1. |
Doxology
04:17
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Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye hea'nly hosts
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Amen
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2. |
The Foul Eucharist
06:46
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The innate instinct of God is to consume
All He creates
All He speaks into existence with His fetid breath
Is to die and be devoured by soil
The dead are consumed
Excreted to feed the mangled pelt of the earth
And consumed again
In this endless cycle of death
Adulation is extorted
Praises are bled
From the ever-crackling throats of a wheezing proletariat
God ingests and creates in substitution
All substitution degrading
Ingested once more
Our beautiful, serpentine god rests
Coiled atop the universe
Ouroboros of shit
Crying out and striking as the infant does
Crying and striking
As the Holy Petulant Infant does
Blessed are we, His children
Inasmuch as the young crocodile is blessed to be the sustenance of its mother
We, given in baptism to His holy saliva
We, purified within His divine gut
We, reborn, crawling from the profane yolk of His ebullient feces
May the exalted stench of His afterbirth guide us into each others’ arms
As we cower beneath His ever-flowing tears
Of Rage
And Sulfur
And Sewage
O' Lord, all powerful and bankrupt of shame
Whip our backs and take us into Your frail arms
To chew our weeping faces
To pass us back into the sour soil
Again and again
Forever
There was only ever one design: Suffering
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3. |
Simony Of Hollow Christs
05:52
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"Shall we use Your Holy Shroud
To cover the most profane blood of our young?
Yes we shall
For the garb of His bride must remain white"
Woe is the word of the Law
And the Word was with God
And the Word was God
Let His bride be ever washed in the blood of her children
Let those who speak dissonance be silenced
Let their severance be as banal as The Word
This house shall remain
Shall grow
Let the children's blood be its mortar
Invocated to metamorphosis
By those that feed on the petals that fall
From their split flesh
Cast out all dissent
And we shall grow mighty
Shall feed His toothy maw
And we feast on the scraps
Hosannah in the highest
We are blessed by your vomit
Under the banner of Jabez we forge our grand expansion
With the hollow husks of our excommunicated
We decorate our holy festival
Agnus Dei
Agnus Dei
Agnus Dei
We raise our hands to thee
No liturgy outlined
But these patterns are Holy
Banal inspiration
Banal worship
Banal communion
Banal Christ
Let us feed upon Him
Let us feed our convicted to Him
Let us drink of His blood
Let us bleed those who doubt
Christ of Corruption
Shall we use your Holy Shroud
To cover and mop the most vulgar blood of our young?
Yes, we shall
For the garb of His bride must remain white
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4. |
Swine Cull
03:15
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No excuses
No valid rationale
For such a widespread violence
Upon those that keep the machine moving
This cursed bird is bloated and wheezing
As she limps towards her death
Infected by the colonial parasite
The parasite of capital
Not corrupted
But functioning as designed
Feeding their wage slaves false promises
Of fair opportunity
Generations long dogma of an alleged meritocracy
No material evidence
Another false god
Gut the fucking pigs
Ransack where they live
Let their beds of profit
Be their fucking coffins
No mercy for those who
Reap the surplus of the
Sweat from our brows
No compromise until
We the workers get the
Freedom we've earned
Freedom from suffering to survive
Freedom from employers dictating how we live our lives
Unbound by the chains that force unethical expansion
Able to achieve true humanitarian enhancement
A material step forward to a better world
No gods
No kings
No CEOs
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5. |
The Name Above All Names
13:22
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Praise be to the Lord of the Firmament
Fuck the world as You see fit
Let the black waters ejaculate forth
Carry us away into another cull
All that is smote is a deserving victim
All that burns shall be blessed
Jehovah-M'Kaddesh
Purify us and rake us through the brine
Let the coals of Your Holy Indifference blister our iniquitous skin
That we may shed into the bright red of young nerves
That you may whip us into a new calloused holiness
Adonai
Direct us in your Holy Wars
Guide our hands as we cast down the reprobate and deviant
As we feed them to your putrid maw
Let your chains upon us extend beyond our wrists
To envelope the Earth
For Thou art the Word
And Thy Word shall be a violent storm to terraform your temple
Qanna
Forgive us our idols
Forgive us as we scramble to feed our bloated guts
Blessed be the famine You bestow upon us
That it may make us hunger for Your divine beating
Forgive us for our doubts
Forgive us for our blasphemous reason
