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Lyrify.me

A Thief...a Reaver...a Slayer by Cropsy Lyrics

Genre: rock | Year: 2012

I am the thorn in the foot, I am the blur in the sight;
I am the worm at the root, I am the thief in the night
I am the rat in the wall, the leper that leers at the gate;
I am the ghost in the hall, herald of horror and hate

I have plumbed the northern ice for a spell like Frozen lead;
In lost grey fields of rice, I have learned from Mongol dead

There was never a king or priest to cheer me by word or look
There was never a man or beast in the blood-black ways I took
There were crimson gulfs unplumbed, there were black wings over a sea
There were pits where mad things drummed, and foaming blasphemy

I have plumbed the northern ice for a spell like Frozen lead;
In lost grey fields of rice, I have learned from Mongol dead
Where a bleak black mountainstands I have looted grisly caves;
I have digged in the desert sands to plunder terrible graves

I warp and wither with drouth, I work in the swamp's foul yeast;
I bring the black plague from the south and the leprosy in from the east
I rend from the hemlock boughs wine steeped in the petals of dooms;
Where the fat black serpents drowse I gather the Upas blooms
Never the sun goes forth, never the moon glows red
But out of the south or the north, I come with the slavering dead

There was never a king or priest to cheer me by word or look
There was never a man or beast in the blood-black ways I took
There were crimson gulfs unplumbed, there were black wings over a sea
There were pits where mad things drummed, and foaming blasphemy

Never the sun goes forth, never the moon glows red
But out of the south or the north, I come with the slavering dead
I come with hideous spells, black chants and ghastly tunes;
I have looted the hideen hells amd plundered the lost black moons

There were vast ungodly tombs where slimy monsters dreamed;
There were clouds like blood-drenched plumes where unborn demons screamed
There were ages dead to Time, and lands lost out of Space;
There were adders in the slime, and a dim unholy Face

I have plumbed the northern ice for a spell like Frozen lead;
But out of the south or the north, I come with the slavering dead

There was never a king or priest to cheer me by word or look
There was never a man or beast in the blood-black ways I took
There were crimson gulfs unplumbed, there were black wings over a sea
There were pits where mad things drummed, and foaming blasphemy
I come with hideous spells, black chants and ghastly tunes;
I have looted the hideen hells amd plundered the lost black moons
Where a bleak black mountainstands I have looted grisly caves;
I have digged in the desert sands to plunder terrible graves

Oh, the heart in my breast turned stone, and the brain froze in my skull--
But I won through, I alone, and poured my chalice full
Of horrors and dooms and spells, black buds and bitter roots--
And I poured my chalice full

From the hells beneath the hells, I bring you my deathly fruits