[Excerpt from ‘Dinosauria, We’ by Charles Bukowski recited by S. Vrath]
Serpents of the Gods call upon your hypocrites Pray to the fates and the master of the odds Cry out in ruinous shouts; your end is near!
From your defecated thrones we have feasted on your bones To mark your pitiful end Oh lords of mockery, clamour and shout!
Master of the Odds, Your long unquestioned authority fades to obscurity Your servants led to the flame, your name is ground to the dust!
We hold the spear of destiny Cursed with the thirst of a never-ending deicidal lust We hunger for your sacrificial blood!
Your ruinous corpses draped in red You speak your names to the keeper of the dead O spirits of murder, vengeance, agony Howl out in glorious victory... and scream these words aloud!
The laws of Gods and men are nothing... We are the lions of the east! The sons of blasphemy around us... Your hated relics at our feet
[Solo: Iron] [Solo: von Moller]
Heed us, kings and high pretenders This song written in your name Forgotten are your teachings Ashen are your houses Unrivalled is your shame
Die! Serpents of the Gods Die! Master of the odds Die! Your time is over – your end is nearTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
