Proboscis Master Versus The Powdered Seraphs Pawn on the Universal Chessboard – A Forest Of Stars – letras

Face down in the dust of their blasted utopiarazors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lineseyes brimming with chemical repulsenostrils crusted with manifold millenniaof dried up mortificationof spiritual fabricationinhaling the future, new orifices tornfor those sexless angelsStrength of Will hammered flat by biological circumstancecells forming the biggest cell of allbody of death, true burdenMy opiate naïve autumn putting a gleamto your sycophant summer likeso much make believeThrow in your hands for the abyssal discoAll the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holesAll’s about to snap spring has sprung on the christ trapIn fact, we’ll do worse than put a match to your facesWe’ll have your writhing, you cunts. Do you hear?All you monotheists born from the dust of desertsMyth piled upon myth spiritual plague pitSeething maggot balls fuel for future tombsTwisting mass a’roil with turning wormsKeep your maggots away from my soulI’m willing to risk an aneurysmif you’ll just shut up and wait in lineJust impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farceGlance around for the shroudHow’s your fitting? Dancer with ghostsSpinning so madly aroundDancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly aroundDown amongst the deadAll our graves walked all over