Seasons of Mist Records - (CD Digi) 2009

01. Weapons of Conquest
02. I am not Deceived
03. Blood for Blood
04. The Barricades are breaking
05. A Stand Defiant
06. A Path to Conflict
07. A Thousand Plagues
08. Human all too Human
09. A Sermon to the Dead

will follow soon

K.K. Warslut - Vocals, guitars
Shrapnel - Guitars
Mersus - Battery
M.Razor - Bass

The weapons of conquest

Forged in the same fire ,Plagued by the same affliction
Born of the same blood, Torn from the same womb
Oppressed by the same foe, Encircled by the fiends
Unleash the Egress from Eden

Toe to toe, face to face
With the captors
Inch by inch take the ground
Drive them backwards

No distant bond will stay my hand , Drive the brethren from the land
Seeded from the same source, Now sewn in isolation
Thrust before the ice tides, Scattered on the wind

The barren and the fertile, The fallow and the fair, Survival and extinction
Driven by infernal fire, The continents collide
Unleashed, unleashed, The weapons of conquest
To the herd and the land, No more bonded
Driven by avarice, Now absconded
The strands of fate entwine the worlds
As blood drenched standards are unfurled

Viral strain to decimate, In desperation retaliate
Stone and wood meet blade of steel, Tectonic fate the kings annealed
Steel and plague, fire and lead, Destiny manifest by the weapon of conquest
Which capricious fate delivers the world? Can the fires that stir the molten core
Grant dominion of the earth?

Based on Jared Diamonds description of Pizzaros defeat of Atahuallpa in his brillant book Guns, Germs and Steel.

I am not Decieved

It's true what they say - the world's a mess and deserves no quarter, and it's true you're out of my depth, Your drowning in shallow water. I'm am not deluded, I am not deceived - I am not taken with your mystery! Let revelation shock the world, unfurl the raging sea - let the tempest rise tonight and set the beast within free.

Another crisis, another fear - another prophecy to declare: one more tirade, another lie – another reason to despise. I'm not deluded, I am not deceived - I am not taken with your mystery!

With eyes of the cobra that spit out death, like a shark coming from the black depths, and we'll die as it all once began - like a burning fire brand. So tear at the sky with razor sharp talons! Lacerate, fly high – burn!

Blood for Blood

I bring you abject decadence;
I glorify the violence of cowards and fools.
I sell your lives like cattle and whore your daughters to the world;
I am Alpha and Omega. And I can pedal desires like drugs - get your crack whores high like dogs. I can rant and rave any liberalist shit - do my ways appease you, does my cruelty please you? You seek arrogance like a dog seeks his master's hand.
Blood for Blood

So where is it we find ourselves? Once around and back again, is this how it was meant - that we should end like this? I think not.

Have the Gods not failed enough, that we must conjure more? Why confuse the issue with endless metaphor - why say anything at all?

But this is not our way - not you nor I.
We shall have our day, we shall defy!
We shall not cower beneath the tyrant's heel, before the master's whip we shall not yield. We will never die.
We shall not break, we shall not kneel - we will always fight. You will always hear... Hear our war cry:

Blood for Blood!

The Barricades are Breaking

The Ionian fire - it flickers and falls in the cold wind. In the streets, the cities ablaze - the final descent, the spirals turning; the barricades are breaking. At breakneck speed, a celestial pestilence descends upon the world and delivers a sacred gift of everlasting death.

Annihilate, envenom, impregnate! Decimate - reduce to ashes. A war of attrition - a sullen contrition, the stench of redemption - we have no need of your salvation.

Get on board the ship, it's sinking - the barricades are breaking! Raise the standard from the broken city wall - another harbinger of doom, a herald of annihilation. Can't you hear the wolves at the door? The barricades are breaking.

A Stand Defiant

Spare me false modesty and feigned indignation - your pride, like your vanity betrays your consternation. And your rhetoric of victory - your visionary deceit; stolen words and deeds defiled with conceit! For who is it that you sing and so proudly proclaim? For your own posterity, or a braver youth? Do not pity their squalid fucking mess, a follower of Dreams is a follower no less.

Some believe that without Hope man is surely lost. I, on the other hand, will gladly cut the rope. On to all those disillusioned souls, drunk with desire - narcissistic fools! Courage of our convictions we do not lack - lack of desperation holds us back. Each one tied to his own ideal, so spare me your piety; I`ll see you all in Hell!

