Text for song:
Fu inlé; these clouds bode ill
From the earth we ran out;
That eve, that heralded night
For Man came knocking at our doors
Sank teeth within our homes
In those quiet hours,
where the elil ruled
The sky, the ground, our thoughts
We prayed for pity
but received none
We gasped for breath
But no breath came
Forgive us el ahrairah!
Prophet of two faces;
deceitful, delirious
Right hand of embleer frith,
Bore down on us all
Scattering minds like skeleton leaves
Hrair thethuthinnang
Weak willed we were, incoherent
Frith the lagging star,
hung on pitch fork lies
Weak willed we were, incoherent
Slay him down
deific abhorrence
slay him down
Frith lies still in charred soil
we silflay upon his bones
dance in his carrion eyes
tare his flesh with ideas
bore within him like worms
bore within him like worms
Frith the lagging star,
hung on pitch fork lies
Weak willed we were, incoherent
Slay him down
Embellished with
caustic runes
Buried cities,
burrow graves
We stand in
ragged rows
Tharn Eyes sullen with loss
Disembodied he wanders the wastes
Three headed elil
Frith, ahrairah, inlé
Baying for our heed
Cloying at our arms
eyes wet with tears
But we will not cry for you
We will not cry for you
We march in atrophy
His hands still claw and swoon
Sombre we tread
In quiet regress
Amidst the fallen
Friend and fetid foe
Their blood smears as one
And so our cause is whole
Warrens yawn wide
Engulf us all in tow
We will lie here
Beside these vanquished souls
We never ceased feeling
We only opened our eyes
Ended half said prayers
this fallen lord we vilify