Forgive our folly as we have looked to the stars and within ourselves
Jehovah Shammah
Thou art with us
As our shepherds prey on the flock in Your temples
Thou art with us
As our leaders take our surplus as their mortar
Thou art with us
As our sentinels slay the unpale
Thou art with us
As the men made in Your image rape the daughters of Eve
As the elders exonerate their own
As the masses mock and flay the violated
Thou art with us
All heresies against thee fall short in their assault
Proclamations of theodicy are rendered moot in their presuppositions
For all movements of Thy Hand are by their very nature Just
Each and every terror of this world is the Will of Jehovah
And thus is Righteous
We, in our pitiful depravity, genuflect before Your violent masturbations
As Your Holy Climax quakes the Earth
As the crust of Gomorrah swallows thousands
We are blessed
We offer our thanks to Thee
For it is meet and right so to do
I fall to my knees
In humility before Thy Mighty Fist
Begging for an affection I shall never earn
The embrace of You, my God
The suffocating coil around my walking coffin
Blot out all other lights
Profane and false are they
I seek only the light of the Fire in Thy Gut
I stare down the Gullet of Paradise
And such a light it is
Full of Holy Truths
Billions of bloated carcasses shall be the foundation of His Glory
Slain by sword, sickness, and His Holy Will
The Final Church is crowning
All shall be met by Your Infallible Sword
Holy is the Lamb
Perfect are His movements
Author of life
Author of genocide
One and the same
God of Devastation
Name Above All Names
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6. |
Blue Shirt//White Hood
03:54
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In a colony founded on blood
Are we surprised to see
That blood has become its currency?
These tragedies are not defects
These are functions of the host
We purge each visible blemish
But the whole of the organism is corrupt in origin
As such it thrives on exploitation
And fuels this infernal engine with a deliberate violence
There are bodies piled in the name of loyalty
These cases are peer reviewed by the world at large
Incentive to grow feeds the maw of injustice
Kickbacks keep the slave catchers working
The hands that feed black bodies into the belly of the machine are caked in blood
Pigs feeding pigs
Nonetheless the rhetoric of necessity must be avoided
For these soldiers of domestic slaughter are only there by choice
These men of the unholy cloth kill for pleasure
Make no mistake
There are no ultimatums
Each fallen civilian body falls in vain
The Golden Shield protecting its own
Their tethered communities left to rot with the corpses of their own
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7. |
Ancient Of Days
10:48
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O' Holy God
Thine eyes hath seen
The river that carves all history
That putrid flow
March of blood and bone
All movements accounted for
All souls named and known
Thy Holy Tongue spoketh deep into the seed of civilization
A truth to anchor us
That Thy Word is Thy Essence
That Your Truth is unchanging
And yet we, Babel that we are, forged new truths
Deep blasphemies that struck down
Your Holy perimeters
In our iniquity
We spared those who would seek to defy your divine assignment
In our depravity we sought to understand them
To love them
But You are unchanging
(Blessed are we)
And the God that forged the canyons
Was not a god of love
(Blessed are we)
Praise be Yahweh
Holy Punisher of impurity
Let Him purge us of our deviance
May his gilded scythe cull our reprobate
May the One True God cleanse the human stain
You are unchanging
(Blessed are we)
And the God that forged the canyons
Was not a god of love
(Blessed are we)
Praise be Yahweh
O' Ancient of Days
Let us suffer through the fire
Refine us into Your Image
An image too terrible to know
Too sacred to shed
Let us burn the earth
That the ash may mark our allegiance
Let us level the forests
To lay down the palms of Your return
Deceivers have arisen to usurp Thee
They who would guide us into an artificial light
A light of material birth
A truth based on metrics and crude matter
This truth is corrupt
This truth is constantly in flux
Save us from such obscene heresies,
God of Abraham,
And in Your Sovereign Name
We will silence those
Who spit such falsehoods
Vulgarities by many names
Liberation
Equality
Justice
All of these in procreation with each other
All of these, sin
None who propagate such degeneracy shall be spared
Not even the Son of God
Patriarch of the Universe
May Your Ancient Wrath vomit forth
Cover the mountains in Your Judgement
Bestow us with piles of bones to construct Your Kingdom
Let the marrow of the decadent be the mortar of Your Temples
Let the blood of false prophets
Precipitate to feed our harvest
All who speak against Thee
Shall only find legacy in our gut
All who question Thee
Shall find their answer in suffering
They seek to lay siege upon Your Bride
With profane weapons of science, inquiry, philosophy, and dark dialectics
Their fetid breath spewing that blasphemous word
"Why?"
