1. |
Onset of Inurement
02:14
|
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|
Maggots inside my head
Spewing thoughts in webs of doubt
Mechanism within the lungs
Shed some truth upon this flesh
Non-human existence
This flesh and nerves all we have left?
To feel illusions, smother the pain
To break confusion, suffer the shame
Of guilt, of dust
Of endless distrust!
|
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2. |
Atavistic Hypocrisy
03:53
|
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|
Join the march of the sheep
To the place you all keep
Close to your heart, in the mind
Where there’s nothing to be found
Flood the valleys with your smut
Doors behind you, they are shut
Towards the fadeless shining light
Summoned are the ones of right
I am! The one who claims hell
Is your! Entangling spines
Wrapped around my neck like vines
Heavy, golden, pulsing arms
Will not falter to your charm
I have chosen not the crown
Rather die of tearless drought
Than to drink from your own mouth
Words of no sound
Fall to ground
Truth is nowhere to be found
I am! The one who claims hell
Is your! Entangling spines
|
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3. |
Saturated Abyss
03:06
|
|||
|
Aimless hunger facing inwards
The wounds it tears no longer heal
Gouging septum saunters forward
Gushing nothing but digested dreams
To whom we look for blinded guidance
Severed tendons bare no balance
Plummeting descent of the high-minded
Saturated abyss of smut and gold
Inhuman existence transposed to bottom feeder
No steps in sight, no light in mind
Waves of decrement wash us over
Names to oblivion, become recondite…
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4. |
Belgrave
04:00
|
|||
|
This city's a grave! Words of a dying slave!
This city's a grave! Dreaming of a better day!
This burning lust! Is nothing more than put to dust!
This burning lust! Buried within, beneath the rust!
Invisible chains drowning our hopes, hugging the pain, can’t cut the ropes
Daggers in red, blue and white sow in me the grains of wrath
We do not see any border lines
But they are carved in our flesh, they are engraved in our spines
Familiar flock of insidious birds
Chasing me down to break my wings
Hear my voice, hear my words,
This slave flies, as my pain sings
ГРOБ!
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5. |
Let the Sleeper Sleep...
01:55
|
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6. |
||||
|
"I'll miss the sea, but a person needs new experiences. They jar something deep inside, allowing him to grow. Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken."
Dune, Frank Herbert
|
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