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CRYPTOPSY LYRICS

Trois-Rivieres Metalfest IV

"Trois-Rivieres Metalfest IV" (2005 DVD)

1. Intro
2. Crown of Horns
3. Slit Your Guts
4. Graves of the Fathers
5. Dead and Dripping
6. Benedictine Convulsions
7. Phobophile
8. Lichmistress
9. Orgiastic Disembowelment
10. Defenestration, Part 1
11. [drum solo] / Defenestration, Part 2
12. Cold Hate, Warm Blood
13. We Bleed
14. Back to the Worms







1. Intro




2. Crown of Horns

Capricornus Rex in tenebris
I long to feel the dark caress
Of your cloven hooves;
I seek the loving warmth of your anus
As I place my worshipful
Lips about your teats.

We hate, and so we gather
By the light of the moon;
The art of veneficium...
This we learned from you...
To make them grieve in their lord,
Their redeemer in flames
Fanned by the scorn of the children
Who now curse his name.

Sire of sin,
You embody me
Undivine...
To you we congregate;
None so vile,
Your magnificent
Crown of horns
Inspires deeds maleficent.

Destroy the parasite [x3],
Destroy Jesus Christ.

They'll crawl in their perdition,
The righteous will be lost
Where gutted angels lie fucked...
Beneath the feunral cross;
We'll dig them a mass grave soon,
And bring to their knees
Those who would have rescinded
The laws of disease.

"The children have turned",
The cherubs wail,
As anticross triumphs
Where the cross has failed.

Hell-spawned majesty, we eagerly
Await the advent of the
Next millennium
When you will return with a swarm from
Beyond to claim your carnal
Lost dominion.




3. Slit Your Guts

Pardon, please, the narrow
Confinement of your limbs;
Unfortunately, it's necessary
For your correction;
Shriek to your heart's
Content, if you wish;
I promise you pain and
Nightmares, in that sequence.

Permit me to introduce you to
"Tuesday"...
I favor her, this pretty blade
So tall and fine;
Hatred and violence are not
Our ways, but firm we are;
Squirming is useless, so is this
Colon, cry for me.

Svelte is implement,
Its gentle caress lets you Bleed;
its subtle curvature
Dancing, deeply slit your guts.

It's for your own good;
You need guidance, I provide;
What is your pleasure? This is
Mine; A welcome change!




4. Graves of the Fathers

Sextons of the churchyard
Have seen unblessed things;
Ground no longer hallowed
Has sprouted new graves.

Descendants of clan
That unsurped maternity
hear whispers in their blood;
This summons of the Fathers.

Adherence to the principle
Of "man by woman born"...
Anachronistic ritual
Soon to be obsolete.

"Forgive me Father
For I know not what I do;
My grave beckons
As irresistable as drawing breath."

Nature abhors a vacuum,
The same is true to a tomb...
It cannot be empty.
A barren womb of plenty...
A vacant grave must be filled.
For this the Fathers' will,
Material birth be abjure,
A mother's cunt is unpure.

Sired in blasphemy,
In nocturnal obeisance to rotted hearts
Filled with necrolatry
Reverse the life cycle be reborn through Death.

"Forgive me Father
For I know not what I do;
I leave a void to fill one,
Hear my prayers from far below."




5. Dead and Dripping

Matriarchal piety disturbed at their
Vespers.
Sisterly society feels the stifling whispers...
Anger of the dead-at-sea denied proper
Interment,
Dumped overboard summarily, washed down
In a current.

Sepulchral consideration...
Wrathful omen...
Dog removed from the casket,
Dead and dripping.

First stage of disintegration... Piecemeal
Decomposition
Of the indignant deceased, submerged for
What reason?
Parchedness of living throats and mouths
Has cracked some tongues
But attempts to slake their thirst (only)
Leads to soaking lungs.

