The male prostitutes comb their hair
They decorate the napes of their necks with coloured scarfs
Come the dancing girls, the singing girls, the prostitutes of the temple
The courtesans, the people of Ishitar, the whore of Babylon
The women adorn their right side with men’s clothing
With women’s clothing the men adorn their left side
Take hold of me
And hold me fast
Like an engine, a tension string
Bury me at my seventh rib
Give me a son, stay with me
Love me and I shall weeve you riches
I shall make you the greatest king that ever lived
Go in and worship
The great god Remphan
If thou would show me love
Worship the god called Moloch
Behold a man clothed in soft raiment
They that wear soft clothing are in the king's houses
For the noise of drums and timbrels loud
Their children's cries unheard
That passed through the fire
Of human sacrifice, and parents tears
To this grim idol, the sun god of the Ammonites
Now I know all about you wicked witch
You are fire that goes out in the cold
A door that lets the wind in
You are tar that blackens the hands of workman
A weak lime stone foundation that undermines the walls
You are a sandal that causes the wearer to trip and fall
Male and female he created them
And in the day they were created, He called them man
And while he was sleeping, he took one of man’s sides
And made a woman from that part
Males of the temple into sorcerer wives
Ritual emasculation, the primeval man look-alike
Blistering synthwave black metal—you read that correctly—pits infernal rasps against neon-like keys for a scarily good time. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 29, 2022