1. |
The Cretin
03:16
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The Cretin! Inborn defect to infect the masses
Bastardised, contemptible cronies collide
Fools! To them we are the rats, to be lead by the piper
Too late we forget we're not rats
Soulless drones, hypno mode, the blind leading the blind
Vapid mass distraction, prepare for the age of the Cretin.
Cower in shame
The Cretin, turns us on ourselves, when will we learn?
When we submit to this perverted master we might as well be dead
Abbott, Turnbull, Hanson, Shorten, President Trump - motherfucking cretins!!!
The Cretin! We all know who
Decrepit gene pool polluting assassins
Society groans under the strain, where to from here?
Your head hammered to the ground by degenerates
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2. |
Clean Hands
03:43
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You take the moral high ground, you were born on the hill
It's easy to be pious when you've never had to steal
So spit your bile and venom if you find it helps you
One day you'll fall, then you see you're only human too
You can point your fingers when you've got clean hands
Arrogance and ignorance is all you ever had
When your farce is unmasked then you'll understand
You can point your fingers when you've got clean hands
Condemn the souls of all those that you've never met
By divine authority you say you possess
I can't abide your claim to judge morality
When you cover up the filthiest of depravity
Go forth multiply lest you be decreed obscene
Overpopulation children starving in the street
You sit atop your riches robbed from foreign lands
You can point your finger when you've got clean hands
Spit your vile hatred if it helps you stand
You can point your finger when you've got clean hands
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3. |
Beheaded
03:54
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4. |
War is Peace
03:48
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Prophet, before the masses he stands
Appeal to unconscious fear
Hypnotic white noise broadcast
The truth commoditised
Dear Leader, the trusted teacher
Walks among the people like a modern day Jesus
The truth couldn't be further from this fantasy
Veneer illusory, pure sophistry
Bending to the will of masters unseen
Outstretched arms hide claws of deceit
Divide and conquer a cynical sign of the times
Self righteous sinners, I have no respect for your kind
Divide, distrust, destroy
War is peace, freedom is slavery
Plastic heart fashion fascist mind
Hysteria by design
Suspend all liberties, emergency, the new reality
He who shrieks of pernicious distress
Exists to enable the grossest excess
Claimed liberator, dub thee the free
Tightening the grip of authority
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5. |
Unblinking Eye
04:20
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Conscious reason, the nature of being
Digitised into data, reduced to coded memory
Organic minds outdated, replaced and calibrated
The human race a global grid, all are integrated
Tapping unconscious thoughts for 'security'
Consciousness the last fallen line of privacy
Watching, always, through the mind's eye
Nowhere to hide
Resting, never, unblinking eye
There's no escape, no alone
Scanning for subversion, at any and unknown times
Subconscious advertisements, inner-most thoughts data-mined
Nothing your own, your thoughts are now property
No return from singularity
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6. |
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Youthful Prince, heir to the throne
But rumours won't leave him alone
That this claimed son is no true heir
To speak the truth is certain death
The Queen his mother, with her own brother
The Prince the spawn so unnatural
No such scandal goes unpunished
Weakness, an empire's curse
Inbred abomination, affront to nature
Beloved King's untimely death
The time to bring them all down
Ascended to the throne at 13
The young tyrant shows no mercy
Corruption, cruelty, all the people know
Yearn for republic tomorrow
No such scandal goes unpunished
A union of military and anarchy
Marching to the royal seat
Bring the me the head of the impostor King
The reign of obscenity shall end tonight
Chanting masses marching on the castle
Bring me the head of the King
Bloody battle rages, serfs and royal troops
United in intention, tomorrow will be a republic
Begging for mercy the fallen tyrant
The throne sits empty, the people rule tonight
Now the people celebrate no more
The heir in exile has seized control
Rebel troops put down popular strike
Revolutionary heads displayed on a pike
The gentry's power games are the people's pain
The dream is dead, long live the King
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Blood of the Lannisters Brisbane, Australia
In 2014 Blood of the Lannisters was formed by three mates from Brisbane/Gold Coast Australia who love action movies, having
a laugh, and playing metal at ear bleeding volume.
BotLa's sound combines styles such as thrash, death metal, power groove, hardcore, a pinch of jazz and even a little humour.
BANG YA CRETINOUS SKULLS TO BLOOD OF THE LANNISTERS!!!
... more
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