Hearts are heavy, minds are numb, souls
Oppressed...
Supernatural siege upon the landlocked
Dead.
Baptism in netherfluids In their crypts,
(but) Suffocating dryness in the catacombs.

Mad at thirst, they dry
To draw sustenance
From a burial mound;
Necrophagous fails,
Aridity ends lives,
More wet corpses found.

Watery warfare, and in its mist,
The forsaken
Who cry for them, the bridges of
The flaccid god.

Intone a funeral rosary...
Blessed morbid murmur
To hopefully placate the dead and
End the curse of moisture.




6. Benedictine Convulsions

An ominous disembowelment...
The soothslayer is blinded, such is fate;
Abomination to damn the eyes...
For the righteous, a test of faith.

"We thank thee lord, for this tribulation,
We sing thy praises without end;
No matter how rabid the oppressor,
We shall not fail thee, though we pray for
Strength."

Ensnared in the web of the unjesus,
The once-sacrosanct abbey is
Besieged,
With the braying of the
Nightgoat,
Benedictine friars convulse.

Infernal visions flay their souls
As their bodies contort and writhe...
Capricornus nocturnum haunts them,
From their torment springs its delight.

Impaled on one of its many legs,
A bug-eyed Mary gapes on in horror
As her only son is chewed to bits
By spiderchrist... She is flecked with gore.

Caprine morturion leads the bones
Of their departed brethren
In the abbey's catacombs;
When gargoyles vomit blood,
The defunct will ascend
To rend the mortal flesh
Of the brothers of the good word,
And make victims of their guts.

Those who are left,
Of god bereft
Run amongst heads
Suspended by threads.

Crosses up-ended
And frenzied blooshed
For those who sought favour
From their saviour.

"I am messiah"
The grand delusion
To hell-wracked things,
Revelation.




7. Phobophile

In the kitchen
With a screaming triple amputee...
Its completion depends solely
On my needs...
Said amputee's stumps
Are my way of saying... "Thank you
Just for being you."
Its fear tastes better than its limbs.

Terror of morality
I draw from the slowly dying damned
Monsters live behind my eyes;
I let them out and people die.
And all the grave worms
That come for their piece of meat?
I give them dead things..
The wretched living are mine alone

Fright mounts with the body count
To which anthropomancy predicts a decline
In all of God's creation,
Can there be a lifestyle that's better than this?

I mark my territory
With their blood and excritement
And adipocere...
I can find my way in the dark;
My fulfilment is habitually necromanic
And anal abusive..
Seen through the eyes of a mortician

They've "caught" me, as they call it;
My teeth and my semen have betrayed me..
Nevermore!
Tests to gauge my rationale,
The likes of which these feeble minds have
Never seen.

Rorschach blotters,
My responses to which inspire fear...
From my lizard side,
The amoral alien speaks;
"These aren't butterflies,
I see a face I'd like to burn."

Obfuscation
Of the authorities with lies,
And my natur
Alability to charm and be me,
Or whoever they want;
I've known all minds by divine right.




8. Lichmistress

Our lady of seven sorrows,
Mother of mourning, precious lich...

A white horse found your grave,
Then it was beheaded.
The funeral goat's semen
Annoints your resting place.

Far below, the state you're in replenishes
My well of loss
As things from beyond watch as you rot
Beneath me.
Wretchedly, I pine as I begin at once to claw
The earth
To free you from the worms, to free you
From damnation.

The stake in your bosom pains me too...

Wistfully, I gaze into those empty holes
Which once were eyes
That beheld so much blood, that beheld so
Much evil...
Cyanotic lips caress the cold grey face of
One interred
Whose flesh is much too frail, whose flesh
Begins to quiver.

Mistress of my flesh,
Your servant longs for your kiss,
To hold you once again,
All pretty with blood...

Now shall all of heaven weep.




9. Orgiastic Disembowelment

You have sinned.
You will die...
You will be absorbed.

No more god,
Safe at last...
Embrace the abyss.

