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The Capital in Ruins

by Spiral

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This is part 1 of a planned trilogy of records telling the story of Rip and his daughter Anomoly. To listen to part 2 “The Traveler” please follow this link: And look forward to part 3, which is in the works

Rip liked diseases. He didn’t like what they did to people, but he could appreciate the strength and brutal beauty of their operation. He liked diseases the same way he liked machines. These were his hobbies. Diseases and machines. He spent most of his life focusing his studies on one or the other and grew up to be an unremarkable scientist. Unremarkable, until he mashed his two favorite things together.

After years of research he created a machine, small as a disease, able to infect organic material and change it on a molecular level. With this small invention he had cured death, in theory. He had to test it on someone. Ethics forced him to inject himself. The shock to his body was painful and psychologically terrifying, but he lived through it. Within a few hours he had complete control of his molecular makeup. He could program the machines to make him look any way he wanted. They kept him in top physical shape and repaired injury to his body instantaneously. Rip’s strange hobbies granted him immortality.

Because of the shock to his body during the change, Rip decided to make the mixture a little weaker. The next person he injected had a mild, almost comfortable, changeover. Within the next three years everyone on Rip’s small planet had taken the injection. Five years later the problems started, and within ten years everyone on the planet was dead, except Rip. The problem was in the dosage. Rip’s dosage was so strong that his body never had a chance to fight back, but when he lowered the dosage, the machines had to mount a battle against the host’s regular defense mechanisms. Unfortunately, the result was death.

Once the people started to die Rip’s machines instinctively shut down all of his bodily functions until all danger was past. To him it felt like he was asleep. He woke up twenty years later to an old decayed world.


released May 3, 2011

Spiral is:

Chris Boat – Vocals, Bass, Keyboards, Guitar
Aaron Frale – Guitar

This album also features:

Senda Shallow - Vocals
Denzel Thompson – Vocals
Casey Mraz – Lead Guitar

Spiral wishes to thank: Junko Boat for helping with the keyboard in “Beyond the Edge of Time”, and Tony Bunce for all the “Likes” (We see you Tony, and we appreciate it!)

All songs written and recorded by Spiral at Frontroomstudios. ©2011 All Rights Reserved.




Spiral Albuquerque, New Mexico

Chris, Aaron, and Bill, the three constant members of Spiral are desert born. They played childish games amongst dunes and cacti and now, their music breathes sand.

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Track Name: Beyond the Edge of Time
Beyond the Edge of Time

In a city as old as time,
beneath layers miles deep,
a young man slaves away
fueled by great ideas.

And even though he’s scared,
he uses himself to test
his small machines capable
of granting life

And he can feel the change as he is reborn,
cell by cell and thought by thought.

Do you want to live forever?
Do you want to see what lies
beyond the edge of time?
Shed this mortal coil and let me
show you the way to eternity.
your life is shadowed with fear.
mortality is a veil that we must destroy.
So close your eyes relax and come with me.

But the change is too fast,
the pain too intense
so he changes the mixture and
brings it to the people.

And he’s hailed as a hero.
The savior of the people
until they all
start to die.

But his own body,
filled with a different mixture,
merely sleeps.
Waiting for the world
to be safe once more.
Track Name: The Art of Our Dwellings
The Art of Our Dwellings

Houses fall in on themselves
and pavement cracks
and everything we built is pushed aside
as nature reclaims her throne.

There’s a tower built high
that blocks the sun
and animals roam free
through stores and homes.

And abandoned subway tunnels
hide packs of dark creatures.
I’m alone here.
I’m alone here.

So our dwellings
are all that’s left
to represent us.
Every small house
is a statement of
things long gone.
How could this happen
after everything I’ve done?

Is this my fault?
Track Name: The Capital in Ruins
The Capital in Ruins

On a cold spring day
after twenty years of sleep
he finally woke.

He washed his hands
in flowing waters
and started back home.

His arms were tired
and his hands were cold
but his feet led him on.

Everything looks so familiar.
could this broken place
be his home?

His tired eyes
take in the ruined landscape.
And he’s not quite sure
if he’s awake.
Where have all the people gone?
And where were his machines
when everyone lay dying?

A bird’s lonely cry breaks the silence then fades away.
while the buildings broken faces stare back at him.
And he sits quietly and watches nature creep over his city
while he tries to maintain the shambles of his life.

During his first week
he mourned his lost people
and searched for life.

With collected remnants
he rebuilt his house
and time marched on.

His heart it ached
and his mind went wild
but his feet led him on.

Everything looks so familiar
this must be his home.
Track Name: The Memories Speak (Senda's Song)
The Memories Speak (Senda’s Song)

Even though the walls of our house
have fallen and leaves carpet our floor,
you insist that I stay.
You insist that I stay.

You forced my image onto every wall
and my words are etched
on every rotting board.
On every, on every rotting board.

Your laced fingers are steel bars.
And your doting mind is a ball and chain.
You’re stuck here in this lonely place
please don’t force me to stay here with you.

Don’t force me. Please don’t force me.

Your quiet contemplation causes only pain.
And your obsessive recollection serves no end.
So lock away my memory and set us both free.
You are free to go on living, just let me go.
Track Name: Without Others
Without Others

One hot afternoon beneath the scorching sun
a small puddle in his rotten garden reveals
the corner of an unused safe and deep within
lies a lost hope for a lonely old scientist who
has forgotten his art but he remembers
his daughter’s small hand.

Birds whistle in summer’s new foliage.
stray dogs lap up rain puddles in the road.
and his heart beats fast
with the promise of rebirth.

now the houses are unstable
so he has to build his own.
And the food is all gone
but the ground can produce.
And he remembers every piece
of food he ever threw away.
And he’s haunted by all the
clothing he used to ignore.
And slowly, day after day,
he begins to hate who he was.

And he can never go home.
And she’s gone forever.
And he can’t refuse
this new life he’s been given.

but his eyes are open
to every small change.
And his heart it breaks
with every passing day.
And he can’t help
but to wonder aloud
if this punishment
has gone too far.
And without others
he can’t quite tell
if he’s really here
or if this is all something
he’s imagined.

And he’s forced to eat old memories
and lick his greasy fingers.
And every morsel is so empty
and his stomach grumbles
after every bite.
But his heart fills,
drop by drop,
as he relives his old life.

But deep within the decayed old safe
he finds a sealed container
that holds the blueprint of the life
he created and later destroyed.