1. |
Advanced Spider Research
05:37
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I can’t believe it’s how it ends.
You won’t believe the way it’s coming.
Too horrorshow to comprehend,
And so mundane it’s almost funny, hey...
Ashes and stains.
Born on the gallows.
Ashes and stains.
Skin dust and shadows.
You’re gonna hate the way it ends.
Our clever ones were not so clever.
Our battle choosers chose themselves.
Our lines to heaven all got severed, hey.
So pure and noble in our birth,
I never promised happy endings
Our labor’s wage is misery
Now let us wallow in our spendings, hey.
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2. |
Corpse Discipline
03:49
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Joy, no joy at all.
Nails. And horsehair dolls.
Crawl. Crawl back to me.
Ropes. A cadaver cuddle.
Corpse Discipline.
Open your lips.
Corpse Discipline.
Lance and drain your head.
Rise, oh pulpy mess.
Shed. Your earth-stained dress.
Empty is the way to be!
I feel nothing and I see everything!
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3. |
Wolfmaster General
04:36
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Little kid parts in a bubbling pot.
A coven’s black mass and the blasphemy’s hot.
The old man wakes up and the nightmare stops.
But not for her, but not for her.
There’s three in a tree
and there’s four on the floor.
The witchfynder’s back and he’s covered in gore.
His funny little dick doesn’t work anymore.
It’s all for her, his mocking bird.
And I just smile as the axe comes down.
Bow your head for your thorny crown.
,
How are you still alive, my dumb little bird.
The light won’t leave his eyes,
But mine are on hers.
The butcher of god, holy guts in his hair.
He’s burning them all on the pyres in the square,
The flames cleansing him in their shadows and glare,
His blasphemy, his purity.
The one who escapes who is haunting his dreams.
He pounds on her door while he cries and he screams.
It’s a pile of rags animated by me.
The wolfmaster lies and the witchfynder dies.
How are you still alive, my dumb little bird.
The light won’t leave his eyes,
But mine are on hers.
He looks to the sky,
creeping pink of the dawn.
He looks at his hands,
and he sees what he’s done.
The carnage he’s wrought
in the name of his god.
His dead faith blurred,
his lusty bird.
He falls to his knees.
I approach from behind.
My paw reaches out
and his service is mine.
The witches swarm through
carry him to the sky.
His screams unheard
our mocking bird.
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4. |
White Eyes
04:37
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White Eyes
She's given up on the material world.
I've given up on material girls.
Come little girl
To the back of the woods
I'll show you the trees where all the warlocks hung.
She likes the hunt
I like the kill
We love the
Blood in our eyes
And semen skies
Piss in our
Hair in her face
Moon in her eyes
Dirt in her
Smile at the cross
Half buried, inverted and charred.
Some call it obscene.
She’s dead set on a gruesome end.
I’m just looking for a casket friend.
Fall on me love.
To the dirt of our grave
And the bloody roots that forever keep us young.
She likes the filth
I love the filth
We call to
Wolves in the woods
And full-moon skies
Piss in our
Hair in her face
Moon in her eyes
Dirt in her
Smile at the cross
Half buried, inverted and charred.
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New Goth Champs Seattle, Washington
Goth's new champions call you to the back of the woods where all the warlocks hang.
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