Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile

Label: Defen Society - GALY-098,Galy Records - GALY-098 • Format: CD Album, Reissue • Country: Canada • Genre: Rock • Style: Death Metal
Download Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile

Translate Email Print. Crown Of Horns 2. Slit Your Guts 3. Graves Of The Fathers 4. Dead Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile Dripping 5. Benedictine Convulsions 6. Phobophile 7. Lichmistress 8. Orgiastic Disembowelment. We hate, and so we gather By the light of the moon; The art of veneficium This we learned from you To make them grieve in their lord, Their redeemer in flames Fanned by the scorn of the children Who now curse his name.

Sire of sin, You embody me Undivine To you we congregate; None so vile, Your magnificent Crown of horns Inspires deeds maleficent. Destroy the parasite [x3]Destroy Jesus Christ.

They'll crawl in their perdition, The righteous will be lost Where gutted angels lie fucked Beneath the feunral cross; We'll dig them a mass grave soon, And bring to their knees Those who would have rescinded The laws of disease. Hell-spawned majesty, we eagerly Await the advent of the Next millennium When you will return with a swarm from Beyond to claim your carnal Lost dominion.

Slit Your Guts Pardon, please, the narrow Confinement of Ovidio Sarra E Il Suo Complesso - A Mamma Mia limbs; Unfortunately, it's necessary For your correction; Shriek to your heart's Content, if you wish; I promise you pain and Nightmares, in that sequence.

Permit me to introduce you to "Tuesday" I favor her, this pretty blade So tall and fine; Hatred and violence are not Our ways, but firm we are; Squirming is useless, so is this Colon, cry for me. Svelte is implement, Its gentle caress Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile you Bleed; its subtle curvature Dancing, deeply slit your guts.

Youre My Baby - Roy Orbison - The Legendary Roy Orbison for your own good; You need guidance, I provide; What is your pleasure? This is Mine; A welcome change! Descendants of clan That unsurped maternity hear whispers in their blood; This summons of the Fathers. Adherence to the principle Of "man by woman born" Anachronistic ritual Soon to be obsolete.

It cannot be empty. A barren womb of plenty A vacant grave must be filled. For this the Fathers' will, Material Clover In The Meadow - Pat Boone, Shirley Jones - April Love be abjure, A mother's cunt is unpure.

Sired in blasphemy, In nocturnal obeisance to rotted hearts Filled with necrolatry Reverse the life cycle be reborn through Death.

Dead And Dripping Matriarchal piety disturbed at their Vespers. Sisterly society feels the stifling whispers Anger of the dead-at-sea denied proper Interment, Dumped overboard summarily, washed down In a current. Sepulchral consideration Wrathful omen Dog removed from the casket, Dead and dripping. First stage of disintegration Piecemeal Decomposition Of the indignant deceased, submerged for What reason? Parchedness of living throats and mouths Has cracked some tongues But attempts to slake their thirst only Leads to soaking lungs.

Hearts are heavy, minds are numb, souls Oppressed Supernatural siege upon the landlocked Dead. Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile in netherfluids In their crypts, but Suffocating dryness in the catacombs. Mad at thirst, they dry To draw sustenance From a burial mound; Necrophagous fails, Aridity ends lives, More wet corpses found.

Watery warfare, and in its mist, The Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile Who cry for them, the bridges of The flaccid god. Intone a funeral rosary Blessed morbid murmur To hopefully placate the dead and End the curse of moisture. Benedictine Convulsions An ominous disembowelment The soothslayer is blinded, such is fate; Abomination to damn the eyes For the righteous, a test of faith.

Infernal visions flay their souls As their bodies contort and writhe Capricornus nocturnum haunts them, From their torment springs its delight. Impaled on one of its many legs, A bug-eyed Mary gapes on in horror As her only son is chewed to bits By spiderchrist She is flecked with gore.

Caprine morturion leads the bones Of their departed brethren In the abbey's catacombs; When gargoyles vomit blood, The defunct will ascend To rend the mortal flesh Of the brothers of the good word, And make victims of their guts. Those who are left, Of god bereft Run amongst heads Suspended by threads.

Crosses up-ended And frenzied blooshed For those who sought favour From their saviour. Phobophile In the kitchen With a screaming triple amputee Its completion depends solely On my needs Said amputee's stumps Are my way of saying Terror of morality I draw from the slowly dying damned Monsters live behind my eyes; I let them out and people die.

And all the grave worms That come for their piece of meat? I give them dead things. The wretched living are mine alone Fright mounts with the body count To which anthropomancy predicts a decline In all of God's creation, Can there be a lifestyle that's better than this?

I mark Los Vidrios - Kryptästhesie - Any Water Knows territory With their blood and excritement And adipocere I can find my way in the dark; My fulfilment is habitually necromanic And anal abusive. Seen through the eyes of a mortician They've "caught" me, as they call it; My teeth and my semen have betrayed me.

Tests to gauge my rationale, The likes of which these feeble minds have Never seen. Rorschach blotters, My responses to which inspire fear From my lizard Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So VileThe amoral alien speaks; "These aren't butterflies, I see a face I'd like to burn. Lichmistress Our lady of seven sorrows, Mother of mourning, precious lich A white horse found your grave, Then it was beheaded.

The funeral goat's semen Annoints your resting place. Far below, the state you're in replenishes My well of loss As things from beyond watch as you rot Beneath me. Wretchedly, I pine as I begin at once to claw The earth To free you from the worms, to free you From damnation.

The stake in your bosom pains me too Wistfully, I gaze into those empty holes Which once were eyes That beheld so much blood, that beheld so Much evil Cyanotic lips caress the cold grey face of One interred Whose flesh is much Crown Of Horns - Cryptopsy - None So Vile frail, whose flesh Begins to quiver. Mistress of my flesh, Your servant longs for your kiss, To hold you once again, All pretty with blood Now shall all of heaven weep.

Orgiastic Disembowelment You have sinned. You will die You will be absorbed. No more god, Safe at last Embrace the abyss. The dark is warm, Comforting Welcome to the fold. Close your soul, Turn your heart, Learn Let us prey On the weak. Feed the dark With their flesh; Orgiastic disembowelment. Wretched birth, Cursed by life, Now the way is shown. Happily Suffering Skyclad flagellants. Bask in the Impure Caresses of the scourge.

There is no Sacrifice too great. Let us prey We've learned your name, we know your Name. Resisilobus, Your only designs on the living Are to oppress and possess; To make them cry, to make them die. The gore runs as black As their unclean hearts; Goat cult rite.


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