Post by kodos86 on Oct 17, 2008 4:07:24 GMT
I gave the song a few more listens. This is what I make of it thus far (the brackets being for iffy parts):
Many times I have been asked, "what is the axis?"
They ask me, too blinded to realize that they see it everywhere.
Our world is becoming diseased and corrupted.
Filth - adorned as compulsively, our choice to subvert our world
to the image of our increasingly debased flesh.
Because our collective conciousness knows the truth:
you want it, you crave it. This is a new order of beauty.
Why else would we pollute and rape our planet if not
to ritually prepare the world for the coming darkness?
We are the architects of our own hell, and we do our work with relish and [resilitude], willingly, eagerly. We grovel unseeing towards a repulsive yet horribly attractive altar choir of rust, helplessly begging it to come to our dying existence, our perception in turn models our requirement built [ ly], filth adorned through our fear and self loathing until the nearest molecule writhes, wreaking of despair and guilt. Humanity’s hideous grossness filters through the [ ] conscience. We get the new reality which cries in agony for something to awaken our banished flesh. For the dark. Nightmares immerse themselves, quivering and mewling without mouths, gazing stupefied where eyes should not linger. The world will become a sewer. You stumble through derelict corridors, a labyrinth of rusted flesh where wheelchairs circle endlessly in the shadows, to a choir of murmorous and tortured cries speaking only of pain and condemnation, misery, and wretched hunger. Hospital trolleys drip with glistening cloth in the hallway of crawling filth, lie silent and bloated. Crossing through the boundaries of our world into the encroaching horror of the transition that we know. We know that the end will come. This is it, you know this. I now have called you to walk in through normality and in towards the warmth of rot, and willingly, even as we gag the air that reeks with the unpleasant sweetness of dated decay, stagger through the maze of perdition towards its unimaginable center. Straight jacketed things writhe in their own nightmares. Gradually we come to the [ ] even as we claw down the abyss to embrace their cloth. As they become us we become them, a union of suffering. We all come to the same dark in the end. The hell we have created for ourselves [in the cloth of rot]. You had a choice, you made it, and now your fate unfolds before you. Welcome. What is the Axis? We are.
Many times I have been asked, "what is the axis?"
They ask me, too blinded to realize that they see it everywhere.
Our world is becoming diseased and corrupted.
Filth - adorned as compulsively, our choice to subvert our world
to the image of our increasingly debased flesh.
Because our collective conciousness knows the truth:
you want it, you crave it. This is a new order of beauty.
Why else would we pollute and rape our planet if not
to ritually prepare the world for the coming darkness?
We are the architects of our own hell, and we do our work with relish and [resilitude], willingly, eagerly. We grovel unseeing towards a repulsive yet horribly attractive altar choir of rust, helplessly begging it to come to our dying existence, our perception in turn models our requirement built [ ly], filth adorned through our fear and self loathing until the nearest molecule writhes, wreaking of despair and guilt. Humanity’s hideous grossness filters through the [ ] conscience. We get the new reality which cries in agony for something to awaken our banished flesh. For the dark. Nightmares immerse themselves, quivering and mewling without mouths, gazing stupefied where eyes should not linger. The world will become a sewer. You stumble through derelict corridors, a labyrinth of rusted flesh where wheelchairs circle endlessly in the shadows, to a choir of murmorous and tortured cries speaking only of pain and condemnation, misery, and wretched hunger. Hospital trolleys drip with glistening cloth in the hallway of crawling filth, lie silent and bloated. Crossing through the boundaries of our world into the encroaching horror of the transition that we know. We know that the end will come. This is it, you know this. I now have called you to walk in through normality and in towards the warmth of rot, and willingly, even as we gag the air that reeks with the unpleasant sweetness of dated decay, stagger through the maze of perdition towards its unimaginable center. Straight jacketed things writhe in their own nightmares. Gradually we come to the [ ] even as we claw down the abyss to embrace their cloth. As they become us we become them, a union of suffering. We all come to the same dark in the end. The hell we have created for ourselves [in the cloth of rot]. You had a choice, you made it, and now your fate unfolds before you. Welcome. What is the Axis? We are.
