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lyrics

great heathens bound to the axis
master calling, crimson his smiles pointed and narrow, condemned
this anger, this power, severs the function falling into the gutter
believer, given the rod
bend to the master, sit in the doorway,
under the halos. torment
his path, this way we dance to the gallows
nailed to the plank
to the eager: your graves lay high on the hill
may you stay dry when the floods come
to the brave: your graves wait alone in distant lands
but the soil there will welcome you
to the holy: your graves adorned with ornate wood
that will rot the same as you do
the reaper stood upon the hill,
a nest of man, each arm a cog in the wheel
machine of flesh, throwing stones
these witnesses, all present, all here
all are nothing, here before the grave
to the artist: beauty has no meaning in the grave
you’re just feed for the worms
to the decadent: you’ll take nothing with you to the grave
no value where you’re going
to the jester: your words means nothing, garbage all the same your laughter is hollow
to the fool: you go blindly towards that center
like a moth to the flame

credits

from Dystopian Misanthropy Vol. 1, released July 6, 2023

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Plagues - Black Metal

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