Lolth

from In Death, We're Cured by Goremantle

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lyrics

The stars are falling,
Our gods are dying,
Your love is fleeting,
Oh death, please hurry.

Your wounds are weeping,
No hearts left beating,
Her word is sacred,
Entombed forever young.

No safety granted,
Come alone with nothing,
Offering her willing,
In death, we're cured.

Such youthful hoping,
Hope saves a village,
Through ritual shes thirsting,
Oh death, forgive.

The stars are falling,
Our gods are dying,
Your love is fleeting,
Oh death, please hurry.

credits

from In Death, We're Cured, released June 20, 2020

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about

Goremantle Melbourne, Australia

Dragging its broken carcass into the mortal realms at its time of ending - Goremantle clacks and contorts its unknowable shambling form into an audible banshee wail crescendoing into a siren call, lamenting the potential of humanity.