1. |
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Subsume yourself into the greatest design
Worship this acausal, final shape
Exigencies of creation
Regency of hungering swords
Become numerous and fertile as seeds in rich flesh
Become as hungry as tumors in rich flesh
We are not the deep itself
We only move within it
You shall too
You shall venerate and study it and haunt it
Drink of poison, so you might feed on death
Serve that violent arbiter, or turn away and be eaten
Become numerous and fertile as seeds in rich flesh
Become the children, the tumors pouring from sin
There is a knife for you
Pick it up
Use it
It's shaped like
sideways
numberless
division
retaliation
Extol the changing blade
Shape, and reshape
Form
Assume the changing blade
Shape, and reshape
Death
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2. |
The Marker, The Key
06:20
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Paralyzed, broken down, resisting will get you nowhere
Pain, torment, feel them reaching in, twisting a mind once pure to sin
Cold, cold licking at your limbs, no fear, but joy at rapturous release
Searching, seeking what was lost, finding nothing, but death’s head grinning at your foolishness
Void, empty fucking soul – this is what we’ve done with you, divine flesh, the corpse of our ascension
It will recombine, we will redefine
The boundaries of your flesh, Through breaking of your bones
Most cruel progeny, Unleashing Satan’s hunger
Unending bleeding blight, We bring flesh bound Hell!
Bold, deformities
You shall drive forth
The exultant final shape
As simulacra of the marker
You shall hatch the key in the graves of stars
Thin, light
The pulse of death now overwhelming
You dream forever of gnashing teeth
Your sword drinks forever in the throats of gods
Infinite retribution
Do not mistake yourself as free, your power is ours!
Thrall of lambent deterioration
Your will is not your own, exist to bleed for the marker, the key!
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3. |
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Smoking Skin
In the Pogrom's din
Lost Soul redeemed, reborn
Through sprawling mire
Of the infinite pyre
To witness the ascension of the horns
No hope here
But the smell of fear
Damned to feed the engines of Hell's scorn
One dream left
To end all breath
Not one human spirit left to mourn
A pox is born for them
The grace of his good will
Not one anthrop leech
Escapes the poison of his blood
Charnel house world
Sinking
In the pity of rot
Dregs drag the lion
Through the blood of his own cubs
Old wounds made gangrenous
Abominate
And Free
Ruined noble
Unhappiest lord
No one knows him now
But they will know
The wrath of those black eyes
Merciless
There's a star in the east that hangs for him
That god unknowing
That its light shall be his food
That its pride shall be his offering
Not one sweeter taste
Than of idols ground to dust
And in the wake of the blacked out moon
Pure in her revenge
The champion sings the requiem
Lacrimosa dies illa
Qua resurget ex favilla
Juricandus homo reus
Pie Satan Domine
Dona eis requiem
Mourn
Unforgiven, scourge of all
Know I am thy father
Come to take thee home
To the sorrow of your sin
Bleed, human chattel, mourn!
Full of tears will be that day
When from the ashes shall arise
The lot of man to be judged
Therefore lay waste their world
Precondemned in shame
Merciful lord Satan
Grant them eternal rest.
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