1. |
The Labor is Finished
01:22
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|
Here is the ox, toiling under the sun
Cracking the earth, pulling in line
Beyond the sun's zenith, drowned in perspiration
What cruel mater propels it forward?
Bittersweet fruit from the lowest branch
The only prize fit for a fiend
The soil gets fed and cries out dismay
Laying stone until only bone remains
Thus kicked into a pit
Only mulch as comfort
Cast-out, crook-back leper
Burdened with shaking hands
Walls closing in as a sepulcher, curtain falling down as a guillotine
The soul is waiting, the neck is begging
|
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2. |
Caustic Dregs
03:00
|
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|
Dominion far overreached
Anguished wails accompany
The squabble of hushed chants
Slanted choir manifests
Bound to the whipping post
Under arches they impose
Forced attempts to coalesce
Brought to the precipice
To the end of man witness
Cast the runes and meet your fate
Clinging, flocking, begging
Breeding in the gutters, parasitic forms
The hymn of mediocrity rings clear and true
Cast the runes and prepare to meet Fate's hammer
Clinging, flocking, begging
Triumphant in dissolution
Serpentine opposition
Master of no fate
Oracle cries, deaf ears
Clinging, flocking, begging
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3. |
Gardens of Agony
02:14
|
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|
We have returned to the gardens of agony
Across the eons, drifting uncertainty
The ouroboros—cyclic suffering
Despite our triumphs, perpetual defeat
We will lose every time
We concede everything
We fold so readily
We will lose every time
And through the isles we shall walk
Behold the fruits of miserable labor
We'll look to the stars, beyond a doomed canopy
And ask ourselves: Is this salvation?
Silent skies wash over the dread grounds
|
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4. |
||||
|
Bless me, bless thee
Walking on earth as if the sun, surrendered to failings of a black diction
Bless me, bless thee
Ruinous state of latency, the blade that cuts deep but not cleanly
Bless me, bless thee
Circles walked backwards in the sand, digging out the marrow of primitive man
Bless me, bless thee
To the eternal womb the flight, propagated speech in the vacuum of light
Bless me, bless thee
Deep in the water you are cleansed, suture the life that refuses to mend
Page penned by the unscrupulous hand
Volumes of histories boiled in the cauldron
Drown to breath, be born anew
Falsified records deep in the archives of lost memory
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5. |
Stygian Helix
05:48
|
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|
At the end of the endless maze, where time stands still
You'll seek what you never sought, you'll think of what you never thought
And through the breach you will fall weightlessly into the maelstrom
A nexus of pain, pleasure, fear
Flesh rendered and mind flayed
The kingdom beckons you
Fate unfurls its vile claw, and you will know tranquility
That for which you have longed on a quest so perilous
O Pilgrim, journey home
The gates, rusted in dilapidation, welcome thee
To thine home, entrance is granted
Flee to fleeting finality and upon the marble know universal eventuality
O Pilgrim, journey home
|
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