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Grand Harvest - Consummatum Est lyrics



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01. Sol Maledictor

Open your eyes
– Let there be light
This is a new dawn – yet to mankind
The twilight of unending night

It´s a light that burns, that purifies
All our feeble hopes, all our hopeless lies
The very same that signed
Our certain self-demise

Look how it’s burning
The skies to hellfire, turning
To serve the fate
We´ve been earning

How I’ve been yearning
– For this day to…

Come, come, come – rise to the skies
Rise, rise Maledictive sun

God’s word undone
Reversing Tetragrammaton
As mushroom-clouds run
Through horizons outdone

I open my eyes to Thy light
Maledictive sun – now let it come

Thy Kingdom Megaton

Sol Maledictor – O, Lucifer Victor!
Sole Triumphator – O, Noctifer Vastator!

“Sic Magnus est Invictus!” dixit Sibylla Maledictrix
Sic Messor Grandis sempiterno dicit:
“Sicut semper: Vigor Mortis vitam rancidam supervicit!”

Rise, rise, rise – won´t you come
Come, come, Maledictive sun

God´s kingdom gone
Now let come Thy dominion
As missile-angels fall
From heavens overrun

I open my arms to Thy warmth
Maledictive sun – Thy will be done

Thy kingdom Megaton

Burning
To serve the fate
We´ve been earning

How I’ve been yearning…
Yearning…

How I´ve been burning…
Burning…
My heart is burning…

For Thy light, Maledictive sun
I open my eyes – I open my arms
And let Thy warmth come

All my failures, all my lies, my tears
My broken dreams
– and sacrifice

Make it all undone, Maledictive sun
Burn them all to none

Burn us all and one
Burn me ´til I´m gone

In this loveless cold
Of outer dark and inner blight
Before the peace of everlasting night
Once more – let there be light
And in Thy arms, Maledictive sun
Let me feel warmth

One final time

02. The Harrow

Fate made flesh shall manifest
As the Harrow of the Final War – behold it rise!
Fueled with spiteful greed and eagerness to molest
Mankind, such fertile soil for the seeds… of its own demise!

We reap what we deserve
As the Harrow breaks the world

As you stand weak and unprepared
On barren fields adorned by lifeless grinning trees
One and all shall perish, none shall be spared
The Harrow of Apocalypse… will never cease!

We reap what we deserve
As the Harrow rapes the world

As you stagger, bleak and unaware
Into burning wastelands, into the arms of Hell
None now left to triumph, one and all now snared
The Harrow of Armageddon ever tolls its bells

Hatred takes form to infest
As the Harrow of the Third and Final Conflict
Your existence through the ages, now seems so absurd
As the Harrow, as the Harrow… rules the world!

Now as it crumbles, as it all is crumbling down
And the whole of mankind kneels
In the light, in the light of Judgement Day
All prayers will go unheard
As the Harrow, as the Harrow grinds the world

We reap what we deserve
We reap what we deserve
As the Harrow, as the Harrow
As the Harrow rends the world

Now as it tumbles, as it all is tumbling down
And the whole of mankind burns
In the light, in the light of nuclear suns
When all, forevermore, is said and done

The Harrow marches on and on!

We reap what we deserve
We reap what we deserve
As the Harrow, as the Harrow
As the Harrow ends the world…

Ends the world

03. No Paler A Horse

No paler a horse sprang spun from the loom
Of the ages of ruin that rang hoarser our doom
Than the clarets of seraphs that clanged seven seals
And sang of our hearse in the plain of Jezreel

No paler a horse shalt trod under hoof, the vainglorious pride of Adam’s bloodline
The Impaler Retrorse shod this blest beast to bear, even into the Palace Divine
And twined in its mane the shrouds of countless dead kingdoms decayed
Like unspoken promises of the plague to end all of plagues

Like the grandest of spokes perched upon Misfortune’s great wheel
Spinning ever ghostly towards Megiddo in the plain of ill-fated Jezreel

Like an equine catafalque clad in the sombre pall of Sheol
Marching towards Megiddo in the plain of ill-fated Jezreel

No paler a horse bore whores more regaled
With the plentiful splendour of Babylon’s grail
Awaiting a horseman, cloaked to conceal
A scythe meant for Megiddo, in the plain of Jezreel

No paler a horse graced the great battlefield
Nor grazed the meat off the cattle, revealed
As lifeless men in vain postures, kneeled
At the crossroads of Megiddo, in the plain of Jezreel

No paler a horse snaked the Harvester past Heaven’s dread zeal
Nor drank the blood off the noblemen, by the scythe now revealed
As angels bled red with their dead king, garrotted and kneeled

Above the plain of Jezreel!

