1. |
Secret Door
03:17
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You hold the key to secret door, that goes into rooms yet unknown.
You go inside the walls seem to tumble down.
You hear a crash all you can do is look around.
The moments pass your feet they sink into the ground.
Look to the sky and watch the clouds slip away.
The clouds they slip away, dirt surrounds your corpse, gets deeper everyday, goes deeper everyday.
Your dreams are here to stay, what you see makes no sense, confusion rules the day, gets stranger everyday.
You know what lies under this floor, sisters gave their hearts to the Lord.
If you want to find what's in store, you hold the key to secret door.
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2. |
Season of the Witches
03:19
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Your eyes will serve our purpose fine. You'll live the future we divine.
Step inside the circle we've described. Stare into the fire water see the light. We own these bones bring us more alright.
The past's alive alive with stories told. The future's built on blood and bones. We own these bones bring us more tonight.
Your hands will do our bidding well. We'll see this world our living hell.
Cold-hearted, misguided. The ones we put our trust in. Believer, Deceiver. They tell you what you're good for. Embodied, foolhardy. The lie that killed your party. The witches, the season.
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3. |
The 13
04:25
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The 13 witches gather around an altar carved from bone.
Their incantations are to summon the pale mistress from the throne.
The witches dance in mourning, sing sad songs to their lord, Horny Lord.
Until they rise to meet you, burn brighter ever higher, maternal fire.
The congregation gathers, they fear the mistress will return. The 13 will be hunted.At the stake they'll watch them burn.
I see the writing's on the wall. I've watched the prophets rise and fall.
The stories passed down to your kin tell tales of punishment and sin. The mark is on your hand I've seen believers fall down on their knees.
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Mold Golem Toledo, Ohio
Micah Shimborske - guitar, vocals
Mark Reynolds - drums, vocals
Matt Snyder - bass,
vocals
Toledo, Ohio USA heavy metal.
We're always evolving, mutating, growing in the damp dark of the basement. The future will reveal us stronger, heavier, uglier - ever progressing toward our final form.
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