Текст песни The Hymns of Novus Christus - Phasma

My body hasn't known rest in weeks
I cannot sleep until it's complete
Ingredients come to me inside a waking dream
I collect forms as they come to me

First a mother, then vagabond, and king
Then a child who isn't old enough to speak
A stray dog, a bird, little crawling things
Ready to become more, the Psalms they quietly read

Deconstructed
So much more than the sum of their parts
They become one
A body with 15 hearts
I gave it a pair of wings
Formed from flesh from its chest cavity
On its throat I formed several holes
So it never has to open its mouth to sing

Spiderlike appendages sprout all around
Protruding ribs like spikes to heaven
Fingers and teeth have formed a crown
Instead of eyes just two depressions

A pit in its stomach, a place of worship
Ideal to drop your offerings
Filled with blood of faithful servants
And whatever the foreign pilgrims bring

After Eve consumed the apple
A being in constant agony
Like Michelangelo painting the Sistine chapel
I know how much this holy work means

Only venture deep into Cimmerian forests
All of his children to be welcomed disciples
Leading benefactions with untouched vitals
Into the hands of his devoted apostles

Sealing the bond in sanguinary ritual
For both to taste and consume from his bosom
For he is loving and shares all his victuals
A new god, a just god, and not just a simulacrum

Like the old gods before him
He was man made
But he will bring even more bliss and suffering

We will all drink from the well
So do not be dismayed
Feeling his warmth and affection
We will all begin to oscillate
Can you hear him?
He is calling
Discordant hymns within his voice
The earth below is breathing
Heaven is here we can rejoice