• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Every Flower Dies No Matter The Thorns - Warhorse
• Scrape - Warhorse
• Lysergic Communion - Warhorse
• Doom's Bride - Warhorse
• Black Acid Prophecy - Warhorse
• Cutlery Drawer - Errors

Music-Laskowski/Lyrics-Hubbard
See the beauty in evil
See the evil in beauty
Beneath the dense veil
A dismal embrace awaits
The saddened soul
Within the infinite veil
The blackened stars caress
Every flower dies

Music-Hubbard/Lyrics-Hubbard
Razors scrape away the decay
From the inside
Until this shell is empty
The stench of failure is cleansed with hate
Bound
Have nothing
Need nothing
Am nothing but scars
Lost and forgotten pile of shit
Glaring up from the bottom
Feed hunger, consume it whole
Scribble disdain with blood upon the wall
Vomit belief, struggle to suffer
Leave me alone, I'm at one with grief
Save your pity for someone who needs it
Purged of the will to live
I'm better now
Have nothing
Need nothing

Music-Hubbard, Orne/Lyrics-Hubbard
Alter of dawn, bury me in light
Crimson eclipse, blood and body ignite
Lysergic communion, thy cup runneth over
Ascend through the trees as the landscape fades
Disciple of the sun, the red horizon cascades
Burning away the masks meant to hide
Writhing becoming the demon inside
The battel rages for the church of the sun
Victorious, I dethrone the chosen one
Defeated cast the weak to the sea
Perched upon my throne, immortal deity
My kingdom of flames, my servents the stars

Music-Hubbard, Orne/Lyrics-Orne
Might King Osric
Lord and usurper
Solemn strength of times gone
Great triumphs mean nothing
Noble pillar stands
Stone pride defines time
Ever all knowing time
Following endless serpents of Jade
Weary travellers on the crossroads of life
Driven by hatred braided with hope
Searching for truth past
Appolonia...
Sing to the winds
Where the earth meets the sky
Sing to the winds

Music-Hubbard, Laskowski/Lyrics-Hubbard, Orne
The narcotic priest vows vengeance
Upon the righteous, with chalice held high
Crushed by the cross held to dear
Betrayed by their faith as they cry
Communion complete, the masses helpless
Servents in the eyes of the new god
The temple resounds with hymns of allegience
On your knees and witness the birth of a king
Black acid dreams, the moon turns to blood
Black acid dreams, the deafening silence
The mind's eye weeps the blood of a thousand ancients
A chasm of infinity awaits, helpless and broken
A serpent's kiss, eyes of blood, wings of fire
Follow him to the Anti-Eden, Piper of the wicked
Black acid concubine, your soul is mine
Melting temples echo with the hymns of doom
Prophecies become existance
Cower and behold the death of hope
Black acid prophecies

She walked to the top of the park and looked down. "I am Princess and this is my kingdom. I am Princess and this is my crown" she thought, staring at the cars glistening over speed-bumps below, grey clouds mottled, hanging low over the roof-tops. Sitting on the bench she had to pull her jacket tight. Summer was gone. The tree stump where she had sat the Spring before had grown moss, so she lay in the grass. She hoped if she lay there long enough then someone would find her. After about an hour nobody came so she stood up and walked the long way home down Morrell Avenue. When she got indoors it started to rain.
She was thinking about the party she was at the night before. Someone there had said that there were some people upstairs lying in a line on the floor in the dark. They were high. She said: "Like who?" They said: "Like, everyone." She assumed that by this they meant anyone who was cool. Well, the thing was, they were on uppers and she really couldn't think of a worse combination. People in Oxford didn't know how to do drugs. So she went into the kitchen.
The guy she had come to the party with was ignoring her because this other girl he liked was there. "He loves her." she thought. What's worse was she didn't really care. Perched by the microwave, smoke from her cigarette got up her nose. These two girls had been giving her uglies all night. Perhaps it's because she hadn't bothered enough with her clothes, she thought, looking at her plimsolls and fading tan. Summer was gone. One of the girls was looking at her pierced to poise, all porcelain, her face like second-rate lead paint and cold cat eyes, synched belt like upholstery 'round her thick waist, dark lips shining red like a place the sun can't.
She stared blankly back and got up, went upstairs, walked into a room. It was a boy's room, she could tell. A Stale taste of nicotine and Special Brew. She looked at the coppers on the top of the book case and his DVDs: Amelie, La Haine, Way of The Dragon, Die Hard. There was a Radiohead poster on the wall, a keyboard in the corner, neatly stacked CDs and a PC, tobacco coloured curtains, a window half-open breathing out over the backyards and skips.