No paler a horse thus fulfilled Death’s great prophecy
That all kingdoms must fall, whether of men or divinity
Thus, Hell followed too in Empyrean halls, now forever sealed and repealed
As the sun fades to black above Megiddo, in the plain of ill-fated Jezreel

No paler a horse wore sickles for shoes, so adorned
As to foreshadow razors closing in on my wrists, torn and worn

And shone in its eyes the sickening light of the Scythe-bearer’s steel
With its shade on my inner Megiddo,
Where flows, where grows, where shows –

All the pain that I feel

No paler a horse had its arrival more fiercely desired in the midst of my own dire toil
Than that singular steed of the Brier of Divorce from this coarse mortal coil
Grand Sire of Life’s Antidote, with bared throat
I ache for the Day of the True Saviours seal
When this world much accursed fades to black

With that wound in my heart
That just wouldn’t heal…

04. As the Vultures Descend

Hear now my swansong, as the carrion fowl come
This is my body, broken – host for your Communion
This is my blood to drink as wine – my will to live is gone
Hear my swansong – here, I end…

As the vultures descend

On wings of death, the vultures come
Astral scavengers, when worlds are undone
To feed on the damned who remain past the End
On wings of death comes the final godsend

As the vultures descend

The astral vultures come
Circling above since it all began
Eating the rotting souls
Of the final war of man

To the playground of Earth, once awake
Now slayground of sleep
To drink from a lake
Which dying children weep

Voracious, vicious, vigilant
– drawn to the swansong of terminal harm
Treacherous, tortuous, triumphant
– like the Nemesis locust swarm

All that remains of us
Will be part of them
On wings of death
Comes the final godsend…

Final godsend

Like a host of falling angels
Now the vultures descend

Man shall reap what he deserves in the End
So despair now, fools…

As the vultures descend


Wretched mankind, wander blind
Through the wreckage of all cultures
Prey and bait, fools one and all –
Now feed yourselves to the vultures!

Exodus of the human race, into deserts abhorred
Lost upon barren plains, how pathetic now, this horde
Thirst ripped parched throats, as ghosts of hunger poured
Rising from the face of this thing they call Lord

Pray and kneel – fools one and all
For seven horrible days and nights
Drink of the poisoned mirage
Now to take your own miserable lives!

All that remains of us
Will be part of them
On wings of death
Comes the final godsend…

Final godsend

Like a host of falling angels
Now the vultures descend

Man shall reap what he deserves in the End
So despair now, fools…

As the vultures descend

Come, exalted wings of death – glide with hunger grotesque
Devour my feeble limbs, stripped in Christlike arabesque
Carry this tortured soul to kiss the lips of the Abyss
Take me far away into the bliss of Nothingness

Hear now my swansong, as the carrion fowl come
This is my body, broken – host for your Communion
This is my blood to drink as wine – my will to live is gone
Hear my swansong – at last...

Here, I end

05. Crowns To Ashes - Thrones To Dust

Death to all!

From the pits of Abaddon shall come
A war-cry unbeknownst to none
A death-threat to all demiurges
Of this world and others scourged

Baptize me Grand Archonoclast
The die of Thanatos is cast
Vex me Vindex of the Void
Apex of all Creators destroyed

Divine and conquered by Death’s hand
A traitor’s trial now to stand
The aeons of woe, how dire their demand
“Spear and skewer the godheads made grand!”

In tyrannicide we trust
Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust
In tyrannicide we trust
Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust

Die! Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust

The Qliphotic surge shall give stillbirth
To the soulless black hole that devours the dirt
From our final hearse, the abyss, unfurls
A funeral-dirge for all life and worlds

Divine and conquered Thou shalt stand
The Day of Wrath is close at hand
The ages of ruin – how their fires command
“Sear and smoulder the deadheads now banned!”

