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Prowler In The Yard (Deluxe Reissue)

by Pig Destroyer

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $10 USD  or more


  • T-Shirt/Apparel + Digital Album

    Includes unlimited streaming of Prowler In The Yard (Deluxe Reissue) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $20 USD or more 


  • T-Shirt/Apparel + Digital Album

    Includes unlimited streaming of Prowler In The Yard (Deluxe Reissue) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 3 days
    Purchasable with gift card

      $36 USD or more 


semen tastes like gunmetal she said smiling. the arms of boys drowning in fire reaching for the rungs of my rib cage. these pills i take in the witching hour. i imagine i am swallowing you.
they heckle the gunshy assassin. led away in shame. the chameleon is my favorite animal. i learned that boys in dresses are okay on the last day of school. there was a rainbow like a halo over the world.
half in darkness she stands in a dress of shrapnel, smoke and torn flags. dragging off cigarettes of human skin. eyes like cracked eggshells empty as life. her index fingers drip mothers milk like hypodermic needles. she stumbles through my veins high on ash and dry semen fiending for love.
fingerprints on my eyes like ten tiny maps to heaven. or ten rogue angels torching the house of god. i feel something pressing against my kidneys. maybe a pair of wings. maybe the ghost of a bullet.
stitched together into this beautiful monster animated by starlight. pose like a fashion corpse and shed your denim skin my love. it is just a skull full of chlorine in the septic tank.
religion in the corner of the eye. a peeping tom and a hole in the sky. the last stall on the left as our makeshift confession booth. your parents will never know. stalked by a child’s nightmare. the promise of serpents in the tall grass. mother i’ve been raped in the shadow of the watchtower.
happy birthday you broken child. of the barbed ribs and the poison heart. i would show you the view of life from the floor but the knees are as far as you go. i give you exhibit a. a country girl bludgeoned with an elephant tusk. i give you everything i have wrapped in a shy kiss for you to use once and then destroy
androgynous we are. ancient statues deformed in desert winds. dead children play in mapplethorpe grey. midnight orgies at the school for the blind. learn to feel all over again. my name isanonymous. i taste like everyone. medication blurs the last five percent.
lovely body twisted into code. saying something profound i’m sure. she went off like a living firework. trauma is sexy.
once colorful dreams now swing like dead paratroops from the naked trees. your sky lips and snow skin are sugar for the carrion perched high atop the naked trees. a flower on a bed of brittle leaves. a mass grave of tiny angels fallen from the heavens of the naked trees. rot beautiful creature all lifeless and serene. a patch of scorched earth. naked beneath the naked trees.
i sneak a sniff of her live wire hair. it is bright red with random sparks. my bionic sister teaches me inhumanity. parting her silver thighs and making love obsolete.
i dream sometimes of a brother in red. the first unborn. perhaps the son of god aborted and tossed in a garbage bag. life is black comedy. slapstick and vulgarity. unworthy of the name. i still remember where mine went so wrong. my last night in sodom and my first morning in hell.
an entire year of you in a single speck of blood. the gun smiles your smile and the razor whispers your name. they are just frigid hands from the other side of the world leading me into winter.
dyed red hair, a forest green dress and a pair of kitchen knives. it was the last time i ever saw a rose.
my skin has atrophied. it has been so long since the last touch. the maggots play their dead instruments for me. devour in the key of e. like a symphony of throats and piano wire. like explosions in space and prostitutes of fire.
this is an advertisement for the skin machine. paid for by the people that supply the lash for these pointless acts of self-flagellation. the vultures are made up like mockingbirds and they’re circling. it is very important that i make for a thin chalk outline.
traced in wet sand her name in perfect cursive. a love letter to the crescent moon. by tomorrow it will be gone I told her. there is no tomorrow she said. i can feel her in a bikini of coiled snakes dancing to the hiss of the wind. postcards from a paradise in flames. she used to be so right. so right about everything.
dear everything. today i witnessed a crucifixion in pink and lavender and gold. i’ve heard people say that beauty is in the details, but i don’t think they have ever seen you. there were mortal wounds inflicted on the sky and incriminating blue stains on my shirt. the shirt you bought for me. christ it hurts. like stars in my belly going supernova. i feel like a zombie that refuses to live. haunting the junkyards and cutting myself on scraps of you. the other day i masturbated to pictures of you at your birthday party. they were the only ones i still had. it felt so wrong. just like my life. i hope i’m dead by the time you read this. i love you.
my knuckles are bleeding on your front door and these flowers are wilting in the rain. they were for you and now they are for no one. they are irrelevant as mercenaries in times of peace. they are smoke twisting off the lips of a movie star. here is a boy with paper skin who longs to touch the girl ofbroken glass. she loves it when he wears his skin like that. in tatters.
i see you headless with me caressing your neck. my personal nightfall. an eclipse of the sunflowers. i feel so invisible. so unknown. a coffin of dust. an illegible tombstone. they finally buried the gravedigger in the sky. i just need to shower in your amber and bathe in your earth.


Deluxe reissue of one of the most important grindcore albums of all time!

Fully remixed and remastered by guitarist Scott Hull and including a never-before-heard bonus track, expanded artwork, exclusive photos and new liner notes including the complete Decibel Magazine Hall of Fame piece on the album. 2CD set limited to 2000 copies and includes the original version of the album.


released September 4, 2015

2015 Relapse Records


all rights reserved



Pig Destroyer Alexandria, Virginia

PIG DESTROYER boil metal down to its muscle, sinew, and bone - razor-sharp guitar, percussive pummeling, and a lone, stark howl - and use them to commit a vicious assault. The lyrics paint loathsome, frightening images of pitch-black self-hatred and the frailty of the human experience. These musical manifestations only serves to cement their already legendary status. ... more


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