1. |
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My own set below and ebb, parched
Skinless, muted, bare bags of flesh
I heal, I lie here
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2. |
Scabs and Myrrh
03:12
|
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Strangled with a fiber chord
Biting into the neck through the abrasions
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3. |
A Visceral Burrow
04:01
|
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I hew the clotted gold from your coarse veins
Mine, thieve your graceless caves
Séance in a hollowed corpse
Your walls discharge a liquid breath
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4. |
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Bask in the turbulence of the shards
Atrocities molded into man
Chafes shrouding their skins
A Limb in each corner
The emptiness is so poignant
Not a single reason is greater than the other
When it comes to taking a life
All of them are equal
All of them are good enough
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5. |
Moaning Altars
02:03
|
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Gaping holes
Pierced by the doctrine of guilt
Limp and deprived of consciousness
Gnawed by lightless morality
Bled empty on the moaning altars
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6. |
Ochre Hue
02:37
|
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The choirs howl distorted
As the living pine for the dead
The ochre engulfs the stained bodies
Raped and murdered without remorse
As the living pine for the dead
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7. |
Wombs
05:22
|
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Drain and salt the wombs of mothers
Rejoice the barren, fruitless flesh
Voice the unconscious unwanted
Drain and salt the wombs
A toxic fallow body left
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