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  2. R.O.D.

R.O.D. Lyrics



It's approaching
600 pounds gas and flesh
Robes in tatters
It's approaching
Lips and tongue abhorrent
Flickering lexicon
Or a stray dog pack leader



Hide hide, all good people hang out for a result
Hide dive hide, reasonable people in silence do exult
Realm of dusk



The Northerns
Look at the North ones
Their brains are unhinged by the sun



Rare stone
Our [faeces/faces] are rare stone
It comes to take them
Move out the armies



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