Get all 9 Thieves releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of EP III, Split with The Ox King, LP I, Demo II, Skeletal Lightning 2012 Summer Compilation, EP I, EP II, Darkest Regions, and 1 more.
1. |
Worship
02:11
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Snake, vermin
Fucking son of a bitch
Addled bastard, puppet king
Pile of refuse dripping with scum
Rancid lord of his faithful swarm
Yammering, grasping, putrid, porcine
Prostrate, shrieking
Grovel on bended knee
Drag us down the slope slick with filth
Kicking thrashing the muck and the mire
Sucking us into an ocean of waste
Struggling as it licks at our necks
Revolting mess
Disgusting shame
Fucking mistake
Sink to your knees, watch the slop drip
Clamor for the shit spilling from gaping lips
Worship the mirror spattered with scum
Lick the glass clean, show us your tongue
Worship
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2. |
Throes
01:37
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Fate has carved its number into our heads
Old man death is singing his sweet song
Silence creeping in from the edge
The weak will die
The strong follow
Dead by our own hands
Forests ablaze, untold suffering
The sky choking with ash
The culling of the human race
Nothing left, nothing grows
We’re already done
The writing’s on the wall
The serpent eats its tail
No hand can mend, no law will save
It’s too little, it’s too late
We made this world our grave
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3. |
Shame
03:41
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A stain, disgrace, a black mark
They died in their shining cocoons, huddled together for warmth
Their skin pressed into the concrete, a mylar shroud ‘round their necks
Welcome ye to the sunset gates
Your shackles wait past the golden door
Behold the horrors wrought by our people
The wretched refuse of our teeming shore
We stand resigned, with silent lips
Drowned out by the shrieking horde
In this land we punish the weak
Our cages wait for the tired, the poor
A stain, disgrace, a black mark
Torn from their family’s arms, embraced by the bone chilling cold
Locked away to be forgotten, some never to return
Welcome ye to the sunset gates
Your shackles wait past the golden door
Behold the horrors wrought by our people
The wretched refuse of our teeming shore
We stand resigned, with silent lips
Drowned out by the shrieking horde
In this land we punish the weak
Our cages wait for the tired, the poor
A stain, disgrace, a black mark
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4. |
Overseer
02:15
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The swine are pushing their way in
The smoke and the fire paid for in full
Swinging their truncheons, kettle and press
The gaoler has come for his pound of flesh
The dead men for whom freedom rings
Rapist lords, and murderer kings
Bring the rope and tear them down
Tear them all to the ground
The girl who shone bright like a brand
Scraping her teeth up from the street
Bloodsoaked youth running for cover
Choking fog curls like a lover
The dead men for whom freedom rings
Rapist lords, and murderer kings
Bring the rope and tear them down
Tear them all to the ground
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