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Beast of Carthage Lyrics

Home of the oaks and the weeds
And the trash that will cover us given any time
Stranded at the tournament soaking up blood
Nourished by the black art of the palace floor
Charging up the hill into machine guns with a plumed helmet and a broken sword
And the ice, sewage ice, it's selling like hot cakes additive slime
Herded to a yellow tape cordoned off place
We were just conscripts forced to wield arms
Lining up the pit with pointed sticks, drive them men downhill into the pit
Beast of carthage makes his call
A carrion smell in the foreman's yard
Climbing up the digisite just for some
a****** named Halliwell on the phone for you
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False Weavers (2013)
People Were Yelling But of Course You Couldn't Help Them The Lash False Weavers Grudge Against the Epitaph Disfigured Isolation The Greymare parts 1 & 2 Bare Ground Belmont Bury the Record A Rat in Thy Dream Beast of Carthage The Greymare part 3 The Lord of Husks and Rinds Fate of Drowning String Follow Sloblands of Fairview