The dark is warm,
Comforting...
Welcome to the fold.

Close your soul,
Turn your heart,
Learn...

Let us prey
On the weak.
Feed the dark
With their flesh;
Orgiastic disembowelment.

Wretched birth,
Cursed by life,
Now the way is shown.

Happily
Suffering
Skyclad flagellants.

Bask in the
Impure
Caresses of the scourge.

Mortified...
There is no
Sacrifice too great.

Let us prey...

"I am filth,
Born of shit,
And I am
Beloved of flies."

Abomination
In the eyes of all that is holy,
We know who and what you are...
We've learned your name, we know your
Name.

Resisilobus,
Your only designs on the living
Are to oppress and possess;
To make them cry, to make them die.

"As I arose,
Heaven wept,
For I am
Beloved of flies."

Moonlight bloodbath...
The gore runs as black
As their unclean hearts;
Goat cult rite.

Gore-soaked virgin,
In bleeding frenzy,
Parts with her maker
Amidst weeping spirits.




10. Defenestration, Part 1




11. [drum solo] / Defenestration, Part 2




12. Cold Hate, Warm Blood

Late last night at rest with my mate
I'm visited by a victim of hate
A spectoral group, yet they're one and the same
They would never live
Nor would they have a name
A baby too young to walk or to talk
Rocked to sleep with a big, heavy rock
Becomes a tot with a baleful glare
Sucked from life by a shortage of air

A child beyond time without gender
Metamorphing to surrender
Each shape for one older and still
No end to how each could be killed

By chance in the polyverse i'm all of these
Each to fall prey with unnerving ease
To who knows which ambiguous marasmus
It asked at once knowing
And unknowing the answers

To things far removed from my experience
Or need to know and thus it thanked me
For sparing it death's multiplicitous masques
And life's thankless laborious tasks

January, child born alas
February, still still frail as glass
March through a formative period you must
April child, in god, distrusts
May comes and goes and shortlived is the hope
June is the halfway mark of your rope
July child fears end of time
August child in slow decline
September, sense starts to fail
October's child, the burden ails
November's child malingers on
December's child is dead and gone




13. We Bleed

First the climb
Become the status
Regained sight
Undercontrolled
On a directionless path

One should be
The quiet one who would not see
Resemblance in self
And all those spawned

All in the same
Suffering sadness
Incredible truth
Justice to this madness

Remember, forget who you are
Negative and bored
And have given a little too much thought
Here today, long gone yesterday
Saw a million zombies like me
Some of whom have entered the fray

A man with nothing to lose
Will kill quicker than a wolf
Will tear your flesh
And a man with all to gain
He will do the same
Now has easily passed the threshold

We bleed
Like the rest of you pigs
We breed
Fuck like the rest of you parasites

We plead
For an end
The need
For selfishness
We bleed
Ourselves instead

Tortured
Wondering whether
The process of thinking
Duplicates itself
Mirrored by maniacal malicious intentions
Carried out with ease
We bleed

A man with nothing to lose
Has struck swifter than a snake
Displays cold survival
And a man with all to gain
He has done the same
But has never crossed the threshold

Leap across the line
Teeter back and forth
On the brink
Decide which path
You take every hour




14. Back to the Worms

imagine every living thing
forever accompanied
by an alter dimensional being
phantom pain brought on by
the wounding of each individual's
extracorporeal entity

in this violent day and age
we greatly fear their coming rage
what technology has done
forced apart what once was one

electropsychic and highly psychotic
as, unlike an aura, it thinks for itself
inseparable in schizoid existence
once inexorably linked with our own

relationship of symbiotic nature
unbeknownst to human half of dual creature
as the phantom empaths whose pain is intense
learn from the cold voice of experience

mass exodus in an invisible flood
externalization spills torrents of a blood
man has ended his three-dimensional term
they came from the worms
let them go back to the worms

 


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