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The True Beast Full Album Lyrics

Qafsiel - The True Beast cover art
Band
Album

The True Beast

(2018)
TypeAlbum (Studio full-length)
GenresPost-Black Metal
Album rating :  –
Votes :  0
Lyrics > Q > Qafsiel Lyrics (7) > The True Beast Lyrics (7)
Submitted by level 21 록스타 (2018-07-12)       Last modified by level 21 Eagles (2018-07-17)
1. The True Beast I (8:17)
What lies above is the downmost part of the pit.
It’s evident

This march through the sad and the lonely path of life
is something not everyone can endure.
A mocking errand where the pessimist and the realist,
standing immovable side by side, bear the burden of candour.

For the comfort of a great lie is too delicious to be ignored.
Feral thoughts of a sordid feast upon rubbish
begin to lurk in the back of your head,
just like rats on the edge of starvation.

Barging your way to the bottom of the boundless dump
that you raised from indefinite visions of Eden,
befouled and broken,
you stir the garbage above and below.
A supper of numbness
with the ironic taste of delusion

It’s evident
Non ti curar di lor ma passa e...
behold the heirloom of a simple survival
and stray not from the pleasure of a life in denial,
you would look in the mirror where the horror of nature resides,
fooling yourselves with the facade of a smile

Speak not, but look,
and pass them by.
Right as Pontius Pilate would wash his hands clean,
the unwitting cattle will always lack perception
when the farmers acuminate the blades.

There’s no despair with a cold
and barren desert sprawling within.
Youthful vigour gone awry as flickering passion fades away,
in the dark and leaden night of an enchantment

For the comfort of a great lie is too delicious to be ignored
and like rats on the edge of starvation,
you’ll feast on rubbish again

It’s evident
Non ti curar di lor ma passa e...
behold the heirloom of a simple survival
and stray not from the pleasure of a life in denial,
you would look in the mirror where the horror of nature resides,
fooling yourselves with the facade of a smile.
2. The True Beast II (9:42)
There’s something about the pathetic meaning of existence
when everyone has come into life without a purpose.
Most of the time is
grotesque

Each one of you is placed in the right spot of this circus.
Arrays of rulers with their whores and their pawns
surrounded by swarms of freaks, wasters and charlatans
in a turmoil of insanity fighting for supremacy.
As if the prestige of the heavier tombstone
would matter in the end of this farce.

Crawling serpents shedded their skin with scutes and scales of iron as compassion got lost in the bottom of the moat.
You are such stuff as infernos are made on
and your little life is rounded with pain.
Crawling serpents buried their sins

Covens of vultures clothed in suits of greed
will never cease to binge on the edge of horror.
So used to be sustained
on a diet of carrion
and so addicted to the venom di avidità,
they don’t even remember they still can take wing

Hordes of ignavi, overcoming their sloth at last,
knelt down in worship of the fools
For the good laughters have always worked like barbiturates
before the flag would wave again

Miserable poets,
filling their inkwell with hatred
harvested from the disgrace of knowledge,
dull the thoughts with narcotics
for loneliness has got them nothing else left

Crawling serpents shedded their skin with scutes and scales of iron as compassion got lost in the bottom of the moat.
You are such stuff as infernos are made on
and your little life is rounded with pain.
Crawling serpents buried their sins
3. The True Beast III (7:02)
Broken dreams, unsorted romance, miscarried outcomes and a frozen layer of dew embedding the grief.
Bitter incertitudes in thoughts tear your souls apart.
Dumbfounded by the great lie you built up so laboriously,
I have observed your sycophantic selves, sent forth into golgotha, consumed by egotism and arrogance
with a secret desire of nurture
the fantasy of being someone else

As the lords, in a state of perpetual nuisance, would blame the servants for garments too tight to fit.
They would look at the wonder they’ve built
when it collapses
hopelessly

And you behold the delusion of love for one another
as it was anything but a form of self content

Broken dreams, unsorted romance, miscarried outcomes
and a frozen layer of dew embedding the grief.
Bitter incertitudes in thoughts tear your souls apart,
I have observed the great lie
you’ve built up so disgracefully.

