Текст песни: Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs + перевод

Face down in the dust of their blasted utopia

Razors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lines

Eyes brimming with chemical repulse

Nostrils crusted with manifold millennia of dried up mortification

Of spiritual fabrication

Inhaling the future, new orifices torn for those sexless angels

Strength of will hammered flat by biological circumstance

Cells forming the biggest cell of all

Body of death, true burden

My opiate naïve autumn putting a gleam to your sycophant summer like so much

make believe

Throw in your hands for the abyssal disco

All the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holes

All’s about to snap, spring has sprung on the christ trap

In fact we’ll do worse than put a match to your faces

We’ll have you writhing, you cunts, do you hear?

All you monotheists born from the dust of deserts

Myth piled upon myth, spiritual plague pit

Seething maggot balls, fuel for future tombs

Twisting mass a’roil with turning worms

Keep your maggots away from my soul

I’m willing to risk an aneurysm if you’ll just shut up and wait in line

Just impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farce

Glance around for the shroud, how’s your fitting?

Dancer with ghost

Spinning so madly around

Dancer with ghosts, spinning so madly around

Down amongst the dead

All our graves walked all over

All our graves walked all over

Перевод песни Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs