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morrow - a city of gristle lyrics

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pray for reprieve! implore!
strung to the pathetic fools caught in their devious snare
trussed up by my hands, writhe!
writhe against lashes and tormented riling words

they mock me, with shame!
sordid hands paw at my face, my forgiving grin
and smear my skin
they violate life with innards of fauna and scrawl

the shame of their creed, a blooded cause
they wear on their hides, inglorious
the red endeavour all brutality

with slavish tread, aching a path
we are bound for their lair, uncertainty
bound for abandon

metropolis! in awе!
the light stain of day brims with raucous and hideous life
a city of gristlе, ghouls!
skitter and grope in gargantuan scapes

of a people
alive in its lungs, providing it with insufficient breath
stare at our sorry state, delirium!
clung to the girders and rigging of a funeral past
the light incendiary
a world enamoured in gold
shards in calcified eyes
sl!ck tar of hysteria
brims and breaks

carcass vistas!
in the sweltering fury
blood boiling heat
burning luminous vents!
and the bodies blister
our fingers fray to ribbons

into the mines! it blinds!
the sun song whimpers, yet the dark will not solve
beneath the tarnished facade, a truth!
the twisted viscera of fallen colossus

we cut at their leathery skin, a sin!
and gnaw on the metal marrow within
oh how we wither and wheeze, we choke!
and cough up the blood speckled phlegm; indignant

motor of blood and of bone, we moan!
the brawn fuel mortar of a villainous kin
seeking out fools such as i; a child
cartilage gears mimic antediluvian;
effigies of the unknown, totems
bound with sinew into convolutions
ruddy red from the quarry, we bleed!
and the cuts weep, eyes run with the bite of the whip

here in the dark
faces are marked
insignia of tribes blur with filth

stolen away
by these mortal thieves
no more demon than i!

to whet the stones that carve this industrious charnel house
the feudal chiefs bicker and mete out fates for their marionettes
below we ponder and plot such sweet and peculiar threats
idle for now, they wait for their introduction

my lesson is learned, for whats its worth
of haste i know, how little if offers
its scent fleeting and beguiling
irrational, insane!

i was its pupil, a play thing
a willing serf, or talisman
of impatience and sloth
dank consequence, ill gotten fruit
my eloquence
a new lesson

- morrow lyrics

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