1. |
Intro: Fylth Idolatry
01:04
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2. |
Violated into Godhood
03:33
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a mere bud to quell our famished longing
a fell oracle, vexed to irate
yet a sprout, yearning to belong
a hex of blackness calls us to rape and blemish
emblemish the womb
the priests that bent knee to the older gods
yet have to taste horrors fresh and wet with birthwater
for her to flower into something other
an idol from our fears
carved and traced into innocent skin
a mark of guilt and vile
the accuser foremost bends a knee to the wight claimed unseen
carved and traced into fecund flesh
a mark of burden and baal
the accuser foremost bends a knee to the wight claimed unseen
the accuser foremost bends a knee when he is crushed under great pressure
a purebred divine conceived in the gutters of mankind
gestation from terror and starvation
to bloom into our looming undoing
a caged babe, beaten and hated, and loved
and held, and forced to our loins
the key and gate to the endless and ever
athetosic nightfall
for her to bloom into something other
our gloam-petaled, deep-rooted, looming undoing
into an idol of our fears
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3. |
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welcome
to your very own banquet of suffering
sit and be drunk with fright
cast off any care, yet lingering
for a hopeful future shared
and tales of joy
a bite refused, a whisper, unamused
baleful wisps, roaming realities, fused
the pain of gazing to your daughter's severed, platter-served head
crazed with glee, of arcane matters dreaming
a conscience torn by the throes of loveborn bittersweet scorn
timeless forlorn echoeing screams in desperate need for shelter, endless
lymphatic ale with a side of stitched kin
offered in elation by the whims of the Golden Witch
I heed your yearning, honoured guest
yet the door you long to pass
is shut
in a banquet or few, you shall return
when time twists and churns as your gut
welcome
to your very own banquet of suffering
sit and be drunk in fright
scream louder, you insolent whore
at the whims of the Golden Witch
your daughter is mine
your future is mine
your life and your death
time and time again
You have nothing to fear, dear guest
as I speak on your request, you will return to yesteryear
with time's twists and turns as your gut
your daughter is mine
your future is mine
your life and your death
time and time again
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4. |
Moonscorched
03:28
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fain to bowels knead, lesser ghoul, hunger over wit avail
bide to the chains, lest the hanged tharm be yours
he will thee betray, and speak a falsehood dozen.
a throng of your kin cattled to slather in gore by your own hand
thou bade my kiss to aide thy wretched will
festered in your heart stand still
thou bade my kiss to aide thy wretched will
festered in your heart stand still
a curse in catarrh to the moon and those blinded by its glow.
splintered off thine idol, imbedded in my skin
no sense's loss nor hurt befell despite of sin
despite the fruit I ate, vigor full and wet
no hurt hath beget, nor ruin my fate.
to turn me, turn me dead
lop off its mound, my head
dowse in my blood, jeerful crowd atop,
your god to rust rightfully red
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5. |
Athetosic Apotheosis
05:11
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on our lone journey we saw what none should ever know
when fear takes hold, to what end do we keep going
what compels us to press on, after each limb we lost
the horrors we fought and the decay of our thoughts?
but for me it was too late either way
to turn back after the years in a cage
with their help I'll take the agony ahead
and the dread that lies in wait behind that gate
as we take step into these depths I feel something's amiss
gloom fills me and I cannot escape its grip
the gods of yonder have long left behind these cursed grounds
only traces of their wonders/horrors can be found
their pillars, once pristine, now brittle and with fissures riddled
split and filled by moss and stained they reek of rot and piss
bated breath from my companions staring into the abyss
their lovely hands reach to comfort me as my body starts to twist
what trickery led me to reach for
the wish long exorcised
was it the warmth of another
or some greater design
who cares
it hurts
please
it hurts so much
reduced to a weeping mess, a pitiful existence
ache deep and festering, I spit a bloody mist
my eyes and gut leak pus, as violence I dispense
no hope, no rest, my soul defleshed, my suffering immense
the gash widens unrelenting from between my legs
even more grueling than the countless times I was forced into sex
by those guards whose dicks would force girls twice my size apart
I split from my anus through my navel to my heart
why do you have to look at me like that
it is as though I am the source of your dread
my core and will are twitching from the cold
with your rejection colder still
I stare at thee doll and the blade at my transfigured feet
I smile at my friends and their faces start to violently bleed
my innards folded and great tension has my veins pulled
why has no one told me that ascension is so painful
at the the zenith of my being, a strange peace
and absolute contempt for all I see are merging within me
a god fetile, defined by hellish hostile plasma
heartrot spawning bile and I breathe and belch miasma
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RORIGØRE Todesfelde, Germany
Brutal Death Metal Duo from Canada and Germany.
FUNGERSLAM
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