Out from nothing something, a dream of fruition.
Intuitive beings enslaved by a human condition.
Cause under God we here judge ourselves, as rights and wrongs are written rhythmically with Hell. Our laws of justice are blind indeed; they suit us well as we intend them to be.
Though some breath inwards, to droning sounds predating Gods and the essence of Suns; behold the power of great intuition.
Some are born of creation, while some are recycled.
Through losing hope, faith is born of anxiety, then condoning gospels; the raping of everything indeed.
Biting our tongues in fear of ourselves; we are the founders to the concepts that we dwell. Knowing our laws are nothing sacred still we preach; we are so absurd, so absurd indeed.
Cause under God we here judge ourselves as rights and wrongs are written rhythmically with Hell. Our laws of justice are blind indeed; they suit us well as we intend them to be for us.
We bite our tongues in fear of ourselves, yet wish to conquer all the concepts that we dwell.
Cause under God we here judge ourselves as rights and wrongs were written rhythmically in Hell.
Here Law’s not justice nor blind to see; it’s just rust for eternity without us.
The metal’s band revelatory new record crosses genres and styles, effortlessly combining seemingly incompatible subgenres. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 26, 2024