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Theomachia Full Album Lyrics

Spearhead - Theomachia cover art
Band
Album

Theomachia

(2011)
TypeAlbum (Studio full-length)
GenresBlack Metal, Death Metal
Album rating :  85 / 100
Votes :  1
Lyrics > S > Spearhead Lyrics (26) > Theomachia Lyrics (8)
Submitted by level 21 록스타 (2017-10-01)
1. Eschatos (1:11)
2. The Lie of Progression (3:19)
No lie is more endemic to this era
Nor more diseased
Than the lie of progression

No lie is more self-aggrandising
Entrenched, hostile to truth
Than the lie of progression

Do we not decay?
Do we not perish?
Unlike those wise with years
Our years have brought madness

That by the fact of our own era we must be right
More so than those, our fathers, it’s held that we advance
With every generation, ennobling ourselves
In chronocentric and blind narcissistic hell

This world is fated
Approaching its nadir
Walking the path away
From any higher order

The utterances of slaves, flouting eternal laws
Suckling at the black teat of Kali with dripping maws
Yet victory goes to those who know how to obey
In total scorn defying the lie of progression
3. Kshatriya (3:12)
Worker of divine will and mandate of heaven
Kshatriya thou master of the chaos that thou art
Enduring the spear without agony
As the knightly horse who rarely feels the master’s whip

Attending to the only order timeless and unauthored
The sentry of his arms, who sees without sight
Servant of the hammer of eternity’s execration
With the blood-stained hands of a healer and a king - and a king

Attendees to madness, they who light the great black fire
Wherein one day nigh they will be cast
While the kshatriya lights the Self-ignited flame
To burn alive their hollow, craven hope of peace

Those ripe to bring ruin to the world of profane creation
Around whom such is an immortal silence born
A greater silence when the dawn of fire comes
Mere instruments of a boundless will divine
Thus spoke the sun: “Tasmat tvam uttishta!”

The heavy burden of the earth, thou justly cast to desolation
Kshatriya thou master of the ascesis of power
Standing upon mountains, as the sorrowful look on in mourning
By a will transhuman, raise a prayer to total war
4. Perdition Tide (3:39)
In the mythoi of all worlds, in all eras
In the ancient rhymes of verse, ageless and hallowed
Are the pure whispers singing of the end

The heart of all the races past, who left us their words
Beat in full knowledge that it will have an end
As it had its primal source, both which the same
A sacred bridge whose name is carnage and decay

Bearing alone the footsteps of the gods
Far from the rising tide of death
Which follows dissent divine

The final throes of entropy are sworn
Bitter sleep of the sovereign sun
Whose child from abyssal womb
Will bless the seed of gold

When echoes divine dissent, perceived below
The race of earth will answer in antiphonal cries
To take up arms with gods, a future bestowed
Or perish in the earthly dust’s unbidden demise
5. Polemos Pater Panton (4:34)
Now father has set in flesh
Great bequeather and sufficient cause
What before was not, king of all effects
Ruler of all creation

Strife - all gods and men reveal
Of substance thou art father
War - here dictate by thy hands
Bear the names of all births and deaths

Strife - the nature of all agents
Speaks in life’s anthesis
Shall he remain man, or become a god
In the conflict of all?
Name the enslavers and saviours
By one the other strife designates
The bow would be left unstrung
And the cosmos dead but for war

To all things that find existence in conception
Strife is the father of all in nature
To all things acknowledge your monarch and king
Polemos pater panton

“Would that Conflict vanish from among both men and gods”
The declaration leapt from Achilles’ tongue
Would thou pray for the destruction of all moving objects?
For even man and god are both born of war

Source of the light and the dark
Both share a stem in strife
False - the error that they are two
The harmony of opposing force

To all things that swim in the current of creation
War the baptizer and regulator
To all things render your fealty in return
Polemos pater panton
6. Praesagium (1:08)
7. Herald the Lightning (5:00)
Lay waste the earth on winged steed
Exterminate in their thousands those thieves
All those who dared to dress as kings
And wear the raiment of mastery

Tenth and final avatara, who will set the bounds of cosmos
Great striding blood-avenger of the cleansing storm
That sets ablaze horizons, entombing Age of Iron
To sire those god-kings who will live a thousand years

Lay waste the earth under steel hooves
Quelling underfoot whom it behoved
To sing the paeans of false parity
Assuming praise for an order of nullity

To those who will fall like gold leaves
Heralds constituting the book of New Dawn
Whose chapters may be written
But yet whose blood will be the ink

Exterminate all those bodies of men
Who bear the name and designation of king
Eradicate him wedded to hunger
For soon his name will be ashes
Extirpate those upon whose faces
The fumes of vice are ever manifest
Inhume those who left abandoned
Their only worth when they forsook their servitude

Who fire brings, and ushers in the new age
And crushes earth with the great stamp of his heel
Who winter brings, to purify the whole earth
From all those by indolence swollen
Who cleanses both of the world halves by truth
Inaugurate the sons of gods on earth
Blood revenge, to slay the wolf unleashed
Which bit the hand of the august god of order
8. Prey to the Conqueror (3:33)
Those who see not that sword, that’s like unto a thousand suns
The diffident in arms and unaligned
Who drinking from the poisoned cup of the world illusion
Will ever fall a prey to the conqueror

As an aerolith that shatters the sky
The superior nature shall discern all, above all

The realm of that victory unvanquished
Is that of the shatterers of illusion
While those of the diurnal sleep
Shall ever fall a prey to the conqueror

Conqueror! Conqueror! Conqueror! Conqueror!

A knife in the lotus of Aetas
9. Autocrator (3:33)
As a beast who steals itself away at night
From the fields of other fatted kine
Who relishes the ripe fruit of his own distinction
Without the slavering of lips of swine

No mere matter of poor words
He who crafts his own laws
Whose right is lucid yet shadowed
Remaining unbroken by wars

Onward, onward to supremacy

The reins he seizes of serpents
Decisive, resolved in his will
Who scorns the fangs of concession
Beyond the sphere of thralls

This heir to rule carries a rope, nourished by his own deeds
To where those in toil dissipate their futile years
With hammer and saw, constructing their own gallows
Taking abode in oblivion’s hands
Heirs, heirs to but loam
Heirs, heirs to death
10. To Slake the Thirst of Ages (3:40)
To feed the ages which sup on rise and fall
To make a blood offering to decay itself
Did cast off Mars’ attendant, sanctioned white robes
Besieged by the poisons of pure senescence

Dry, without libations shall lie imperial soil
Lest it be the sweet wine of its own demise
Thirsting for oblations of blood upon its altars
Lest it be the forsaken blood of its own youth

Fallow thy temples of stone
Thrown open to beasts
Observing cold centuries
Where no works are spared

When the gates of Mars were closed and hands chained
In the lap of a corruption more fell than arms
To slake the ages did that empire fall
For the past is pregnant with a future ready seen
11. Aftermath (4:09)
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