lyrics
Waves of pain crash again the walls of her womb, its maligned cargo desperate to breathe
Clutching her gut, she fled the hearth into freezing rain, thick enough she could not see
Through the long months cultivating the illicit child
Terrified of what dwelled within, its adult’rous source reviled
Wet ground beneath, soaking her dress, legs to the sky
Shamed by the moon shining through the frosting autumn night
Her throat torn by her cries, joined by curious beasts
Seeking the source of malevolence released
The deed was done, she held up her son
His form now known, she screamed
A child of the depths, born of the Devil’s own stock
To disgrace the world, to blaspheme
No human hands to clutch her heaving breast
Seeping scales covered his wilted frame
No lids to shield his rolling eyes, his mouth agape
Awed by a world he could not claim
Cruel propositions engulfed her mind, a path to absolution
A murky cave befitting a macabre demise
With a half-choked sob, she renounced the cursed child
To the jaws of wolves with gleaming eyes
Fleeing the feast, choking down bile and relief
Comforted by patriarchal belief
Fumbling back to the light and heat of home
To forget the maternal horror she’d known
Off in dreams of dimpled cheeks, choirs of babbling cherubim
Oblivious, the door swung wide by crimson snouts, eager to be let in
Following the meat-scent’s trail, she lay now compromised
As was her misdeed devoured, she too shall be excised
credits
from
Brimstone,
released April 23, 2011
All songs by Ichabod Crane.
All lyrics by Scott Roger.
Watercolors by Wednesday Wolf,
www.wednesdaywolf.com
Scott Roger - vocals/guitar
Mike Oiler - guitar/vocals
Matt Spaeth - bass/vocals
Brandon Siegenthaler - drums
Recorded by Robert Reinard at Byahh! Studios, Kent OH
Mastered by Bill Korecky at Mars Studio, Mantua OH
license
all rights reserved
