Misanthropic Art - Black Threads Of Scorn | Текст песни

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• Misanthropic Art
• Black Threads Of Scorn

Black clouds over a burnt churchyard -
Leaden vault of indifferent existence.
A bit of irrational in each corpse,
Scab of alienation on each body.
A pile of useless stones is seen
Like a projection of madness on age-old stones.
Deadly life of a deadly scorn,
Black birds over a plowed field.

To gorge! A wriggling body.
To peck! A wormy brain.
It is terrifying... To enter into the irrational.
It is terrifying to touch down...
None of you could murder a man.
None of you murdered himself.

Black crows with lambs' eyes
Crap in the field with dunging wormy furrows.
That cemetery is burnt away irreparably,
Gravestones charred, stones taken away.
Only the cawing is ever louder, ever stronger.
Only the crows are seeking for rotten flesh.
Poisoned air over the necropolis
Seems to be unbearable... seems to be deadly.

Seems to be mortal... Seems to be a paranoia...
Seems to be a puke... It seems...

To gorge! A wriggling body.
To peck! A wormy brain.
It is terrifying... To enter into the irrational.
It is terrifying to touch down...
None of you could murder a man.
None of you murdered himself.

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