An insult
An affront
A sin itself
For we have the answer
It has been, as is our God, unchanging
In the beginning was The Word
And the Word was with God
And the Word was God
And the Word has been unchanging
Has it not?
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8. |
Empty Glory
04:43
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I have lost my touch
And my grasp of the arcane has suffered
The chords of Orion go unstrung
Neither do the harps of Armageddon sing
I am weeping in a coffin of standing water
The algae has grown to replace my skin
To shed means so much more than it once did
I stand terrified of what's lost and worse
What I cannot gain
Time has marched forward while I slept in a bed of opportunity
Ghost writers dictate my passionate vociferating
Editors stop my breath before it can carve any truth out of our cacophony
An effective castration
A synthetic growth
There is a propagation of identity but nothing is truly created
And nothing worthy of timelessness is born
So I weep and whittle at the scroll
And the page mocks me
Telling me tales of what I thought I would be
Spent potential and vast worlds gone to waste
I weep in a bed of stagnant tears
Surrounded by monuments to my voice
And my words are nowhere to be found
Treading a path of second-hand glory
Vicariously living through myself
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9. |
Dead Gods
10:26
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I am deep in the valley
I am covered in the shadow
I am wallowing in the death
And I reach out for You
I cry out for You
And I hear a voice inside my head
That sounds like me
And I try to reconcile
Rationalize with apologetics
In battle against my better judgment
Spinning the wheels of my theology
To deflect the answers of questions
I'm too afraid to ask
What am I to do with this?
Such a cognitive dissonance
If the truth is really what I seek
Then why is this so threatening?
My savior so real and powerful
Reduced to a name in a gallery
My god so mighty and tall
Was it ever even You at all?
My rock
Falling apart
Without You
What is my truth?
I have been striving so long to emulate Your spirit
Why has my greatest moral conviction come in the form of denying You?
The damage I have wrought I cannot erase
But if I seek to move forward in any sort of truth
I cannot move with You
This is where I must decide
Do I pursue what is holy?
Or do I fight for what is just
Here in the terror of awareness
I see the true direction of the path I claim to walk
The destination now clouded in the most lucid of fog
I squint my eyes to try and make out Your shape
I'm searching for any remnants of You
Tracing shadows in my mind's eye
Losing Your silhouette with every detail made clear around me
I thought that it was You who found me in the dark
But now as I fumble through that same darkness
I feel the cracks in the land
But I cannot find Your hand
I know where this goes
I have always known
My perpetual fear
Now inescapable as I turn my mind south of what is sacred
Every point I obfuscated now cornering me against a painfully concrete wall
I would reject the upper hand if I could
But I can't escape the truth
Since I could form words
The only words I knew to form were in exaltation of my gods
Gods of capital, gods of patriots, gods of the status quo
I saw their flags as the Shroud of Turin
I embedded them within my skin
I knew that voice in my head was You
I knew the bones in the mountains were proof
I'm crying out to you louder than ever before
GOD PLEASE SPEAK TO ME
I am left with an echo and a moment to process
This is it
This is it
This is it
To step forward is to step alone
The return is denial
There is no compromise
Here
Now
My gods die
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Nekroi Theoi Florida
Brutal Death Metal against the status quo, from Tampa FL. On Prosthetic Records.
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