1. |
D'un Petit Exil
11:54
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It would seem we break our fast
Self-cannibalization
On the shore of a new world prospective sepulcher
We lap up what dregs remain
O' this noble subject
Duly martyred in eternal forgiveness
A miasmic rapture inhibits
Those newfound expatriate lungs
As they waste away on a supposed isle of misfortune
Ere long you'll grow tired of sipping
And long for hearty gulps
O glorious red milk of Paradise
Which the craving of does hypnotize
A proverbial capital of exile
Appears along the banks
As though it were a location
Torn from the dream
Like Ilium
Like Milan
Like Pandaemonium
Like Paris
From the pyre of Ilium, we lay foundation for Rome
Once lost to the seas, we reclaim Milan
Cast out heaven, we pave highways over chaos
We return to Paris for a hundred days of hell with you
The fools had expected their heaving
To at least produce something warm
But the blood spit forth is frozen on impact
We share bread with a pale companion
But not the one you're thinking
Beside that endless, vermilion body of promises
Nous la voyons encore, cette ville mythologique. Au-delà de cette mer écarlate, elle nous attend patiemment. Celle qui s’appelait Paris dans une autre vie; dans l'un de mes rêves.
Nous allons retourner de cette île qui nous détestons: cette pute, Elbe. D'un petit exil, nous transcendons.
What right have we to lament
The loss of our sovereignty
For the world has ended before
In far more dramatic displays
May we rise to grace
Rather than fall to providence
And so we lay the foundation
In the name of this law
There will be hundreds of thousands of lines
Of whichever meter thought best
To canonize our grandest foolishness yet
Our founding Exilium
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2. |
The Sound of Command
06:01
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Tyrant: inadequate pseudonym
Fails to articulate our breadth
Multidimensional Mycobacterium
Enforcing the law throughout the land
Death is our subordinate
He condescends our power thus
That rattle of his, a single facet
A symptom, if you will, of something more
Listen for the horns
Hark
Be patient
And bark back at the sound of command
Do deliberate all you like
Pray consider the ways to submit
Unconscientious one, who fails to grasp
This bond of blood and its import
Listen for the horns
Hark
Be patient
And bark bark at the sound of command
Hark
Be patient
And bark back at the sound of command
Listen for the horns
Kneel before the captain of all these men of death
Lest you squander your prospects
Pleading for life, yet failing to grasp
The higher state this subservience would grant
All praise this consumption it is
Ride with us
Emissary from Hades
Bound for Paradise
And its subsequent corruption
Not through lustful sex
But slothful abstinence
Original sinners left
Too disinterested to fuck
The sound of command
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3. |
Crimson Pleistocene
06:49
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Death is a portal
Traversable hither or thither
Permit the toxemia to guide you
Windows to frozen Elysium
Where glacial gods reigned
Ensanguined monoliths of holiest lethargy
Death is a device
Which you may use as you will
Let romantic fever become your opium
See what you must see
To induce conviction
A boundless kingdom frozen in spacetime
Antimatterhorn
Brumal majesty
Antichrist
Crimson Pleistocene
Witness the birth of our bacillus
In the souls of precious beasts
From the great long cold of our prevalence
Ere the Holocene thawed the conditions of our reign
To see the virtuous felled
To see the prodigious butchered
To see the beautiful ravaged
Sanctified, crimson towers of ice
Metaphysical titans of saturninity
Frozen monuments, symbols of the object
Invoking the next Ice Age
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4. |
In Blood and Phlegm
05:23
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A total and thorough smearing of the lines
Betwixt spirituality and biology
That feared by cowards who likewise fear death
It pangs because devotion is suffering
So it is
Thine sponge-like vessel
Shall be the linchpin
To a pulmonary house of worship
Where we incite the first drops
Expectorate your heart
Cough up your soul
Whatever it takes
Let the first drops expelled be used to sign a pact
And the following drops a proof of concept for the work you wish to com-
plete with your thoracic cavity relinquished to us
To actualize those humors of your choosing in blood and and phlegm
In blood and phlegm
All those limitations
All the material minutia
All these obstacles dissolve
Bring out the cruciform
We shant be afeared
O' that old rotten thing
Bring out the thorns and nails
Present us your wrath
It's of no consequence
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5. |
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Pendant notre séjour ici sur Saint-Hélène, la reine des putes. Nous avons deviné correctement la raison pour votre désobéissance continué. C'est comme si vous croyez que vous allez vous libérer de notre influence, comme quelqu'un qui se réveille après un mauvais rêve ou qui se remet d'une maladie. Est-ce que nous devons continuer à vous rappeler continuellement que nous sommes tellement plus que ça. Comme le graviton, nous sommes dilués dans le monde de votre perception paralysée et vos demi-expériences. Nous sommes tout-puissants.
Voilà, la raison pour notre nosisme. Cependant, nous pensons toujours que vous aussi pouvez vivre pour toujours, si vous le voulez.
You may think us
Master of death alone
But one single force
Are death and life
You too can do without that industriousness
O our glorious sovereignty
How we have missed you so
Return to us our kingdoms
Of frost and lackaday
So easily as we
May terminate
We may commence
And perpetuate
You too can be comfortable there if you like
O our flawless totality
How the yearning was great
Give us a miniature heat death
For the final dry season
To every chosen: deliverance from utility
Fatal flaws with continuity set to hang
Paris expands to accommodate the spirit of every impression and romance in their prime while substance wastes away
Tragic wartorn sentimental who cannot reclaim their former indifference
Timeless archetype lost to memories of a muse since destroyed
Ruminating husk caught between two unequal existences
Sentenced to eternal melancholy without our help
It is we who control the Rhine
We always have
It is we who are masters of Styx
For the two are the same
So challenge us
Petty filth of creation
Descend even lower if you can manage
Ah, so you’re realizing now
What’s coming to pass
We are deeply sorry
It has taken so very long
To arrive at this place
Raw, untarnished, and wholly malleable
Where you can reclaim your indifference
Reconstruct the muse destroyed
And obliterate your melancholy
Name us a disease if you must
With that mortal lexicon
But we are Mycobacterium Tuberculosis Pantocrator
The enforcer of Saturnine Law
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Ashley Kilingfelde Lexington, Kentucky
Ashley Kilingfelde is a death metal project comprised of one man and one sheep; inspired by classic death metal bands like
Entombed and Bolt Thrower, but also classic heavy metal such as Judas Priest and Deep Purple. Influence from progressive groups like Opeth and newer acts like Horrendous and Obliteration is not escaped, however.
"There's as much 'song' as filth and vulgarity." *laughs*
... more
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