It is not faith in eternal life that guides me now, but the fact that I know I've not long to live. None have long for this world
- so seize every night, every waking hour; breathe every moment, this is our Last Will and Testament. A stand of defiance!
I will not go down with the white flag. Scarred, but not beaten. We are not Defeated! A stand Defiant - a will to triumph!
Scarred, but not beaten – A will to triumph, a stand Defiant.

To Good Friends, a good cause, a good battle and a good Death-Gregory David Roberts.

The Path to Conflict

No gleaming temple forever stands - your Idols lay beneath, beneath the shifting sands. No endless darkness, no blinding light - no treasured ideal, not one vice.

No sacred law, no holy command - no final verdict to which we are damned. No Armageddon, no final rest and no paradise beyond our death. For no word of the wise, no law benign will ever change the wolf and the lion.

No holy texts, monuments proud - no holy cause the pious vowed. No pretence to endless peace, no faith in God and no vain belief. For no dream of the wise, no law benign will ever change the wolf and the lion.

All revolution - all salvation, never as they predict! All solutions and all revelations lead a path to conflict.

Not one penance, not one resolute - not one confession, no matter how true. No blood that is spilt or life cut short, in the name of the father, the mother, the cause. Utopia is dead!

So what remains as I walk through the ashes, a trail of our blood, our blood and our scars? Well, our questions betray us - our Hopes and our Fears, relinquish both and then you may hear. No dream of the wise, no law benign will ever change the wolf and the lion.

These lyrics are by necessity a much condensed and brutalised form of a concept illustrated far more comprehensively in John Grays books Black Mass, in particular "Black Mass"

A Thousand Plagues

When every fool is given a voice and every fool is given the right - through the deafening roar of the maddening crowd you just might hear the drums resounding.

A momentary lapse of Treason on the millennial stage, a linear history manifest; a mass delusion by bequest. Now, in the age of reason a million righteous fools invoke a million Gods, as in the age of stone - Christians and Zionist Jews, Crescent Moon peasants, Marxist tyrants and childless hypocrites. Tell me where the truth lies, and I'll tell you which lies are truth. Another fucking cliché to misconstrue.

Men of usury, count your coin - you'd do better to count your days. Women of perjury, you'll rue the night you gave yourself away. Narcotic child; come, you'll see - I fear not for your soul has fled from thee.

So, beware the lure of religion and beware the voice of idealism - cast off the garb of your eloquence, your romantic vision and their pretence. Fuck them all, all ye of little faith - let the Wolves Awaken! Fuck them all, each and every one: a thousand plagues upon them!

"By god you're cunning, they never knew, behind the vision there was you. You are cold, like a shadow, like a knife in the lives of the shallow." Fuck them all, each and every one - a thousand plagues upon them! Fuck them all. Salt the earth and betray them - if there's a god above, then hear my call; a thousand plagues upon them. One last request to wish them Hell.

My epitaph - my final word; a thousand plagues upon them.

Human, all too Human

Is it with sadness you hang your head, or shame? Is it your burden that leaves you blood-stained? No song, no words, will ease your regret. No drug, no love will let you forget. For they are but fleeting, like words in the wind - wild nights, sobered by the dawn. For they are without meaning - like honourless men, broken vows laid bare before the dawn.

Like a wild dog ensnared you'll eat yourself free, to rejoin the shadow of the hunting jaguar. I once believed I held the answer in the palm of my hand, and toyed with it like a child.

On the brink of self annihilation, a lightning strike revelation - how easily that we lie for our shallow love and hollow pride. How vainly we do attempt to stem the tide of consciousness, how easily we are led on the merry dance to our death.

How entranced we are by the Fire, or enslaved to our own desires. Human, all too Human!
Watch the Naked ape grovelling before the stars - scratching at the sky. Your trials and tribulations, they reek of self infatuation -

Sermon to the Dead

I am the wind I am the sea, Every idle belief, every grief
And I am the desert sands, that moves like the Serpent
And I am the rivers flow and the arc of orion's bow
And I am the howling scream, the nightmare
and the waking dream

And I speak the hallowed and accursed word
I am life I am death, the ageless prayer unheard
I am truth, I am lies, the dark and the light
The twisting of winged serpents, and of madness

The Holy one and the betrayer, the birth and murder of love
And I am the paradox, all that you perceive, everything all at once
They call him Abraxas, to see him means blindness, to worship him is death
To know him brings sickness, to fear him is wisdom,
Not to resist brings liberation

And call as you might I shall not listen
For I am nothing, I am all I am Indifference

Contains extracts for Carl Jungs "Third Sermon to the Dead"