S.A.D.M. - Supreme Avant-garde Death Metal

"So The Monolith Deathcult spake,
Leader of those Armies bright,
Their mighty Statures; on each hand the flames
Driven backward slope their metal spires.

...Farewell happy Fields, Where Joy for ever dwells:
Receive thy new Possessors: Those who bring The Deathcult, not to be changed by Place or Time.
The Deathcult is its own place, and in itself can make a Hell of Heaven, a Heaven of Hell."

We are the vile assault of the Ancients' inheritance
Adorned with gargantuan pinnacles of human genius
Soporific mediocrity hath reigned this world for ages
Pyrrhic victories lead to mass self-congratulation
Unnumbered hollow claims steeped in deep inanity
Teeth were gnashed in anticipation of this atrocity
Our confidence and mockery lead to hysteria
As it suffers another day of us not having disbanded and died yet

Heretic malicious tongues doubt our assumptions as saviors
Branded by envious claims, downtrodden, raising hell
The uncouth four-letter expletive banned by Inquisitions
Depraved sinister Death cults wailing hymns of tribulation
Infidels whipped and flogged fierce with harsh pomposity
Free faculty of the sword against the Deathcult enemies
Stalin organs, sonic booms and mammoth orchestral stabs
The Old Continent is on the brink of a total collapse

Forthwith upright they rear from off the Pool
For what celestial light? Hail horrors, hail
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence

The superior Deathcult
Was moving toward the shore; their ponderous shield
Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,
Hung on their shoulders like the Moon

Forthwith upright they rear from off the Pool
Their mighty Statures; hail horrors, hail

Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; aid the Winds,
And leave a singed bottom all involved
With stench and smoke.

So The Monolith Deathcult spake,
Leader of those massive Armies bright
Eternal glory, massy, large and round,
Hung on their shoulders like the Moon

Like a fishbone in your throat
Come upon you as foretold
Chaos bringers, debauched and cruel
Shall weigh your gods and you

LIke a fishbone in your throat
Charlatans start smelling rat
Bedazzled crowds thrilled to consume
Shall weigh your gods and you

"Before time began, there was... the Cult.
We don't know where it comes from,
Only that it holds the power to create genius art.
That is how this scourge was born,
They ravaged the Steel until it was consumed by death."

Supreme Avant Garde Deathmetal

We are the vile assault of the Ancients' inheritance
Adorned with gargantuan pinnacles of human genius
Soporific mediocrity hath reigned this world for ages
Pyrrhic victories lead to mass self-flagellation
Fatal dumb ugliness sometimes has depths of expression
A pastiche of left-wing cant with fawning references
400 years after the abominable slave trade the Dutch have finally found
Another way to push another atrocity unto mankind