Idols Of Chagrin Lyrics - Parched With Thirst Am I And Dying - Celtic Frost

What kind of race, lack of direction 

Just how lunatic, to have a nature so deceit 

Bewail my reverie, a gambol untried 

Lure of carnality and silence in forfeit 

Animals, enslaved to pearls of fictionalized worth 

Creatures, born from caves into simulated mirth 

I'm talking, Idols of Chagrin 

Born of posession, complacement in disguise 

Craving and candid, as to defy the character's fall 

The kisses you drain, pedestrian pedigree 

What's thought is pain might be desire after all 

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