We have paved the roads that have led to our own oppression. Fear of the unknown, of rejection, has put brutes and villains in power. The fetters that restrict our arms and throats were cast by our own hands, just as we have set our own guards at the door. We drag boulders a thousand leagues to erect their palaces. We have established a system of education that celebrates sacrifice and creates generations of slaves. Hold hands in a ritual of deception. Hold hands in a ritual of desolation. Hold hands in a ritual of self destruction. We are the accomplice class: footstools for our masters, spineless bastards all.
Track Name: An Age Imprisoned
One thousand shattered mirrors could never erase this grotesque image from my mind. The chains of one million addictions can never ease the discomfort of my consciousness. Every waking thought centered on this weak, despicable, hideous shell. In stance and walk and all movement--secrets are laid bare. Nothing left, but our eyes cannot meet. Clearly, repugnance dances across your face as you silently laugh at the misshapen husk shambling before you. Trapped in this decaying tomb, trapped in this wretched prison--confined to flesh.
Track Name: Belt of Fire to Guide Me, Cloak of Night to Hide Me
Red am I in battle. Red the ravens at my heels. I will keep no terms with my enemies. Always on the point of perishing, always in danger--but to give an inch, to make any compromise, a single concession--is defeat. Burn away these eyes that seek weakness. May their quests lead them to the wolves-- to fang, to claw, to axe, to sword.--tearing, ripping, cleaving, left by the wayside of man. Red am I in battle. Red the ravens at my heels.
Track Name: Burning Black Coals and Dark Memories
My mistakes light up the sky, a horde of blazing stars through night's black curtain. They guide me safely along an endless passage over dangerous waters. From the summit of a towering mountain, leaping at once to a jagged shoreline, flesh and muscle impaled. I have destroyed that bridge, but the gift of strength and defiance can never be damaged. If my haven is but a weight chaining me to stagnation, then I must call to the thunder to break these bonds, escape into the chaos of the burning sands, and surround myself in self destruction. And surround myself in deconstruction. So it is the consequence of exploration and expansion. Alone--self discovery. Recognition of power. Isolate intelligence. I am the emissary. I am the balance. I am the beginning. I am the end.
Track Name: They Stretch Out Their Hands
The fire's light casts shadows across the faces of abandoned gods. Looming stone monoliths stand silently as a pantheon of superstition burns: emotional immolation. The thorned crown of self sacrifice, the horns and fur of immature rebellion, the false personification of nature--gives way to this passionate holocaust, to a reawakening of reason, to the triumph of the will. The stars' dull shine offers not approval nor any earthly feeling. It only illuminates our naked forms. Throw your frail bodies down. Throw your white bodies down. Throw your skinny bodies down. Throw your pale bodies down.
Track Name: The Road of Many Names
Pale-skinned, marsh dwellers, emerge from your murky caves. Wanderlust takes hold. The way stands clear, a gaping maw set to swallow the future. We travel across the burning sands to an open coast, greeted with waves of indifference. Northward--over mountains which rise like spears offering twisted paths, crooked smiles at the abysmal nothingness above. Oh, these sour times. We return covered in rags and our filth, dissension in our ranks like our closest friend. Home has been sacrificed in the harvest of experience.