Secret Chiefs 3 (SC3)

Secret Chiefs 3 (SC3) - Hypostasis Of The Archons songtekst

Je score:


You corpse animators, charcoal burners,

moulders of wax, adherants to the Seen



The Black Hand pushes

Your- agnostic reflex

You- automatons

Of- the animatronic sham



You're planted in the Garden of

Earthly Corporate Temple Messiah





the baby-crackers boomed

and echoed off the Bardo

like half-assed Prometheans

with stupid macrame crowns



Saran-wrapped neurotic SMI LE's

around the Vajra Hell

and sold the "goddess" back to a world

already drowning in Bohemian Snake Oil



Draw open the curtains of the Abyss

where Mother and Father can't

keep up appearances



They switched to Merck-Amphetamines

Our Fearless Leaders have

packed their bags for Babel



And from that PR tower

they shine the beacon down

upon the vampirized world



Where corpse-fucker "artists" back-engineer

their stupid props to attract the dim sparks

back to the dungheap

& now they all shovel shit

down the throat of their beloved Moloch



I've watched the best minds of my generation

prostrate themselves before the myth of

Progressive Evolution

like a bunch of fucking dressed-up rats

spreading "civilization" like its the plague



All points of view

are points of sale

in the Market of the Visible

Equipped with Grand Scale Optics

Transhorizon offshore nations

offer you the best in False Frontiers



A pseudo-individual

is a resource to be mined

like any other product

only, this one sells itself





Where Good is the Harness of the Slave

and Evil is the lash of the Overseer

The Master takes no heed

(but where is there such a Master?)



Under watchful eye of the Unholy See

you Obey Your Thirst like cap-

tive dogs, desires "liberated", free



Substitute Horizons, full-screen

Third world population transfer, no need

Fetishized, Colonized, free

Produce the new location

download it to their screen



Hollywood Triumphant

We'll burn your Holy Land

and give you virtual space

Hollywood Triumphant

Panoptical Surveillance

murdered human race





Behold the Antagonist,

on the Throne of this world

Who dares help him

build in the House of God?

These mortifyers are

sucked dry by the Druj

of their cryptotheocratic nightmares



So who will defend the Temple?

NO ONE! NO ONE! NO ONE!

Burn it down!
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Taal: Engels

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