Mass Grave from Grief by Ghostsmoker

Burn the heretics
Burn their possessions
Chattering teeth that chant the name of rapture

Lamb to the slaughter
Moth to the flame
Set them on fire
Then piss on their grave

Hands toward the heavens
Eyes toward the dirt
Biting withered tongue
Rotting in the sun

Dead leaves descending from the family tree
Blood soaked in the earth
Drowning all below

Cradled in the arms of phantoms
As they send us off to sleep in the decay of our sins
We are the phantoms rotting in our family tree

Burn the heretics
Burn their possessions
Rattling bones that chant the name of the vile

Rattling bones that chant the name of the vile

To dust we return
The dirt that buries our kin
To the depths we condemn
The souls of the damned

• Metal
• blackened doom
• doom metal
• sludge
• sludge metal
• Melbourne