Kill a man and you are a murderer
Kill millions of men and you are a conqueror
Kill everyone and you are a God
[Jean Rostard (1955)]

Born of the best of enemies
Beyond the pearly constellations
Wherein heaven has no embassy
And hope no surly grip on reason

Yahweh: Frankincense
Satan; gold and murder

He is sly, bejewelled with sylph
Slick limbs spread wide to guide you through the filth
And rust
Crawl to him fuelled by lust

He's the horned one in the pentagram
A waste of chaos by the gram
Dark eyes for trouble, double damned
Despair
The storm upon lake lacrymose
Restless. Never comatose
The thorn upon the single rose
We share

Germination

His a renegade a capella now obeyed
A shitstorm without warning
The pleasuit king in yellow on parade
Son of the thunderous morning

Yahweh: Frankincense
Satan: Gold and murder

He is high. Inured with vice
The tower-cree er on our edelweiss
Career
A foreign power cut of utter fear

Taught curiosity, he s atrocity. Banned
The taste of chaos by the dram
A tortured course like slaughtered lamb
Best rare
The curse that haunts this thirsting tomb
Disturbed, becomes the worst of doom
Rehearsing all his worth for soon
He's there

Extermination

He is hatred. Greed and war
He is everything we ought abhor
Were it not for the fateful truth
Be sure
We suffer him all the more

And lo! His tyrant's eye
Is fixed upon our rich and vibrant sky
Now hear the wind
Herald desolation

As on that eve when angels clad
In nothing but their whispered virtues
Slipped into the valley
Of the dirty serpentine

Hes the horned one in the pentagram
A waste of chaos by the gram
Dark eyes for trouble, double damned
Despair
The storm upon lake lacrymose
Restless, never comatose
The thorn u on the single rose
We share

Desperation

Disdainful. He self-deprecates
The mirror's jagged stare
And it's painful how we subjugate
The grinning face reflected in there

Yahweh: Frankincense
Satan; gold and murder