paroles de chanson Tongue - Vore Complex

The engines of our sunset gnaw the hide from the Divine

As we slice the bloody sinews
From a freshly-slaughtered sky
The savage glutton lust in our rash of sold-out soul
The meat that cradles every meaning
Guzzled rotten in the cold

Somewhere else
Somewhere soon
One universe sounds out a single tear
And sheds its skin and opens an eye
But not here

As with taut maws ripping down rainbows
We maul each holy space and de-flesh the serene
As an orgy of cheap mouths strip the sacred bare
Its cracked carcass strewn across stinking grey snow
Ranks of steel-lined sneers driving naked shivering dreams
Into night's feral carnival of crimson snares

And somewhere else
Off the side
So soon

Integrity gashed open
Control obsolete
Haunches heave an itch of gullets
Through the tide of red-raw sweat
Squealing scabby stumps clean of the clotting swill
Plucking ripe bone omens from our screaming net
Every snarled heart shackled to the same primal beat
We crew a colourless barque
Out over the dim diffuse words that were once will

Come down
They say
Devour the waste
Come down
They say
Devour the waste
Just a little
Just a little taste
Come down
Come down
Come down
Devour the waste

The last pure lights battered and bled of all shine
Hordes of dirty throats held wide to defile the sublime
Poised to hurl through the surface to what lies beneath
As somewhere closer by one universe turns
Uncoils and curls round through the edge of belief
And bares its own muzzle and changes the real

So that all that's above and all that's below
And all of the things that we thought we could know
And all of the things it brought comfort to feel
Are doused in dark ashes

And everything burns
And everything burns
And everything burns

There is nothing more to reduce
Nothing to distil out of this
Only charred teeth
Only charred dead teeth in time
Shaken from sockets
Cast up in Abyss
And nothing is True
There is no relief
And nothing is real enough now to ask why

We grapple back in motley flocks
All whipped headfirst against the sharp stone sky
We seep back in spoilt clusters and by raw parades
Bitten out of all memory and place and time

The rising wall in the undefined distance
Guards a blunt black flame
Lit
It can never be unmade

Alone
We sense this
Starved
Scattered
Trembling
In the great dark
And are afraid
And are afraid