Из альбома: Deep Tracts of Hell
Come swarm with me, come grind the carver
Come paw the skin, come slay the harvest
Come lick the sky, come reach the heavens
Each grain of flesh, each drop of pleasures
The dustcloud of our lust,
Redeemed in hate
Deoderize our claws of rot
Wash them clean of taste
And we swarm towards the sun or the creedence of it
And we whip the sky for blessings or for the joy of it