The Filth Will Cleanse

by Graven

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The Void 02:42
Last Breath Tired bones Bruised skin Blood loss from gaped wounds Death march Last Breath Nothingness Lost hope Mute voice Crooked smile of shamed defeat Wither now Golden deeds Man defiled Fallen the words of silence Come home Fear the light Sleep now
Blackness reigns as prophets sing Damned rejoice on cloven hoof This is the way The path of pain That leads to destroy Righteous hand is numb Forgive the fallen Dying glazed eyes Exhaled dead soul Embraced by soil Adversary Penance of man is stillborn in tombs Fork of tongue Kiss of death Shrouded veil Horns of war Burning, flesh of the pure Darkness, drowns the light inside And all that remains, is the gasp of masses. Rise up. Rise and burn.
Imperialist 02:28
The mouths of dead sewn shut. To place the hand inside. The strings show signs of wear. With limbs to place the blame. Dance of shadow hands. Control rising. Acceptance failing. Willing defeat. Take the will of man and run. Suffer This is not the end. Cut the string. Break the fall.
Utopian Womb 04:52
Heeding a liars embrace Solace in the void Walls begin to fall Sin creates the belief Breach through the rift A true natural death Blood that's shed. Devours the host. The cancer spreads. Matron of death, dines with flies. A warm grave signals the end. The failed test of this mortal coil, rests now, in a river of blood. A warm grave signals the end. Cut out, in her arms. In a blanket of sorrow. Severed ties allow wings to break, and skies will part. And when all of the veins have been tapped. And when all the veins been...
Choke on others remains To spit it for a time A snake for the cause Stench of perfect decay Awake, the breath of dying souls. Will, lay this head to sleep. To fall, an honest heart will bleed. Beyond, a blank hole stare of night. Choke on others remains To spit it for a time A snake for the cause Torn, the drone is forced to feed. Above, the fat ones count the screams. Now, the clock begins to slow. Yet, the hunger seems to burn. Blood of the children Scars of their makers Flesh for wasting Blessed by fire With raised hands and soft words. Reach out, land upon deaf ears. To bow heads and clench teeth. To place ropes on throats of helpless. And hang slow by rising sun. Hang slow Rising All for the blood of the children.


released November 14, 2012

P. Maturi, C. Csar, R. Brockmeyer, J. Borowy


all rights reserved



Graven Baltimore, Maryland

Formed in the Summer of 2010. All we really want to do is cave your head in and split your eardrums with our loud toys.

(ex-Swarm Of The Lotus, ex-Burnt By The Sun, ex-Deadlamb, ex-Set The Whore On Fire)

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