Flesh Sermons by Human Harvest

Chapter 1

Before the moon can set, before the sky is burning
A time of utter despair, where humanity ends
Among monsters we dwell, a claw rips the surface
A heart of dusk would die, expose the flesh and blood
A misery that falls on man, as men fall to bending knees
Beyond the torment and fear, the pendulum drops
Hell fulfils every brutal promise, every tare of broken skin
Every wound of open flesh, while tears exhaust the innocent
Reflection in crippled eyes, volcanic and treacherous
The vortex of vulgarness, shatter the last hope of men
On this shrine of blood a sacrifice is made
Suffer the faith of the flesh, a death without a meaning
An honour that becomes you
In death there is a beauty, something that will last for eternity
Under the soil the earth is boiling, in a stream of unconscious hate
Time never resembled life, even in the glory of eternal death
With newfound sense of belonging, to a world far below



Chapter 2

A stinking breath of decay, like a growing cancer
A forceful storm that spreads, wash away the last hope
Dying flowers on a fallen land, corroding the fibres of earth
Like the last gasp of life, all light extinguished
An army raising from below, erect but deformed
A sign blurred by distance, the gears of war dispersed
A life spent on your knees, manifested into action
In the modesty of a dying life, grey as we are without suffrage
From the night, we feed on absence, from the day we spew forth the dead
From the dark we gain the power, from the light we gain hate
Grains of sand blown by destruction, fragments of time, souls and slaves
Drowning a in bleak future, wasting away with nothing left
Behind the wire on the edge of your mind, hiding in the final path of hope
But all hope is forever lost, the dawn is here for the last time
From the spawn we feed, we bring death and darkness
We devour every shred of hope, until nothing but death remains



Chapter 3

Cast aside and oppressed, a thick wall of putrid death
Blasted by the times gone by, graced by the eternal flame
Outcasts from times of old, raids amidst barren lands
On blood-stained grounds, where time has no meaning
Riding the winds of plague, vast and dreadful
Fuelled with the purest hate, the glory of death is in his hands
Here, where silence resounds
Allow the rot to grow, longing for the decay
Longing for total death



Chapter 4

From the world of hellfire, temptation lurks within the brimstone
So viciously within the flames, eviscerate the weak
The light of the dying flame, crippled by seared flesh
Worship him, lord of Armageddon, nature's ensuing desperation subsides
The misery of the fires, in ashes that was long forgotten
Inside the crypt of hidden treasures, the serpentine flame comes for us
The grace of the endless morning, brutal howls turned fatal
Crack the mirrors of creation, a sense of fear and betrayal
Until the last dawn no rebirth is spawned
Unto its gripping darkness cast aside
Driven by fire from the abyss
Upon times to come and burn the past
Pale is the future of man, and death follows within
Worlds possessed and demonized, bound by chains and pain
Boiling from deep underground, attempting to reach the surface
A thousand years maybe more, time has finally arrived
Gasp at the might of our presence, swept under a sea of horror
Deceived by the light that touched you, ruined by the dark within



Chapter 5

Through prediction of death, and in ashes, smoke, and flames
The rite of dawn comes to life, casting a shadow across all land
Speak the words of blasphemy, and watch its power grow
Repent and you shall find nothing, rejoice and harvest the spoils
This domination grows each second, with nothing in its way
The reward of total hatred, sons of darkness arise
A primal urge of total wrath, an undivided surge of spite and anger
Let them wash over you like a wave, growing into a tsunami of rage
At the left hand of life, as the right hand of death
We walk through time and space, unknowingly and unwilling to see
Where even the brightest star is dead, so is life itself
And no hope remains, on the left-hand path remain
Life falling leaves on dying trees, branches out and spreads if’s rot
Cancelled by nature itself, and death is here to collect
The scythe severs your lifeline, left with a blank space of nothing
As worms are feeding of your body, all else is forsaken the circle is complete

Mexican label rooted in underground metal, Death, Black, Speed, Thrash and old School Heavy from everywhere no compromisos just Metal

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