Letras
Shredded in trenches where bodies feeds soil
Flesh peeled back like harvesting oil
Flayed alive on the sun-burnt racks
They stitch the flags ripped off your spinal track
Welcome to the Skin Fields!
Where your hide is holy yield!
Flesh strung on banners high-
You're not dead 'til you're fully bone dry!
March of the skinners in meat-stained mail
Sewing torsos into sacred veils
Scrolls of skin read by bleeding priests
Every name inked in human grease
Welcome to the Skin Fields!
Where your hide is holy yield!
Flesh strung on banners high-
You're not dead 'til you're fully bone dry!
You'll die screaming-but live as cloth.
We wear your face to praise your rot!
The fields are red! The gullies are full!
The stitchers chant: More skin! More pull!
Welcome to the Skin Fields!
Lined with screams the earth concealed!
Ripped from back to heel divine-
Now you're part of the battleline!
Just remember....
This harvest never ends!!