lirik lagu feral birth - necropo.lys
“…and ‘t chars my heart not to be now with thee
the east horde is coming to conquer the west
the best i may choose might hasten the release
but i will not be putting my anger to rest
and here, with my beard—with my all~damaged hair
just heir to the throne…
been stripped to the bone…)
i rise from the deep to avenge the lost chair
from our lair to their snares, “let us in!”
marble stairs…
“for i love thee…”
“for thee i’ll k!ll…”
“this is
to ease
thine
and my pain…”
…five. s~x. seven. hate!
a golden reich of wrongs and rights
once at its heights of plenitude
now fallen for, split up, broke down
to vilifying servitude
a gifted heart, master o’ arts
not yesterday the head of kings
today but a grave slave to a doom
too soon swooped upon to ravish bold wings
a promised realm amongst the seams
of future dreams; the poetry
of silken webs, and nylon threads
weaving their way to arcady
twain daring hearts, ne’er to part
for ever bound together, now
in the pay of their pain, separation, and loss
yet still the glossa of love, as above so below
l!cking sour, bitter wounds
will speak for all
“the enemy’s descended
upon us like the beast
commissions are to be mended
now the needle points the east
the time hath come, undone i rave and rove about the grove
of hope impaired—i choke and reel from suffocated love
the knife has been already
twisted and the die is cast
i must not let their steady
penetration venture past
the last stronghold of defence and defiance; shall i be half~frozen, staring at their foul conqueror’s revelry?
no…!”
the golden reich, bereft of light
prepares to face the longest night
“the enemy, deceiver might’ve torn the bridal cover
but they will not quench the fever that’s made us betrothed lovers
my bet is set; i know i’ll get their standard back to where it doth belong: a cloth among swine squirting in their f~cking lair!”
the likely lovers, rolled it over
prepare to meet again
“…i slay the conqueror, cruel, and drink of his blood
i’ve laid siege to their siege;
fueled, now herald the flood of sweet tears, for my dear love is near—in a day
all our nights shall be restored and the fear swept away…
i prey on their triumph just to celebrate their loss
i raise the eastern flag amidst the vast meadows of moss
and toss it, while i scorn ’em, so to exorcise, in bliss
their nasty ghost—i’ll make a toast to… waiting for her kiss!
“for i love thee…”
“for me thou k!lledest…”
“this was
our post—
mine is thine…””
…four. five. six. heaven. eight!
the golden reich, regained their might
thrived on their rulers’ fortitude
built~up again— forevermore free
to enjoy grandeur and plenitude
the parted hearts, conjoined at last
took pleasure in their own beat’s glow
but, n0blesse oblige, they were now in league
with something more than before—as above so below
l!cking sour, bitter wounds
love spake for all…
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