Greed, Wrath, Heresy, and Violence


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Papé Satàn, papé Satàn aleppe 
Papé Satàn, papé Satàn aleppe

Here we find the last remnants of the sins of incontinence
The prodigal and those possessed of avarice
Demoniacs of the miserly versus the spend-thrifts
Push money bags with sunken chests as if they all were Sisyphus

Papé Satàn, papé Satàn aleppe
Papé Satàn, papé Satàn aleppe

Why do you horde? Why do you squander
Why do you horde? Why do you squander

Crush their hopes like their bones
While they joust, the bargain Faust
Red runs of profit spill from deleterious accounts

One circle down the wrathful drown
In the rivers of the Styx
The vengeful dead and bilious
Claw each other - perfidious

Beneath their feet the passive seethe
With bottled tempers, gurgling
Hidden in the Stygian weeds
Sulking submerged in sullen grief

Farther in, the City of Dis
Sixth circle entrance in the Styx
Fire lit, guarded by fallen angels
Who patrol the embankment

Over head the dreadful furies
Always vengeful, threaten murder
Twisted sisters, crones with serpent
Manes harry sinners with disdain 

Medusa trails behind them
A looming threat to all abusers
Female rage personified
Gaze petrifies with gorgon eyes

Like gargoyles perched on parapets
Matriarchal demonic guardians
Startle denizens of the tenement
Grave sites wherein lie Arch-heretics 

Epicurus and his arrogant followers
Thought souls die with the body - false arbiters
Languish in tombs engulfed in flames, littered like
Lanterns on the ramparts - they're the hollowed ones

Smoked alive in flaming sepulchers
While harpies shriek and belabor
The heathens and apostates
That rings the circle round the great crater

Papé Satàn, papé Satàn aleppe
Papé Satàn, papé Satàn aleppe

Dive deeper into the cesspit of Dis
Descend down a sheer cliff to see what's within
Before you can reach the first ring of Violence
You are faced with the Minotaur, another guardian

With a face not unlike Moloch
He will frolic in your tears
Sidestep his frenzied charge
To glimpse the squalor of his peers

Murders, tyrants, warmongers, and marauders
Boil in a river of hellfire and blood of their slaughter
The aberrantly violent flounder in the event horizon
Of their crimes, while Chiron strides alongside the Phlegethon

The arrows of the centaurs
Keep them submerged and in their place
Farther out, the second round,
A thorny wood where wolves bay

In the wood of Suicides
Shades turn to gnarled and twisted ents
That are fed upon by harpies
Can only speak when broken or bled

Transfixed and paralytic
Their human form hangs from their limbs
While profligates charge through their brush
Pursued by canines for their whims

(The final round a scorching desert)
Past the forest - a scorching desert

Where blasphemers lie supine
Sodomites run round in circles
While usurers huddle and cry

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Written by: Mark Shaw

Lyrics © DistroKid

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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