Ergot by Benighted Illusion Lyrics
A divine liquid, I sing for all the faces of calamity, and I yell out for mercilessness as an overwhelming facetiousness absorbs me
My essence was stolen from me, hidden inside streaks of yellow bile and an oath for electric blood, to reignite the old flame of the somnambulist who died in these arms
They ingested ergot just to survive, clinging desperately to the last thread of еnlightenment
You're thе same as I am, traversing across this caliginous tomb
A profound fear of abandonment in the maladaptive glossolalia permeating within these psychography stained walls which are mine, you'll extract only the most luxurious materials of that which was left by the wise, and the only purpose of my begetting was just to obscure the immaterial which floats below my fabled regression into the land
I have borne witness to the immeasurable light and sound
I have watched as time and space collapsed in on itself, merely saved by the comfort of the bearer of light, and with their unfathomable face, I am reborn
An uncorrupted dark unfurling related to its messianic climax, catapulted only by the most luxurious demands
The unassuming nomad preaching only the dismal word of their shackling in freedom, feeding off the torment of all those who bore witness to their face
A gradual recovery of the necessary mutilations which appeased their past misgivings, the good song they thought they sang was only one of jealousy
In opposition to their instincts, they fell further down the barathrum, offering their possessions to buy salvation from their rule
To hypnotise those once extinct, a dire soul which always looms, the beast in death of demons, they put salt inside their wounds
An obfuscation which sees no change but serves only to obsess, those now lost hope it'll bring back life, but it only brings more pain
Overwhelmed by hatred for the faceless ones who brought me here, they stick their hooks inside my spine and celebrate my agony
Hundreds of rats under my skin, chew aimlessly into my humours, I am their saviour and with me they'll crawl inside the sarcophagus
Mesmerised
By my reflection
It repulses me
But this only draws me nearer
I am king
So where is my throne?
I know only pain
So where is my reward?
My profound loneliness
Protects me from evil
I reached a plateau
In my self-loathing
These thoughtless nights
Only make me shiver
The locust laughs
And it only makes me quiver
Another gasp
Interrupts my breathing
I breed calamity
It reminds me of needing
I'm lost observing
These contorting faces
Their tragedies here
Are to fulfil my wishes
Those deafening screams
Are my absolution
Staring down the cliff
Bowing to the worm's head
A clandestine cult
Speaks of grand machinations
Even these atrocities
I can't call my own
The putrescent sun penetrates those once blackened eyes of the harvester, a magnetism from the sky, gives way unto further impiety
No justice for these misdeeds, but only an exacerbation of humiliation, a congregation of the miscreants, a sorrowful charade
A descendant of the nuclear winter watches over those forlorn ruins, still reaping these unending consequences in a stifled form of grief
I anticipate my journey into the abyss, and the emptiness it brings, when the fucking sun has risen, that's when I'll take my leave
The gates are open
And I'm in my grave
Even in death
I cannot escape
The fruits of my labour
I see myself in the vines
My carnivorous decline
In the not-too-distant past
The dystopian treatise
Drives me towards the non-future
I'm enamoured by its flame
The ruins of its shadow burn
The decadence of power
And the confines of the carnal
Ending their inquisitions
They're blown to smithereens
I sit here trapped in my demise, it is cold in here
My soul too deformed to recognise, I broke from the continuum
I stand for thee to magnetise
To satisfy me they'll materialise
I am calmed and freed by its magnitude, this is my opium
To stare within the macrocosm, I drown beneath the jewels
The mystery of my survival, I am a snake within the shadows
My saviour lies in control, the outside world can't hurt me here
With their dismal sanguine dreams
They perpetuate my melancholy
The torment in these histrionics
A torture chamber in my body
A maladapted greed pulls me through this wicked paradox
These instantaneous moments serve only as the toil for our gathering
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
Blinded by the one and only night on which I felt like a whole
I was only placed as a reminder of their veiled impotence
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
To divulge the poison's greatness, would only be a sign of great incompetence
The shallow breathing in these waters drowns out the noise of kindred spirits
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
I am the wound
Tainted by my own proclivity to dream, washed ashore I dwell on my embarrassment
Nausea, the ink has forever left its stain, as I enter this strange and noxious house
To leave a hole I drown in my own vomit, a paradise in my benign anaesthesia
A spasm puts an end to this masquerade, a rebirth brings me another reinforcement
Green
Sinking
Into the blue
The offering
I traverse
Bloodless mars
Untouched on the steppe, I am inhaling soot, as a ghost of the dismal winter
To gnash at the sight of glee and scour, pray for the miracle back in time
I'm on the lam, where I could have been born
Attempt to forget, and try to avoid
My blood on the ice, they sever the plains
I'll restart the world, as the destroyer of time
And with their twisted minds, they become possessed by their celestial tormentors, robust exterminators and purveyors of deafening fear
These distorting eyes lead me to the inferno riddled with ergot
And not even the humidity can drag me across the macadam
The atmosphere in the thespian city engulfed by fire
A parallax which begets only more and more out of all past atrocities
A disastrous drought pulls me through the nocturnal meridian
I'm dancing to and from during these never-ending nights
And for a time, the nuclear winter was only a figment of my nightmares
Since then, it has become so cold, only my ergotism keeps me warm
Disturbed by the spiritual aggressor perpetuating war, greed and disease, whilst sailing the seas of radiation and riding on their triumph over life
An incipit materialisation of the underground eye of fatalism, imprinting a simulacrum over these wretched, decaying skies, which are only known by the unknown
