From the recording Le Banquet des Damnés
Lyrics
Verse:
Avant-garde decor, I write with King Arthur’s sword
Ivory doors seem to absorb relics of a prophet’s lore
I been conversing with the corpse
Embalmed in the flora, Hakuna no mora
We grew to be the source, armed cathedral of these wars
The reason thieves remorseful when deceit meets the Lord
Howard with the scalpel, my intentions never cordial
Stitching flesh became formal, podcasters turn immortal
Walrus in the chapel now the gospel allegorical
Carve a man’s story, hear his horror screech deplorable
Sewn into sermons where the symmetry is tragic
Grim imagery crafted, dim lit, cinematic
Fate sketched in the attic turn a sinner charismatic
From the marrow to the tusk, there’s a terror in the hush
Blood boil then it rush to make the arrogant adjust
Every narrative corrupt to watch humanity combust
North winds baptize the ruthless and robust
As the candlelight flickers, puppets dancing in disgust
Viscera in vestibules that houses ghosts and phantom ghouls
Depeche Mode in mausoleums of the damned and cruel
Chandeliers swing like pendulums of abandoned jewels
Mapping ruins, handshakes of famished goons twist to duels
Manuscripts in blood ink, the candle’s gloom interprets doom
Orchestra of insects playing dirges in the surgeon’s room
Curtains bloom with crimson, hieroglyphics in the coke fumes
Write these verse on a tomb, this cinema where sinners loom
Dystopian Cancun got us strapped up with harpoons
Rappers drop they magnum opus, turn that to an interlude
Polished sinew of the fallen adapt or stop evolving
Roses blooming from the coffins, I will turn your kin to gardens
Hemoglobins hit the window, see the stained glass during morning
Even paradise decays but heaven don’t reimburse
Know some angels barter halos, trading mercy for the curse
Ending up like Wallace beneath the surface, roots entangled in the earth
Bloodletters taking notes while the penitents disperse
Seraphims shall traverse telling a story they never penned
Wax serpents won’t ascend, my closet full of skeletons
How did I end up in hell again, mister known to ride with them
My brother, my dawg, my fam, they know I’m down to die with them
But Judas took off with the diadem, guilt got me drowning in my sin
Now darkness my only friend
Well Mr. Tusk, the walrus must learn to swim