Luyện nghe bài hát Death Magick For Adepts

Come artists bitter things seek meaning
if they're madness to behold
Once forbears to horizons where the stayed dreaming
Now nightmares souls that fear the living's toll

Gova Bosch and three times
Moon wise stain thy
For alone are at loss to trace
The face of today's wraith

One half adrift in the vast abyss of despair and
The other a of rich red lips
Whetted by the of belief and greed

All damned in this inferno where averts his eyes
From the black mass mutual gang
Of ceasing hands an forced

Trespass these seven gates to a world blood let to
Where seraphim of their cold and coming master's race
In the sewers of stillborn to a trough anon
Chimiracles will hatch like plots to dredge faeces to pearl their

penteholocaust
Five past yet still man grasps
At final straws to save his

His lord is a leper we shall not he betrayed us with white lies
His acrid pall as of the tomb us how we rot inside
Gutted like fool's gutted on cruel appetites

Holding court to chaos holding to far arms
A downfall to all resounds
As orgies peak in self psalms

And screams her sufferings under bowed and cankered wings
A bleak scorched necrotica burning
Like the robes torn from her

She us lay her pain to rest
Lest we are left with
for her stripped and ravished flesh

And if her fate is not of apocalypse
Then the comets graxe nightskies
We'll surely cleanse of and rights
you and I and all else dies

It's rotting down this carcass
Interdependent as to the grave
Allah's true name is naught Christ save
Locked in a waltz of evermore steps
of regret death magick for adepts

Be to fulfill prophecies
The glorious fall of a sin
Glutted like fool's paradise, glutted on appetites

We've hearts a thorn arbour
Left tear reason upon the shore
And bereft of compass star or more set out for world's end
Few at the prow most slave below painting coal a perfect

But for all it's worth the engines dead in the brine again
Come fever sodomy on the bounty prey to phallus seas
That hiss and to douse disease a storm roars on the way
Blacker than the ace of dealt out by death in darkwood glades
Our ship of fools all handmade sinks dashed by seismic waves