Die! Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust

Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust… to dust
In tyrannicide we trust… we trust
Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust… to dust
For tyrannicide we lust… we lust

Flies of religion, lies of politics
Pharisees all, such is mankind’s curse
Perfidious lauds, sanctimonious frauds
Which only the gifts of Death disperse

Die! Crowns to ashes, thrones to dust

06. My Desolate Sea

As the Bittern´s howl forlorn did ring, so came the bitter times of Spring
Wherein my guilt, I cry – a March of unforgiven scenes and dying dreams
Still my tears are in the rising tides of salt meltwater streams
To raise an end-time flood, a new deluge, to wash this world away

Yet how deep must my lake of tears be wept –
A desolate sea – to ease the ire of Your depths?
I was an unintended curse – my love a pestilence far worse
Now but an outworn sack of skin, full of emptiness within

A desolate sea of rue
Is all I am without You

With the Loon’s red-throated cry did run, mushroom-clouds to wrong the Summer-sun
Wherein my filth, I lie – in hope to die, a dread July, in necromance
Still my piss is in the golden showers of cremating radiance
To fuel an earthly Purgatory, to burn – to burn my sin away

Embrace me, my desolate sea

My dyeing bride of powder-blue
My desolate sea is all I have
Without You…

… every day is a nail through the soul
Every night, an ever-colder black hole
Every morning is a mourning to dawn
Every evening a grieving outdrawn

Thus, if dawns Your day of living agony
Dive then into my desolate sea
Drink deep the void of sweet release
My deathly tears to bring you peace

My desolate sea
Is all that lives in me

Upon the Cormorant’s timeworn mourning call, towered tall Forever Autumn’s Fall
Wherein I fall towards the upraised knife – the end of griefs
Still my blood is in the eldritch red on Queen September’s fallen leaves
To draw by witchcraft black the Final Storm, to blow Her pain away

But an open wound is my desolate sea

Yet how fierce must spring forth
The blood of my broken body
To ease the doom of Your court?

The Grail of Father Death I am become
Mother Tiamat’s fallen Son
Like hers, my gift of sanctuary, a hidden sea, lives on
Though this broken shell shall soon be gone
So take this tear; a dream, writ in wounds, of me undone
All is Yours – You were my Sun

And then the Swansongs on Death’s scythe decree, Everlasting Winter’s night set free
Wherein I die to rise one final time, as the Eleventh Christ of January
Sterile, my seed is in the pale-white ice that blights the wheel of pain´s rebirth
For You, for me, for all humanity – to heal, to heal

Whatever that hurts

Forgive, fair Nymph of Eden, the Winter I am become

My Light You were
My Love
My Sun…

07. Fatehammer

Now falls the sword of Damocles
Lier in wait – impaler of mankind
Scythe of the Grand Harvester, release
Lightbearer of Fate – veiled black to the blind

Descend now, Great Uncreator
A singular strike unimpaired by the moral defect
Bow down to the annihilator
Extermination with complete and absolute effect

Phallus of Phosphorus’ fire, divide
– Our tomb in ashes to sire

Fatehammer
A sign shines in the skies
Myth made Manifest
Spears a history of lies

Fatehammer
Striking from beyond, falling from above
Prophecy made Pain
Fatal, without love

Fatehammer
Destroyer of worlds, unbound
Destiny made Death
Rise up – strike down!

Fatehammer
A sign shines in the skies
Myth made Manifest
Silencing the lies

Now calls the sickle of Cronus Rex
Lurker at the threshold of demise
So befall, shining blade of Falcifer Nex
Despoiler, take flesh – arise!

Attend now, Great Vindicator
Deserving sheep shorn cheap by the Apocalypse Elect
Fools kneel, to the incinerator
Purification by the flame of Armageddon Perfect

Vulva of Vulcanus’ lava, split wide
– Thy womb… our funeral pyre

Fatehammer
A sign shines in the skies
Myth made Manifest
Spears a history of lies

Fatehammer
Striking from beyond, falling from above
Prophecy made Pain
Fatal, without love

Fatehammer
Destroyer of worlds, unbound
Destiny made Death
Rise up – strike down!

