Craft

Thorns in the Planet's Side

Craft


I am a destroyer; a channel of Satanic wrath. 
My brothers are me, and I am them. 
I stick thorns in the planet's side. 

Planet of pestilence, refuge for the weak. 
Kneel before Satanic Might! 
With dishonour - there's only one way out. 

Why do you take pride in being the dirt on the face of a planet which is a dirty rock in a filthy universe? 
It makes no fucking sense! 

God of banality, åß?¥; refuge for the needy. 
Even he trembles when facing him: 
God of genius, of destiny, and might. 

I'll go past the light and all the lies! 
I hate the unsightliness of creation. 
I'll go to his kingdom, and I'll bring back the keys.