My essence was stolen from me, hidden inside streaks of yellow bile and an oath for electric blood, to reignite the old flame of the somnambulist who died in these arms
They ingested ergot just to survive, clinging desperately to the last thread of еnlightenment
You're thе same as I am, traversing across this caliginous tomb
A profound fear of abandonment in the maladaptive glossolalia permeating within these psychography stained walls which are mine, you'll extract only the most luxurious materials of that which was left by the wise, and the only purpose of my begetting was just to obscure the immaterial which floats below my fabled regression into the land
I have borne witness to the immeasurable light and sound
I have watched as time and space collapsed in on itself, merely saved by the comfort of the bearer of light, and with their unfathomable face, I am reborn
An uncorrupted dark unfurling related to its messianic climax, catapulted only by the most luxurious demands
The unassuming nomad preaching only the dismal word of their shackling in freedom, feeding off the torment of all those who bore witness to their face
A gradual recovery of the necessary mutilations which appeased their past misgivings, the good song they thought they sang was only one of jealousy
In opposition to their instincts, they fell further down the barathrum, offering their possessions to buy salvation from their rule
To hypnotise those once extinct, a dire soul which always looms, the beast in death of demons, they put salt inside their wounds
An obfuscation which sees no change but serves only to obsess, those now lost hope it'll bring back life, but it only brings more pain
Overwhelmed by hatred for the faceless ones who brought me here, they stick their hooks inside my spine and celebrate my agony
Hundreds of rats under my skin, chew aimlessly into my humours, I am their saviour and with me they'll crawl inside the sarcophagus
Mesmerised
By my reflection
It repulses me
But this only draws me nearer
I am king
So where is my throne?
I know only pain
So where is my reward?
My profound loneliness
Protects me from evil
I reached a plateau
In my self-loathing
These thoughtless nights
Only make me shiver
The locust laughs
And it only makes me quiver
Another gasp
Interrupts my breathing
I breed calamity
It reminds me of needing
I'm lost observing
These contorting faces
Their tragedies here
Are to fulfil my wishes
Those deafening screams
Are my absolution
Staring down the cliff
Bowing to the worm's head
A clandestine cult
Speaks of grand machinations
Even these atrocities
I can't call my own
The putrescent sun penetrates those once blackened eyes of the harvester, a magnetism from the sky, gives way unto further impiety
No justice for these misdeeds, but only an exacerbation of humiliation, a congregation of the miscreants, a sorrowful charade
A descendant of the nuclear winter watches over those forlorn ruins, still reaping these unending consequences in a stifled form of grief
I anticipate my journey into the abyss, and the emptiness it brings, when the fucking sun has risen, that's when I'll take my leave
The gates are open
And I'm in my grave
Even in death
I cannot escape
The fruits of my labour
I see myself in the vines
My carnivorous decline
In the not-too-distant past
The dystopian treatise
Drives me towards the non-future
I'm enamoured by its flame
The ruins of its shadow burn
The decadence of power
And the confines of the carnal
Ending their inquisitions
They're blown to smithereens
I sit here trapped in my demise, it is cold in here
My soul too deformed to recognise, I broke from the continuum
I stand for thee to magnetise
To satisfy me they'll materialise
I am calmed and freed by its magnitude, this is my opium
To stare within the macrocosm, I drown beneath the jewels
The mystery of my survival, I am a snake within the shadows
My saviour lies in control, the outside world can't hurt me here
With their dismal sanguine dreams
They perpetuate my melancholy
The torment in these histrionics
A torture chamber in my body
A maladapted greed pulls me through this wicked paradox
These instantaneous moments serve only as the toil for our gathering
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
Blinded by the one and only night on which I felt like a whole
I was only placed as a reminder of their veiled impotence
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
To divulge the poison's greatness, would only be a sign of great incompetence
The shallow breathing in these waters drowns out the noise of kindred spirits
I am the wound, a never-ending vacuum
I am the wound, a glaring permanence
I am the wound, the syndrome of our grieving
I am the wound, I mark their insipid petulance
I am the wound
Tainted by my own proclivity to dream, washed ashore I dwell on my embarrassment
Nausea, the ink has forever left its stain, as I enter this strange and noxious house
To leave a hole I drown in my own vomit, a paradise in my benign anaesthesia
A spasm puts an end to this masquerade, a rebirth brings me another reinforcement
Green
Sinking
Into the blue
The offering
I traverse
Bloodless mars
Untouched on the steppe, I am inhaling soot, as a ghost of the dismal winter
To gnash at the sight of glee and scour, pray for the miracle back in time
I'm on the lam, where I could have been born
Attempt to forget, and try to avoid
My blood on the ice, they sever the plains
I'll restart the world, as the destroyer of time
And with their twisted minds, they become possessed by their celestial tormentors, robust exterminators and purveyors of deafening fear
These distorting eyes lead me to the inferno riddled with ergot
And not even the humidity can drag me across the macadam
The atmosphere in the thespian city engulfed by fire
A parallax which begets only more and more out of all past atrocities
A disastrous drought pulls me through the nocturnal meridian
I'm dancing to and from during these never-ending nights
And for a time, the nuclear winter was only a figment of my nightmares
Since then, it has become so cold, only my ergotism keeps me warm
Disturbed by the spiritual aggressor perpetuating war, greed and disease, whilst sailing the seas of radiation and riding on their triumph over life
An incipit materialisation of the underground eye of fatalism, imprinting a simulacrum over these wretched, decaying skies, which are only known by the unknown