Blacksoul Seraphim - Alms & Avarice | Текст песни

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• Blacksoul Seraphim
• Alms & Avarice

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Herein lies the crown
Jagged to the touch –brimstone forged
Vaulted within the illusions
Clergy of kings, vermillion and engorged.

These are the times
Of the peasants’ pestilence
Resilient and the pious
Praying to be cleansed

Herein they crowned the lies
Gilded swords cross the throats of the sick and the blind
Halberds arch the path
Devils scrutinize as the millstone grinds.

Tyranny is the pox
This citadel, sick with material bliss
Spines will shatter upon the rocks
This earthly divide: Alms and Avarice.

In this great city, charity is the leash upon the destitute, ensuring their survival and containment. Salvation, a commodity, is bought and sold in writs of parchment. The benevolent prophecies most palatable by forked tongues have been engraved into man’s law, and liars and lechers enjoy sanctified immunity in the name of an aberrant crown. Alms are given to quell the rage of hunger, and Avarice has built this earthly layer of the underworld to pay homage to an unseen malefactor.