Man-Beast by Legion (Producer) Lyrics
As swarms of insects, set to dwell the earth. Murderous
Cattle to feast upon their weak. Determined survivors
Yet flocks of lethal beasts. Hunt or be hunted or turn
The other cheek
Give voice to the beast within – enter that howling hole!
Withering tissue and bone, as holy as blocks of stone
Slaves to a will, immortal; to the divinely immoral
A dark pattern, immemorial. Man-Beast: the hangman of
Life. War order revocation. Earth cleansing – un-creation!
Hell dwellers' re-creation. Man-Beast: the hangman of life
But specks of sand in the wind, like palms on a futile
Board played with laconic contempt. Your fate is in the
Hands of the gods!
Those ancient movements celebrating ugly death: a dance
Of primal worship. Men to piles of shreds. The sound of
Human instinct let loose from its chains: a symphony of
Madness and exploding heads
React not with resistance but with faith and bliss!
Lay down and perish in the flames of cold!
The end might well be gruesome, but an end it is
Now witness one last miracle – you, faceless fools!
Thought and voice to blood and scattered limbs, to vast
Climes of carrion. Oozing forth from dead unseeing eyes;
The one and Holy Ghost
A morbid carnation decorates the soil: corpses in blood
Pools, splattered brains and ashes. The ruins lie coated in
A film of human grease. Echoes of silence and wounds
To brightly gush
Cattle to feast upon their weak. Determined survivors
Yet flocks of lethal beasts. Hunt or be hunted or turn
The other cheek
Give voice to the beast within – enter that howling hole!
Withering tissue and bone, as holy as blocks of stone
Slaves to a will, immortal; to the divinely immoral
A dark pattern, immemorial. Man-Beast: the hangman of
Life. War order revocation. Earth cleansing – un-creation!
Hell dwellers' re-creation. Man-Beast: the hangman of life
But specks of sand in the wind, like palms on a futile
Board played with laconic contempt. Your fate is in the
Hands of the gods!
Those ancient movements celebrating ugly death: a dance
Of primal worship. Men to piles of shreds. The sound of
Human instinct let loose from its chains: a symphony of
Madness and exploding heads
React not with resistance but with faith and bliss!
Lay down and perish in the flames of cold!
The end might well be gruesome, but an end it is
Now witness one last miracle – you, faceless fools!
Thought and voice to blood and scattered limbs, to vast
Climes of carrion. Oozing forth from dead unseeing eyes;
The one and Holy Ghost
A morbid carnation decorates the soil: corpses in blood
Pools, splattered brains and ashes. The ruins lie coated in
A film of human grease. Echoes of silence and wounds
To brightly gush