cold meat industry
Cold Meat Industry was a record label specialized in industrial, dark ambie… Read Full Bio ↴Cold Meat Industry was a record label specialized in industrial, dark ambient and noise music. It was active between 1987 and 2013.
At the time of its spreading popularity, late 1980s and early 1990s, the label introduced a genuine innovation in the music history, especially within the industrial and goth scenes. Nowadays, the name "Cold Meat Industry" still denotes a musical style within the industrial and dark ambient genres.
In 2013 the label seems to have stopped all activities. A notification posted on the official Cold Meat Industry Facebook page claimed the official end of the label.
RELATED GENRES TOP ALBUMS TOP TRACKS TOP ARTISTS
Genre not found
Artist not found
Album not found
Search results not found
Song not found

Intro / Menu
Atrium Carceri Lyrics


We have lyrics for these tracks by Atrium Carceri:


Quarantine Pjevati ću neću stat u muku, pripjevaću rumenu jabuku što se…


The lyrics are frequently found in the comments by searching or by filtering for lyric videos
Most interesting comments from YouTube:

@markpayne1748

I'm writing my first novel-- high fantasy. What follows is almost like a Wikipedia entry for a type of humanoid who populates my created world, which alludes in its lore to an ancient conflict between the forest elves (Sylvan) and the dark elves (Drow).
Originally the same people, they encountered a cataclysmic schism that devolved into civil war. Ultimately, the Sylvan won and banished those who would not submit from their ancient forest home to the caves beneath the flanking mountains.
Through evolution and genetic magic, all of their teeth are jagged and tapered. The lack of sunlight over centuries turned the skin tone of the castigated ones ashen and their body heat barely above that of a cadaver. Every attempt to genetically adapt to the cold has failed. Their discomfort simply became a way of life. With nocturnal vision, acute hearing, and the mastery of echolocation and shadow-physics, they are unmatched archers in their subterraneous environment. They are greatly feared during the night when they leave their caves to hunt. In shadows and darkness, the last thing their prey or victims may see is the shimmer of their amethyst eyes. While the Sylvan are exclusively herbivores, the Drow's diet consists almost entirely of raw meat. Bread is only consumed to sop up any blood. The caste of the female is determined by the elders according to the society's need once a female is impregnated by a drone. The drow hunter caste also has venomous, serpentine fangs that spring forward from the canine positions for the lethal blow during melee.
Not even the orcs, although easily triple the size of the biggest Drow soldier, are safe in those caverns, many getting lost in the complete darkness and plummeting into a pit or getting stuck in passages too small for them to travel, much less swing their weapon. The doomed orcs are then quickly rendered unconscious after the Drow fills the area with smoke.
A matriarchal society, the Drow queen is also high priestess, surrounded by elite female bodyguards and subordinate male drones. The fungi that grow on the cave walls emit spores which emaciate the males and greatly shorten their lifespan, while simultaneously augmenting the female's strength and agility. No male Drow has lived naturally past thirty years and now commit ritual suicide on the day they turn twenty-seven during a lavish ritual, bringing honor and esteem to his family. The queen has seen no reason to genetically alter the effects of the spores, for she proclaims it to be the will of the Drow's goddess Dothnek'gehern. She sacrifices curious non-Drow who foolishly venture into the caves searching for the fabled magic-laden Drow treasure. Their hearts are removed and burned in offering, and their flesh consumed by the worshippers in ceremonial adoration of the pale goddess for her continued protection and blessing.
Riding wingless basilisks through the tunnels, the Drow worker caste is forever expanding the tunnels and mining the precious stones, minerals, and crystals, utilizing the highly caustic projectile saliva of their mounts. Sentries and hunters use the wyverns (huge winged basilisks) to fly in the night skies. The sentries quickly subdue any and all who cross their borders, and the reapers (hunter caste) scour the neutral zones, keenly watching for lone travelers and parties of three or less huddled around a campfire. If the reapers have been unsuccessful in their hunts for several days, they have been known to hunt in groups of three to five reapers and raid villages for cattle or anyone, man or woman, on the street at the time of the ambush. They pass up the young cattle and children-- not on moral grounds, but because of their small size, which makes them worthless. The unfortunate prey is snatched up without a trace of forensic evidence if the prey was alone. Even in melee, there is never a telling clue, and never a witness, leading to the rise of superstition and scary tales told in taverns and around campfires to explain how the travelers vanished. And now the farmers living on the outskirts of a village always remember without fail to leave a cow or sheep outside overnight tied to a post, in hopes that whatever it is outside that occasionally snatches up their cattle will just take it and leave in peace.
The Drow are forbidden under penalty of death to ever touch a human without wearing protective clothing, as the typical human's body heat is highly addictive to them. The queen's edict was declared soon after a sentry grappled with a trespassing human male and was immediately enthralled by the heat of his body. These stricken females forsook their duties, even their biological necessities rather than be deprived of his warmth. Other females clamored to his side, even attacking their sistren to gain a better embrace. Other females planned to attack the nearest human village and kidnap its citizens, which would certainly cause the human kingdom of Farrendale to declare war on them. As the news spread, this small, seemingly innocuous incident ultimately threatened to collapse their entire societal structure. So the queen ordered her reapers to humanely kill the "infected" ones. The man was then bound by five sentries entirely concealed in thick insulated leather and taken into the palace, where only a select few knew of his plight. He became the queen's first official "bedwarmer". He was kept for several years, locked in a cell during the time the queen was not in bed. She eventually grew tired of him and enacted the first annual "Cashalenki Leven'grataba", a contest for the ten best reapers to go out at night hunting for human men. They had three nights to bring her their quarry. The queen would determine the winning reaper, who would be handsomely rewarded and celebrated for her skill. The original human male was replaced by the winner's offering, becoming the new "bedwarmer". Each day for the next ten days, the queen would lay in a tub while a male hung upside-down above her. Upon her command, a drone slit the man's throat, and his hot blood showered her as she approached orgasmic bliss. She would lie there, luxuriating underneath the draining body until the blood cooled past the point of pleasure. Then she and all those present ate the flesh and drank the blood.
Although the Drow love their underground home and never plan to leave it, they have not forgotten their cruel exile at the hands of the Sylvan, and forgiveness is as foreign to a Drow as it is to an orc. Most Drow will attack a Sylvan on sight if they are reasonably certain they would survive and escape without risking retaliation. They lament their banishment from sunlight, for they can no longer survive outside on a cloudless day...
...I imagine hearing this song as the queen's lament for their estrangement to the sun.