Fatehammer
A sign shines in the skies
Myth made Manifest
Silencing the lies

Now burns the urge of Prometheus
A last gift of fire that cannot be swerved
Our spurn, the scourge of Epimetheus
The end is well deserved

Pray for your life to the skies
– Here comes revelation
It takes a mushroom-cloud to realize
– Death is the only salvation!

Fatehammer
A sign shines in the skies
Myth made Manifest
Spears a history of lies

Fatehammer
A sign shines in the skies
Myth made Manifest
Spears a history of lies

Of lies!

Fatehammer – Fatehammer – Fatehammer
Fatehammer – Fatehammer – Fatehammer
Fatehammer – Fatehammer – Fatehammer

Silencing a history of lies

08. In Memoriam - Magnus Invictus

Ad gloriam Tuam – O Magne Invicte
O Messoris Grandis Picte
O Magni Profundi Benedicte

Ad gloriam Tuam – O Magne Invicte!
O Messoris Grandis Picte!
O Magni Profundi Benedicte!

09. Consummatum Est

Hear, o Miserable!

Naught am I but a voice crying in the wild, unwept
Yet from this dungeon-crypt called Earth, vast choirs cry unto the Depths
As ever, the curse of sentient Being weeps a song of woe, disdained
Until the viral plague of Life and its vile Maker are themselves unmade

It is the cry of unbelievers and heretics cornered and stoned
Before the gilded altars of the Gods of Love and Peace
Inciting hate and war by citing Holy Scriptures, rehearsed
By the Crown-Priests of Creation, verse per verse…

Perverse!

The Original sin was Creation, wellspring of the plague of Life
Dust and debris made flesh, by dirty decree made meat
Once saved by the Serpent´s gift and the Flooding Grail of Death
But in the Arks of Miscreant and Covenant, inbred, reset

By Adonai bore Sinai, to crucify our prison-world,
– cry “Father, why? Thy Law and Dogma crucify!”
True Lord of Lies, to mortify our pissed-on world
– godsends rain golden from on high…

It is the cry of outcasts and scapegoats quartered and drawn
Before the Kings of Gold and Power and two-faced Lords of Order and Law
Upon whose solemn brows are carved the archetypal mark
– behind pious masks, behold and hark! – of an Archon and his ark

It is the cry of women sold and raped, scorned worse than whores
In the dirty sewer-dens of the wretched, impoverished and poor
It is the cry of the children, abused from the cradle henceforth
And of broken-winged birds – mauled by human spawn for sport

The young of today nurse new tyrants – and their slaves
What, then, of that so-called Sanctity of Life remains?
No stain soils good intentions – nonetheless, no world of unity
Damned by Nature or plan Divine, Life respawns dread hierarchies

Demiurge, Imago Dei?
– Same word of prey invented pain
But chiefly flies
In sects of terrorists and paedophiles

Griefs upon failures left my mind split
Full of holes of disgrace through the spirit
Doors open wide to enter, empty rooms to be occupied
By the Seers Blind of Nihil – Mute Voices of the Void

Hear, o Miserable!

Naught was I but a voice crying in the wild
Now we come to tell Thee –
The Day of Our Deliverance draws nigh…

De Terrae clamavi
Clamavi ad Te, Magnum Profundum
Misera Terrae clamant ad Te,
Clamant ad Te, Profundum Magnum

Rise!

De Terrae clamavi
Clamavi ad Te, Magnum Profundum
Misera Terrae clamant ad Te,
Clamant ad Te, Profundum Magnum

Rise!

Misera Terrae clamant ad Te!
– Tenebrae, redimite me!
– Tenebrae, suscipite me!

Rise!

Clamavi ad Te, Magnum Profundum
– Tenebrae, amplectimini me!
– Tenebrae, intrate me!!!

I am the Voice of the Darkness that was on the face of the Deep
That reigned before all things began, now to embrace them in Eternal Sleep
Awoken by the din of dull Creation by the First Disturber of Peace
To enter this Tyrant´s world as the Grand Harvester of Sweet Release

I am the Insurrection – Death’s All-Embracing Empathy
The Scythe of Sithra Ahra and the Omega of Entropy
The End itself I am – yet mistake Me not for the enemy

For all Life,
all pain,
all strife,
all Being

Come to final peace

Only in Me

Consummatum est