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Suffocation: "Breeding The Spawn" – 1993

энциклопедия: Suffocation

Состав группы:

  • Doug Cerrito – гитара
  • Terrance Hobbs – гитара
  • Frank Mullen – вокал
  • Chris Richards – бас
  • Mike Smith – ударные

Suffocation: "Breeding The Spawn" – 1993

Композиции:

  1. Beginning Of Sorrow
  2. Breeding The Spawn
  3. Epitaph Of The Credulous
  4. Marital Decimation
  5. Prelude To Repulsion
  6. Anomalistic Offerings
  7. Ornaments Of Decrepancy
  8. Ignorant Deprivation

Лирика

1. Beginning Of Sorrow

The beginning of sorrow has come
You cannot build but can destroy with what is left on earth
Damage, now permanent, is yet enhanced day by day by unstoppable greed
You are never truly happy unless one suffers more than yourself
The choice is none, you will live in a world where you must fight a battle
Some weaker, some stronger, in termination we'll die as one
We fight wars amongst ourselves, enhanced by racial difference
Our hatred never to diminish, it's just growing and growing till our day of release
We race towards the years of tribulation, where wars, plagues and the antichrist

What is the antichrist?
What is it's form?
Questions still asked yet unanswered
No need for answers, with it's arrival brings sorrow, a sorrow soon dealt upon all

Perhaps it's a pestilence in a form of virus spreading in it's own epidemic
Perhaps it is famine killing off millions
Does this happen 'cause we lack enough food?

One man's greed affects others less privileged, a cruel form of population control
Why does this happen?
Is it predestined fate not open for reason or change
It's all been predicted, we'll die in vast numbers of a sickness that has no known cure
We'll play the unknowing yet all are aware
Tribulation is here now for sure

2. Breeding The Spawn

Eulogy inscribed in the scrolls of humanity
Ancient scriptures of predicted demise
A world encased in the womb of it's ignorance
Extinction will be swift, relentless in it's butchery

The structure collapses, spewing forth mutation
Plague bathes the earth from infected skies
Chaotic saturation into the pores of existence
Breeding the horror of known certain death
Effigy awake in it's mummified region
Silent tombs concealed from the light
Crooling afterlife christened by their deaths
Malignant offspring of decrepit birth

Impurity of souls
Visions of the agony tightly close the weeping sky
Spirits of what will be invert the earth infertile
Anxiously await reprisal for the deprived life

Horrifying rituals of unorthodox intelligence

Premature suffering from within their charred domain
Altering the promises of peaceful rest and afterlife
Hideous denial of a once forgotten life

Ascending messiah
Conqueror of the apocalypse

Divine majesty, giver of supreme entity
Church's rise from disturbed grounds
Symphony of depression, purify the past
All will be altered
The dead choir will sing hymns of blasphemous irreverence
Sermons of impiety complement the mass

3. Epitaph Of The Credulous

The servant of the higher power is summoned
by the emptiness of the lost souls. With wings
extended, it sweeps across the land looking
for it's helpless victims. The young and old
are it's prey; the ones not strong enough to
survive. With blood dripping from it's talons
and flesh between it fingers, it feast upon human prey.
Fetuses decorated with blood. Wombs
torn from their mothers; the beast has no feelings. It sees
no remorse and pities the hopeless. It's
meal vast and plentiful, for there are many to
feed upon. You see, there are too many who have
no need to live and something has to clean it up.
It comes with no warning and takes what is his.
The old try to find their way through God. Yet
they are following a lost cause. You see, in his
world, he is God. No God can save you from him.
The beast was called by your so called God to
clean up what has been destroyed by the race
that inhabits this planet. The beast is full and
the weak are scattered among the litter and trash.

4. Marital Decimation

I sit as tomorrow I die and today I will unburden
my soul. These events have tortured me, and destroyed
me. I can still hear her faint screams engulfed in
the atmosphere around me. The stench of ammonia still
encircles the room where her disemboweled corpse lies.
One night returning home, much intoxicated, I fancied
my wife to avoid me.

I seized her with the fury of a demon instantaneously
possessed. I knew myself no longer. My original soul, at
once to leave my body and a more fiendish malevolence,
gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame.

At an instant, I grabbed the knife from the kitchen
and left an incision from ear to ear. In turn, her
limp weak corpse fell instantaneously. I, in return
having received much pleasure from the initial blow,
had begun to cut into her abdomen. Once inside, I began
exploring the regions of her innards. The warm blood
still running, the warm blood still running down my
hands is cold and damp.

