The End - Fetesque Lyrics
The End - Fetesque Lyrics
Infertile wet soil's where it begins. Composition. Mud and skin. Blessed
scavengers foraging through the thing once fetal, but not dead. The
messengers are maggots, meat on their lips. Roots through throat, mouth and
eyes. Growth tears through the organic mass. Fauna is f*cking flora in the
open wide. The oubliette, separation, abandonment. Those are true death.
Stalk against stake will be reaped. It bears the seed of those to be freed.
So suck and swallow it, wash it down with green fluid. That aftertast e is
life. So soft to the touch, in the afterbirth they fell in upon themselves.
When absence takes the young away, don't just stop. Use what's left to
rebuild from the ground up, and it will be. Inside those proteins. A renewed
life being released with bile's ease from the germinated seed. We reaped and
fed. Ingesting them and then loved and bred, remade them in out image. Then
dug holes that hid all our secrets.
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English
Infertile wet soil's where it begins. Composition. Mud and skin. Blessed
scavengers foraging through the thing once fetal, but not dead. The
messengers are maggots, meat on their lips. Roots through throat, mouth and
eyes. Growth tears through the organic mass. Fauna is f*cking flora in the
open wide. The oubliette, separation, abandonment. Those are true death.
Stalk against stake will be reaped. It bears the seed of those to be freed.
So suck and swallow it, wash it down with green fluid. That aftertast e is
life. So soft to the touch, in the afterbirth they fell in upon themselves.
When absence takes the young away, don't just stop. Use what's left to
rebuild from the ground up, and it will be. Inside those proteins. A renewed
life being released with bile's ease from the germinated seed. We reaped and
fed. Ingesting them and then loved and bred, remade them in out image. Then
dug holes that hid all our secrets.
Infertile wet soil's where it begins. Composition. Mud and skin. Blessed
scavengers foraging through the thing once fetal, but not dead. The
messengers are maggots, meat on their lips. Roots through throat, mouth and
eyes. Growth tears through the organic mass. Fauna is f*cking flora in the
open wide. The oubliette, separation, abandonment. Those are true death.
Stalk against stake will be reaped. It bears the seed of those to be freed.
So suck and swallow it, wash it down with green fluid. That aftertast e is
life. So soft to the touch, in the afterbirth they fell in upon themselves.
When absence takes the young away, don't just stop. Use what's left to
rebuild from the ground up, and it will be. Inside those proteins. A renewed
life being released with bile's ease from the germinated seed. We reaped and
fed. Ingesting them and then loved and bred, remade them in out image. Then
dug holes that hid all our secrets.
Writer: AARON WOLFF, ANDREW HERCULES, ANTHONY SALAJKO, SEAN DOOLEY, STEVE WATSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Performed By: The End
Language: English
Length: 3:57
Written by: AARON WOLFF, ANDREW HERCULES, ANTHONY SALAJKO, SEAN DOOLEY, STEVE WATSON