@adriantitera2770

@@markpayne1748 You have a great name to be an Author! Excellent job on the diligence! That is something to be proud of!

Work hard, but also work smart, do research and analyze how you can get your name out there if that's what you want to do!

Great things come not usually to those who wait, but those who Act!

There is a scripture that says "Men are free to act, or be acted upon"

God Bless You and your family! Never lose hope.

Move forward with faith!



All comments from YouTube:

@twopeaksnorth8184

This game, specifically this soundtrack has a special place in my heart. Its a feeling I can't nail down.. not true sadness. A bitter solitude. A longing.. of whats lost.

@_.dace._

wot game

@user-db7ng9nv8p

Just came to realize that it had been about 5 years already, but I keep returning to this album on and on. Though I do listen to many others, I'm fond of Ruptured World, Flowers for Bodysnatchers, God Body Disconnect, Worldclock, Cities Last Broadcast works; each of these talanted ambient composers have their own unique atmosphere. I write tons of scenes easily with such an inspiring help of them.
But when I need the feel of home, an empty, cozy and full of pale light one, I always return to The Old City OST. I guess without serenity this album gives, I would burn my nerves completely.
Like with The Fountain OST, I have a blind sense of asurrance that this Atrium Carceri masterpiece will be with me for the rest of my life. Just wanted to thank you for creating it.

@honoraryaryanne6737

You and me both, the Cryo Chamber label keeps on producing memorable ambient pieces that won't grow mundane anytime soon.

@MizuRino

cheers bro!

@MizuRino

You might like this track: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0GSi8b4lu4&list=PL1E7E456C5EF08D93&index=24

@hypocriticalsatire3966

This gives me a feeling of existential nostalgia I shouldn't have

@ajmakclossay

Such a soft suave song, like a kiss through a veil. I love it

@herpderp6705

I quite like that comparison. <3

@RachelFWilliams

I just love playing this on loop... Man, it never gets old. Lol

More Comments

More Versions