Behold the creation of a deception
cloaked in leaves of ambrosia,
as if it wasn't the mere and pure instinct of blind biological urge
to unify matter and spirit together,
sowing the seed of a dogma

As the lords would teach the servants
to desire an existence in gilded cages of solace.
Turpi monatti of a delirious philanthropist machine

And you behold the delusion of love for one another
as it was anything but a form of self content,
idiosyncrasy of the game, a shelter for the weak
pledge of mutual benefit, assurance for the meek
4. The True Beast IV (3:15)
Instrumental
5. The True Beast V (9:05)
Since the inception of this feeble charade of magnificence,
dressed up with delusion, good manners and pride,
you savoured the thrive of your kind.
Handwritten books, sermons of old fools,
bequeathed the cryptic secrets of ruling.
You would learn with claws primed with crimson,
and you would prosper,
defining the circumstances,
infecting the systems like a virus, as you please

It’s like running through melodies and words
of an endless journey unto the firmament
Where each possible rule of nature will shatter
and you reach the fingers of the gods

Where is the dignity in a world
with the greatest guilt of all
The shame of an utmost and ordinary lack of coherence
as man is god asleep and god is man awake
the road to reprobation is all downhill

Domine, labia mea aperies
et os meum annuntiabit mortem tuam
As retribution of each demise,
of each innocent lamb
crossing the Styx.
Minos tail does not bother to forgive.
Another moon will pass by,
You’ll sit with yellow worn out eyes of gluttony,
as if you couldn’t be anything better,
as if any of this doesn’t matter
for the sake of your greed

Filthy, polluted rain and hailstones pouring continuously
as the three headed dog looms from above,
snarling with his might and echoing
through the ashes of your former rues and your everlasting egotism, in the aberrant manifest of a paradox

Where is the dignity in a world
with the greatest guilt of all
The shame of an utmost and ordinary lack of coherence
as man is god asleep and god is man awake
the road to reprobation is all downhill
6. The True Beast VI (7:30)
Repent ye for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.
Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight
or suffer the consequences
Threats were drawn

As if it were imperative
As if you couldn't fall deeper
There i witnessed a desperate need to belong,
hence the foolish grounds
to clash each other with mindless faith,
just like you would do in every other circumstances.
Same
Innate, unceasing lust for blood

And the claims of righteousness led to warfare,
for out of the heart and from within come evil thoughts,
murder, theft, false witness and slander.
Oh beautiful creatures yet so imperfect,
pandemic armageddon, walking the earth

Repent Repent for the kingdom of men is near the end
Repent for the kingdom of men will fall by your own hand

Threats were drawn
7. The True Beast VII (10:06)
“Voi eravate il sigillo alla perfezione, pieni di saggezza, di una bellezza perfetta;
Eravate come un cherubino dalle ali distese, un protettore.
Vi avevamo stabilito, stavate sul monte santo di Dio e camminavate in mezzo a pietre di fuoco.
Eravate perfetti nelle vostre vie dal giorno in cui foste creati, finché non si trovò in voi l’iniquità.
Per l'abbondanza del vostro commercio, tutto in voi si riempi di violenza, e peccaste; perciò vi cacciai via, come un profano, dal monte di Dio e vi feci sparire, di mezzo alle pietre di fuoco.
Negli inferi precipito il vostro fasto e la musica delle vostre arpe.
Sotto di voi v'è uno strato di marciume, e vostra coltre sono i vermi.”

Fire and brimstone were always meant to drop down the curtains
on this despicable display, adorned with deceit and misery.
Howling jackals, beautifully attired, perched on the ringside seats,
as the triumph of your idiocy
glowed at the sound of the most delicate melody
in the overture
They wouldn't stop staring at their shiny gilded clocks,
for midnight has never been so close by

The sacred fire of the gods has been manufactured
and brought down to earth
as the evening sun of Atum dusks beyond the horizon of creation
leaving crumbs of hope to flicker
in the vast gloom of your days

How could you possibly care not
about anything other than the pale reflection of your tumefied ego
As if transcendency was paramount
How could you possibly think not
of every miracle you’ve been bestowed
Brought to naught
You are Death, shatterer of worlds,
behold the true beast

A bright star fell from the sky at the sound of the third angel
and poisoned the fountains of waters,
bitter as wormwood.
Sent not by the lord but by the iniquity of men,
gadgets of doom will cover the path of the righteous, with a fleecy shroud of lies.

Abashed the devil stood
as he felt goodness was nowhere to be found
And the courage was lost
among the craven coils of mediocrity
A feculent strain of celestials has risen
among the earthly creatures...
behold the true beast

How could you possibly care not
about anything other than the pale reflection of your tumefied ego
As if transcendency was paramount
How could you possibly think not
of every miracle you’ve been bestowed
Brought to naught
You are Death, shatterer of worlds,
behold the true beast
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