Book of the dead, pages bound in human flesh. Feasting the beast, from the blood the words were said. I am unseen, dreamt the sacred passage aloud. Trapped in a dream of the necronomicon.
No lord shall stand before myself. . I can strike the light and see through the truth. For I'm the Deicide, Dominus, what could you do. Thou has failed you now, once again and always will.
Out of my mind into a world between. In search of the ancient artistry. Lord Kur, before your sword I see. The house of death is opening. Hanging from their primal sleep.
Death is now the day. When the fires fall from the sky. Let us pray. When the darkness falls we will die. Endless pain. Crucifying death from above. We must pay.
[Burzum cover]. . Imellom buskene vi stirret paa de. Som minnet om andre tider. Og fortalte at haapet var borte. For alltid.... . Vi hoerte alvesang og vann som.
Unity of black souls,. Speech from talent. Shell the shadow slower,. Returns the avatar. Prepared for a long time,. Since the sinking began. The God hates the religion,.
Flickering lies glazed cornea creating cerebral corpses. A senseless data overload a prime time hypnosis bow to idiot box. Self-induced anueretic sty waves flat line.
Spoken sideways and indirect. Without a single word left unchecked. And by your own admission. No one is ever above suspicion. Defenses never to be let down.
[Incomprehensible] of the opal banded finger. I will throw you into a concentric mental decline. I control your elation, I control your emotion. I take as I wish memory, clothed in a raiment noir.
We are in this world, not of it. Spreading like vermin, the last, last of the breed. We are in this world, not of it. Spreading like vermin, the last, last of the breed.
The river I'm bound to be found in. A rope chosen bound for the hang. When I'm blinded I think I see everything. Convincing myself again. . this god that I worship (a faded reflection).
And you may tremble before hell's gates. You may watch as the heavens fall. And you may cite the hands of fate. You may heed the siren's call. . And you may reach every golden shore.
Allocate your future to the delegates. Relegate your muses to the surrogates. Long green apron stings that end in hooks. Sunk deep, written off, and on the books.
From the unrelenting beat of a pounding drum. (Come anew). From the seizing breast of a wicked beast. (We survive). In the hallowed marriage of sound and revolt.
And when the underworld's. Best kept secrets. Saw it's own reflection. I knew things had finally changed. For better or worse. Whatever as always. . Midlife fires start to burn.
This morning there are no rods or staffs to comfort you. Dressed as a target as you amble in your chains. Stumble through the corridors that lead to our makeshift valley of death.