exists above all exchanges, profits and dancing It is the ground below our forms of intuition It cuts across and sits beside any pleasure; brooding and waiting It flows in our blood. Always waiting. Always ending In-difference, we feel what’s missing In-divisible understandings What’s missing is meaning. But meaning is survival But survival robs us of forever; It bars off and separates for-ever As it constitutes the base of our inner sense, Time We see that pain is our hitherto history Even when safe from physical harm, we’re tormented By a desire which can never find satisfaction according To the cultural imaginations which have issued from history But we desire nonetheless, so we continue moving forward At pains we are repulsed in hopes of finding an end to the pain But it will never come, so long as the times are off their hinges Pain is perpetually misplaced and mistimed Not to mention how often it is misrecognized Ideology has misjudged and mistaken it For a noble divine lie; a theodicy Pain is the social repercussion of scarcity and sacrifice Both of which have overstayed their welcome and utility Pain is our separation from divinity; the spaces between words Which render each insufficient; schisms in communal being It is the syntax of sexed beings; The truth which makes advertising so effective; The seething expression which art appropriates; It is the negative imprint of the Good which we’ve lost It’s a sun which never sets over an empire of chaos; It is the necessity of speech to be subject to succession; Even when we are momentarily blessed with its absence Its trace remains, taunting us from between the lines The wager was not worth the existence of Pain
Read the complete lyrics to "Ontology of Pain" by Cryptodira from the album "The Angel of History". On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rock.
"Ontology of Pain" is performed by Cryptodira. from the album "The Angel of History" This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"Ontology of Pain" is credited to Cryptodira. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Ontology of Pain" appears on "The Angel of History".
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