The Great worm rise from the pits of crimson
Hungry mouths descend to feast on the flesh of the sacrificial lamb
Boiling blood drips down from the gnashing jaws of the beast
From atop a bleeding mound of death sits the blood god.
Prechorus
Toppling the great corpse flower
Crippling the Lotus Tower
Chorus
Amid the bloody refuse more lotus towers rise.
from the deep black waters where all sunlight dies
Devour with blind fury, belching blood into the sky
Commanding war-born worship, and ritual suicide.
Prechorus
The altar proclaims crimson trophies, tokens of war.
The revelers paint the world red, in his name
skulls piled high, a monument to war glory.
The bloody handed god, raises his spear to the sky.
Prechorus
Chorus
Prechorus
I am the demon who spits on the lords, of deceit
I am the serpent who feasts on the flesh, of the weak
I am the great lord who sits on the throne, of the damned
I am the great worm who waits to consume, all of man.
Cowards Beg
Cowards Scream
The blood god's ire
is what they glean
Falling to thorns below
Stifling the crimson flow.
The great worm awaits at the base of the tower with hunger in his eyes. Gathering the corpses, the human detritus, the feast will soon begin.
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This track was initially intended to be about ritual suicide, with Aztec imagery in mind I began sculpting images of the sacrifices given to a blood thirsty god of war. But this creation swiftly outgrew my bounds and a doctrine of blood spilling and murder was formed in the dark corners of my mind. The crimson lord of war, the bloody handed god, the great worm, among other titles tolerates no cowards, no beggars. Those whose cowardice displeases him are placed within a lotus tower. A great mountain of calcified corpse's, arising from the blood slicked muck. From this tower they are compelled to fling themselves over for all eternity onto the jagged rocks below. In the guise of a giant serpent or worm, the lord of war periodically gathers and gorges upon the scores of the dead. These periods are marked festivals, where in the tribes honouring him in any of his many names, make war and gather trophies, usually skulls, and spill blood in his honour.
Lyrics: Nagaarasha and Zyrnitra
Music: Xenophon, Zyrnitra, Lord Morbulus, Ginnugagap
