Blood on the Map Songtext
von A Flourishing Scourge

From fire, we wake
Into cold desolate
Condemned infancy
Senses reeling for a taste of malady
Open arteries are dripping with the juice
Sweet salvation from the hunt
This intoxicating fruit
Fertile crescent dilating with the seed
Sedentary occupation
Festering atrocity


We prey upon the tiger
Running from the bull
In the shadow of the horns
We pray unto the storm
To pump blood into the veins
Forcing life against the grain
Justified to execute
These instructions absolute
Drink deeply, the juice

Stack your temples tall
Hang your gardens high
Lest another harlot find his eye
Visage of god
The guise we choose
Flesh facade so easily removed

But what crime deserves this curse of sentience?
No way back to sweet, sublime incognizance
No man is nomad in this cathartic wasteland
As savage gateways open; choose a side the future beckons

Born from the ash, it is time to rise
Blood on the map, it is time to rise
Blind and grotesque, it is time to rise
Burn what is left, it is time to rise