I began to remove her intestines, stopping to take a
little nibble or two. Her uterus seems to mesmerize me
as I bury my head into it and lose myself into a world
of the subconscious. For now I know the many pleasures
of my wife, and I will soon be joining her.

5. Prelude To Repulsion

Pressure on the inner walls of my brain grows
heavier. I must alleviate the pain I feel, for
soon many will die as they come before me with
effortless attempts. The search for divine power
beckons me and the only way to achieve is to
destroy. Victims of a torn society lay in waste,
as I pick through the bloody carcasses. Dead
bodies just seem to fall before me.

Saving the most edible morsels, the weak ones
scatter. With bloody weapon in hand, I tear
through the limbs. Cries of anguish filter
through the land, echoing in the valley. Many
have tried to come before me with effortless attempts.
I sift my way through the fields of
dead bodies, stopping to take a trophy or two.

The fields run deep and far, for I have killed
many and I must travel far to reach my destination.

My final resting place, where I will be reborn.
For now, the air is still, smell of dead bodies is
ever so prevalent. I am the last and here I shall
remain. The pain I have once felt is lifted from my being.
Villages of useless waste, a race which does not
deserve to live. I reek havoc amongst the children
from a present with no future.

For I am the strong and those who defy me lay in waste.
The days of travel are long and the stench of how
many I have killed lingers on.

I am tired and need rest, but the forces pulls me to
my destination.

6. Anomalistic Offerings

Evil dwells within the inner sanctum of the mind
Each person has a piece of the puzzle locked inside
It only takes the right key to open the subconscious
Once inside, it feeds like a leech sucking the blood of an organism
Until the whole body is infected with the disease
The mind then becomes cluttered with cloudy visions
of death, killings and all other satanic biddings
It begins to affect thr train of thought
The limbs cease to function, they tend to run amok
Reaching out to grab a utensil of death

Maybe starting with a finger or toe
Once you've started, you can't withhold yourself from continuing
The pain you feel is a mere infractioin of the evil
that dwells within your head

You must continue to rid yourself of the dreaded disease
Maybe if you cut it out, the eye of the plague that
sweeps across your body, you could be whole again
In order to tear this part of yourself, would bare
to die a painful death
It would include opening the skull cavity and removing the brain
An unspeakable horror that no being could handle

Yet you feel as if this were your only hope
Your prepare yourself for surgery
Scalpel in hand, you thrust into the scalp

The pain is unbearable, but you continue making the incision
With drill in hand, you find the seed of the demon inside
Blood spews over the walls as you drill deeper

7. Ornaments Of Decrepancy

Murderous thoughts determined to push me to a
permanent state of insanity. An insanity concealed
but very much present, waiting to be released upon
all. Those who deserve, and those innocently taken
are now victims of a disease with no prejudice. No
one is protected from the mind of a madman determined
to bring upon harm. Death is more severe for those
vulnerable and weak. I have no patience for stupidity.
No one can determine when their life will be taken,
so why live your last days weak and feeble. I know to
kill once will lead to killing again, to find which
form of death is more pleasurable. I often thought
of mummifying the victims to create a new trend of
serial killing. The thought of bodies hanging,
stripped of their internal organs for longer
preservation, left in the woods for unsuspecting
wanderers to reveal. I have not yet decided if the
heads should be trophies or sold for use in occult
rituals. If there's money in it, you can count me in.
I often thought of dismemberment. How many limbs can
be severed before death? Using different body parts
from different victims to create one demented
masterpiece. I would feed human flesh to my next
unsuspecting victim, making sure they enjoyed it, to
prove cannibalism isn't far from any of our minds.
Animals eat animals, man can eat man. Why do I think
this way? It's only getting worse.

8. Ignorant Deprivation

Tattooed from the camps that mark your existence
on a planet deranged from the minds of the Reds.
Inferior race awaiting the moment when you are
dismissed from your service in life. Captive in
torment, the merciless slaughter of souls
misfortuned at birth. Taken from wombs before they
are nurtured, subjected to torture unknown. Where
bodies once lay, the ground in now fertile to sprout
the tree of damnation. A sign of remembdrance that
brings forth the hatred which haunts the deceivers
of life. This deadly disease which goes through one
man, to speak upon one as inferior. Their heads will hang
low because in time they will acknowledge the
human race as the superior. Families incarcerated
commit spousal murder to avoid the sightly pain of their
loved ones. Abducted while sane, now insane,
not by choice, It was forced by the crisis of murder.
Constant infanticide plagues loving mothers as their
newborn is placed in a bed of dead roses.

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