Craft
Void
1. Intro (John's Nightmare)
[Instrumental]
2. Serpent Soul
An abyss with a serpent soul; I am weary, drained, a black hole.
Enraged in infinite dimensions.
Through billions of years of evolution, from the hands of a tainted lord, we leapt from void to animal to god with extravagant futility.
An abyss with a serpent soul: weary, drained, a black hole.
I am enraged in infinite dimensions.
3. Come Resonance Of Doom
Tentacles extend from an unconscious hub within his inner hell.
It screams and haunts. It beats its drums.
Come resonance of doom !
It beats its kettledrums.
Creates confusion in the wake of its waves.
Creating horror in the wake of its waves.
Come resonance of doom !
4. The Ground Surrenders
Awakened in a world of triviality.
Nothing's what it could never be.
Our minds tend to wander and lose themselves in agony.
Born in the last place were we'd ever hoped to be.
Lost in hell we are dreaming of places out of reach; of worlds unharmed by humankind's reality.
Is there no way for our souls to be free ?
Like a sign of pressing urgency, the ground below our feet surrenders.
The air slowly suffocates our lungs.
The sky is caving in.
Fight, die for the chance to be free of the warden of the world's decree.
Moderate godlessness ? Not likely.
5. Succumb To Sin
On the issue of whether to live by their two-faced norms: if you are proud, if you are strong, there must be just as strong contention. Succumb to sin. Your concern is yours alone. Work hard to earn your Mark of Cain, then wear it like a badge of honour. God's got nothing on you anyway. Your idols are amorality, untamed mind and chasmic reason. Transgressions get things done, and you are infinitely greater for it. Morality is significant like sound in vacuum. Be proud to wear your Mark of Cain. Wear it like a badge of honour. God's got nothing on you anyway.
6. Leaving The Corporal Shade
Amidst the desert of humanity sits a man on the floor of a sickly lit room. Beneath his feet are pools of blood leaving the corporal shade. His mind is a neutron star. In his mind the walls are birthing thorns. Leaving the corporal shade. To pierce and break his troubled corpse. There is laughing in the distance. This is life? Amidst the desert of humanity, in a pool of blood, leaving the corporal shade, dies a man with a crystal mind.
7. I Want To Commit Murder
I have only one last wish before my time comes to an end. Something I have craved for far too long: to ease my hunger. I want to commit murder! Knowing you exist makes me sick. I want to tie you down. I want to carve you. I want to see the image of death through your teary, blank eyes. I want to commit murder! My mind screams to me like a black metal record in dissonant accord. My mind sings to me murder songs, into passionate frenzy. I want to dig your grave. I want to collect your shadow. I want to terminate your body. I want to commit murder!
8. Bring On The Clouds
I hate to admit it: I sometimes feel affinity, but it makes me feel irradiated like my insides are boiling. It turns inside out. You sleep, you eat, in a pompous cycle of whatever. You fucking drones! It's all just a big hive. This is all your own fault. I gave you enough chances and you didn't seize a single one. Omnicide by 235! We're all going to die, so let's just keep the ball rolling. I present my gift to you. Bring on the clouds!
9. Void
In the gleaming nightfall we can watch the light retreat. Its rays slither eastward, like snakes along the grass, as it leaves us to ourselves. Woods of tall trees - old, deformed and barren - obscuring the sun - red and tired - from working its way up from life giver to massive hydrogen bomb. We can't see the sun, but we can see the god rays surrounding the trees and brief dim flickers of light shining through them. These are rays from a god that is long dead. It's our final night in this place. There is no tomorrow. This evening we drink to the day the world ended.
Dirge Rep ‒ Drums (session)
John Doe ‒ Guitars (lead)
Joakim Karlsson ‒ Guitars, Bass
Mikael Nox ‒ Vocals
Phil A. Cirone ‒ Bass
Lyrics in plain text format
