Deny frustrations
The past, where the present slowly lives
The drown, we lived awaiting for, passive, to the shadows, a barrage only.

As the serpentine path way straightens, does the wind follow one?
We're howling on, in half-light
The unknown, and the formless, step in, to welcome words
That came into flesh... buried.

Below the nightly ocean, glowing bright needle-eyes, in black vaults above us
Above the secretive dark, hovers not unlike the depths, of directionless pressure.
Here in between we falter, fear to recognize a mark, left by the ancient ones
Were they truely forever, or ever but a dream, they imagined upon... us.

Here in between, we'll have it on us, on submarine leathery wings
Here in between, we'll have it on us, crawling on dislocated limbs.

The so called sensitive minds, transmit what is and what was, to be unnamed no longer
Rebuke scientific error, soteriology for awe, where can you run for cover?

Here in between, we'll have it on us, on submarine leathery wings
Here in between, we'll have it on us, crawling on dislocated limbs.

As above so below, the crossroads to the beyond

We hear a haunting song from, a sunken cathedral, which has no place in nature
Self fulfilling, prophecy, read a book of dead names, or laws in fact an artefact of black art

Here in between, we'll have it on us, on submarine leathery wings
Here in between, we'll have it on us, crawling on dislocated limbs.

You fall before your idols and say you kneel to pray

You fall before your idols and say you knell to pray
Arms spread wide in all idleness we watch you sway
Comforted in winds of petty wickedness you wish to hide
From yourself, from your kind, from even lower forms of life
As from your divided divine

But who art thou, lurking in the dark of the night
Stumbles upon my most secret thoughts

Pray, to your gods to fall, prey
Pray, to your rulers and fall, prey
Pray, to your gods to fall, prey
Prey of your rulers' fallen, prayer

So they spake the authades antitheoi

The Prince of all Satans fell through pride
Through concupiscence fell Archons in the first apocalypse of might
Eve the third wife of Adam victimised for Creator's brutalising seed
Outwitted Adam the foolish man of his raped wife through
Disobedience of the meek

But who art thou, lurking in the dark of the night
Stumbles upon my most secret thoughts

Pray, to your gods to fall, prey
Pray, to your rulers and fall, prey
Pray, to your gods to fall, prey
Prey of your rulers' fallen, prayer

High on the throne of a royal state
Which far outshone the wealth
Of Omuszd and of Ind
Satan exalted sat.

Alone we writhe in the teeth of the One
There's said be none
Not one alike Leviathan

The civilised firmament of the west
Celestial bodies
Of every woman, man, and child

Every spasm of ill fate
Being star-engraved
And life a cogwheel's step

Their watery eyes running empty of the hope
These people see contrasting everything they see

Implaceable steps on the clockworks' run
Running amok down the starry sky

Broken stars
Will he make a covenant with Thee?
Will they have a servant of Him?

Broken stars
Will he make a covenant with Thee?
Are they not born in its teeth?

Pity not the Fallen

Implaceable steps on the clockworks' run
Running amok down the starry sky

Broken stars
Will he make a covenant with Thee?
Gravity's got their souls to claim

Broken stars
Will he make a covenant with Thee?
One being cast down even at scaping sigh of Him

Pity not the Fallen

In hail of broken stars we bury not only their hope abandoned
Leviathan's not Saturn but the State migh as well eat its own children

Have I seen the darkness nest
Hearken at my nightmares rest
Closed my eyes as black, reflects
But the worst is yet to come
For the forgotten one...

Kin interstate, now it is too late
Sharpen edge, of my hate.

Bloody heritage, tainted
Within me without you, kin interstate
I excommunicate, by your very name
For ever exorcise, cut you off, on your way, away!

Kin interstate, now it is too late
Sharpen edge, of my hate...

Sweet aroma of peachy skin and strawberry pulp of ecstasy
Fill the fruitarians in paradise of Eve

She's betrayed by her jealous and self-willed god
Sacla is his name, misaddressed is, he the lord
The creator, sole and mighty craftsman, Satanael
Her pain, her master, for eternity her innocence's disaster

It's dawning to her slowly with terror born to scorch the earth an inferno
It's dawning to her dawning reason of Eve...

Now Bosch's fruitarians seek, and gaze into crystal
Pearls of the shameless, and if restored, in the orchard

She's betrayed by her jealous and self-willed god
Sacla is his name, misaddressed is, he the lord
The creator, sole and mighty craftsman, Satanael
Her pain, her master, for eternity her innocence's disaster

It's dawning to her, slowly with terror born to scorch the earth an inferno
It's dawning to her, dawning reason of Eve...

They are seven... under depths of the ocean
They are seven... in the shining heavens
They are seven...

Who expels the doubt if not the progenitors of science (crafted in half-light)
Or is it their archontic nature
True to the eyes, to what you know that you'll find certain
Thus mislead reason, proposes itself a toast of poison.

They are seven... under depths of the ocean
They are seven... in the shining heavens
They are seven...

They are neither male, nor are they female
These that stretch themselves, out like chains...

Do clear your thoughts: are they devoid of occult forces?
Your ideas are the language of the verity they are (spoken in half-truth)
It is their archontic structure
Thus mislead reason, proposes itself a toast of poison.

They are seven... under depths of the ocean (Zi Dingir Kia Kanpa!)
They are seven... in the shining heavens
They are seven...

Get thee behind me evil!
Apo Pantos Kakodaimonos!!
Zi Dingir Anna Kanpa!

Spirit, of sky, remember!
Spirit, of earth, remember!
They are, seven... the enemies!
They are, seven liers-in-wait!

Instrumental

Many ways of world-making they have conceived
I know there is a word... and a name for everyone
I used to know yours but no longer
Is reality held in check as I have heard
By its hard actuality... we relate the truths and lies to
I used to know yours but no longer.

No more are you...
In the eyes of truth, than truth is in your eyes...

A lady at Lethe... we will meet... is she Aletheia?

How could I've looked so deep in your eyes
Maybe I looked only at them
Now I wonder why and how
I used to know yours but no longer
You didn't look away, not even today
Why is it so easy for you, was not the fault all mine
I used to know yours but no longer.

No more are you...
Iin the eyes of truth, than truth is in your eyes...

Once we'll drink of Lethe, like we drank to us
And sweet oblivion is ours, with a warm loving embrace
I used to know yours, but no longer.
Till the day we die, will you keep what I thought you gave
Like all I know you had, but truth in your future ways

A lady at Lethe... we will meet
Is she Aletheia... (lain down to sleep)?

What forms has life forseen fit to decline
On the long and winding path of evolution
Look at an ammonite discovered.
It doesn't weave nor does it reap
Who drove you to mammal-trampled earth
Washed ashore hid in lava-rock.

In homo sapiens species what is, this much indispensable?
Atavistic decline, seeps the elder race.

What forms has life forseen fit to undress
It's flesh, and enter the undergrowth of thoughts... expressionless
Experiment pre-seed the fertile, one's hope
Renewal and purgation for the death-in-life... to plant or root.

In homo sapiens species what is, this much indispensible?
Atavistic decline, seeps the elder race...

Past life cast aside
Sidecast for life passed.

Lazarus, wake up from your mortal sleep
And walk once more by his side
Magi adorn resurrect, but now forlorn.

They only think they know his kind, they think he's one of a kind
But had he brought by him the doom, had he brought another flood
This bright morning star is a son of god, messiah of an age.

In the dark, of your own graves mortal keep
What did you think that he comes?
For his loved ones? Or the smell, they protested.

They only think they know his kind, they think he's one of a kind
But had he brought by him the doom, had he brought another flood
This bright morning star is a son of god, messiah of an age.

De Profundis
Stella Matutina
Lux Luciferi
Qui tollis... qui tollis
Peccata Mundi