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lyrics
There's blood in the offering plate.
It's pouring in puddles. It's pouring in waves.
No clots or need to cauterize.
No tourniquet for the grace un-earned.
I'm on the mend but I'm out of line.
Old haunts for a comfortable soul.
Pray for bits in the mouths of the horses.
Pray for bits in the mouths of the men.
Divine reigns, the eternal spur.
Spare us the conscience and vanish the debt.
Pray for bits in the mouths of the horses.
Pray for bits in the mouths of the men.
The messiah: equestrian king.
Saddle the tame and bridle the dead.
Swarm of the selfish caste.
One first, another last.
Diluted or un-flawed.
Crooked in their contrast.
None worthy. None upright.
There's blood in the offering plate.
It's pouring on sinners. It's pouring on graves.
Mindless and shameless herd.
Far as the curse is found.
Chicago deathcore outfit Into the Silo torch everything in sight on this searing new LP with riffs that will leave bruises. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 21, 2022