Feeding the Flies - Kadaverdisciplin

In coal black trenches in the still of the night

Placed in perfect view scattered upon a hill

Below flickering stars they’re feeding their hate

Eagerly waiting for the moment to kill

March of boots in numbers unknown

Piercing the silence, disrupts the heavenly peace

The roar of trumptes the bloodbells chime

Symphony of violence

Psalm of the dead

They’re holding the lines for glory or death

Knee deep in mud of the hand digged trench

Where thousands and millions flies feast

Upon the rotting and decaying flesh of the dead

The sight

The stench

The everlasting nightmare

That even with closed eyes cannot be unseen

In coal black trenches in the still of the night

Placed in perfect view scattered upon a hill

Below flickering stars they’re feeding their hate

Eagerly waiting for the moment to kill

March of boots in numbers unknown

Piercing the silence, disrupts the heavenly peace

The roar of trumptes the bloodbells chime

Symphony of violence

Psalm of the dead

A choir of weeping angels

In the deathbringers dance