Burn the Priest
EP • 1998
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
Shorn of apocryphal pride, the locks fall, predicting strife. Cranium exposed, denial of aesthetic. Push it a little farther, all of this into ashes, all of this torn to rags. I don’t know what the fuck have I become? Synapses snapping. Mortality decimated. Breakdown, whiskey shifts hate into overdrive. Realizing it’s murder of the self so clean. I don’t know what the fuck have I become? Hand reaching out, desecrates impunity. Ripping away foundation’s identity, replacing with shame. Transgressions mythologized, indiscretions immortalized. Anger inflamed with dry rot, pushing towards severance. What a bloody mess. Visit dark sites unknown, grief lands like a ton of bricks. All of this burnt to ashes, all of this torn to rags…
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025
{I'm gonna spit on you, I'm gonna curse the day you were born, and I'm sure while I'm standing there I'm gonna have to have other bodily functions lettin' go upon your grave.} The public wants what the public gets. Lazarus himself wouldn’t rise into the world of today. Decry relativity. What? Damned petulant for seeing through a Trojan horse full of zyklon, while Judas’s coffers overflow. New world (dis)order is nothing new. Choking on poison air, pouring whiskey into crescent moon laceration. Time to bite the hand that beats, teach our children well - teach them to kill. Global jyhad for a thousand years. Sanctified, our blood spills. Sutured with commodities. Iron fist in silken glove, ripping away autonomy, replacing with a placebo. A silken glove, ripping away autonomy. Realize that our wounds will never heal while Judas’s coffers overflow...
Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025
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