Mass of flesh.
Black in dress.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Hearts no colder.
Hate and anger.
Sadness and death.
Double-edged sword.
The edge is caressed.
Madness.
This is madness.
No better time to render.
Never surrender.
Madness.
This madness.
Shove them in a pit.
Bury me in shit.
Do as you’re fucking told.
Killing each other, your blood is gold.
Mass of flesh.
I am your king of worms.
Black in dress.
Pain is assured.
Shoulder to shoulder.
A mosaic of shields.
Hate and anger.
Release it into the field.
Sadness and death.
This is your fate, this is real.
A double edged sword, die for me or kneel.
Madness.
This is madness.
No better time to render.
Never surrender.
Madness.
This madness.
Shove them in a pit.
Bury me in shit.
Do as you’re fucking told.
Killing each other, your blood is gold.
Mass of flesh.
Reddened crest.
Fodder and carrion, feed the blessed.
Corpse starch and swine blood.
Degenerates in their hovels rut.
God, neither here nor there, save yourself or rot in mud.
Indignant condescending stare, below me, I see your hair, twirling like thunder crosses.
Bring your shit in, and get accosted.
Mass of flesh.
Black in dress.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Hearts no colder.
Hate and anger.
Sadness and death.
Double-edged sword.
The edge is caressed.
Madness.
This is madness.
No better time to render.
Never surrender.
Madness.
This madness.
Shove them in a pit.
Bury me in shit.
Do as you’re fucking told.
Killing each other, your blood is gold.
Corpsemass!
Corpsemass!
Corpsemass!
The ritual unfolds! -Michael David Ament
STÖK 