Get all 7 Sons of Perdition releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Heathen Hof, Gathered Blood, Fossils, Psalms for the Spiritually Dead - Remastered, The Dissolution Orphans, Trinity, and The Kingdom Is On Fire.
1. |
The Summoning
02:45
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We summon thee in darkness
We summon thee through pain
We beckon thee with offerings
And blood which pours like rain
We summon thee in shadow
We summon thee in clay
We carve thy name in holy oaks
That spurn the light of day
We summon thee with terror
We summon thee with glee
We speak through bones of ancestors
Called forth from their sleep
We summon thee to tread again
Through shadows we’ve once known
We summon thee to foul the earth
And render flesh from bone
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2. |
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Beyond the reach of the fire’s cruel glow
Past the fields and hedges
A bellowing voice, so old and so low
Calls out from shadowed legend
Come thee to the old glen
Where we shall dance again
And when the gold morning comes
Arise and shed thy skin
Who shall heed that invitation
To be lost in endless mists
To wander eternal through circles of stone
Ushered by the will-o-the-wisp
Come thee to the old glen
Where we shall dance again
And when the gold morning comes
Thy avatar transcend
So huddle in fear with thy kith and thy kin
In that wan circle of warmth
And guard against the eerie summons
That howls from flesh without form
Or come thee to the old glen
Where we shall dance again
And when the gold morning comes
Break free of the mundane
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3. |
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O lay me not in the consecrated ground
Beyond the reach of my bride’s ancient gods
When I have fallen from this life
Sink this old flesh into the bog
O lay me not in the consecrated ground
Away from the pagan arms of my love
Together we shall moulder ‘neath the mire
Coalescing below as once above
O lay me not in the consecrated ground
To suffer eternity far from my wife
I should choose your flesh-consuming fire
Over the promise of some endless, pointless life
O lay me not in the consecrated ground
Near that foul church that festers on the hill
Tear it down and use the stones for weight
To hold my soul against hers through winter’s chill
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4. |
Burning Boat
04:24
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You tie my hands and bind my feet
You sink me into sodden peat
You call up both my ails and moans
You deflesh these, my yellow bones
You set me adrift on a burning boat
You tighten the noose around my throat
You set me adrift on a burning boat
You tighten the noose around my throat
You scrape and tan my leather skin
You fly it in the wilting wind
You toss my body in a hole
You hang my carcass from a pole
You eat my flesh and drink my blood
You toss what’s left into the mud
You burn my house and slay my kin
You pay me back for my great sin
You set me adrift on a burning boat
You tighten the noose around my throat
You set me adrift on a burning boat
You tighten the noose around my throat
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5. |
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6. |
Calling the Bees
03:18
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Little brownies, little brownies, your master is dead
So fly down for coffee, and cake, and bread
Little brownies, little brownies, your mistress has gone
As the hunted doe leaves her poor yearling fawns
Little brownies, little brownies, their children died too
In the slavering blaze that shall soon consume you
Little brownies, little brownies, the sun has sunk low
The light on the ridge is the fire’s baleful glow
Little brownies, little brownies, see the blood on his hands
Your master has proven himself quite the man
Little brownies, little brownies, do you spy their repose?
In slumber they neglect the buttercup and rose
Little brownies, little brownies, make haste your escape
The flames clamber nearer and the hour grows late
Little brownies, little brownies, follow them to the heavens
All hardships behind you, eternity beckons
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7. |
In the Garden
03:24
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Softly bedded down among crickets, beetles, and worms
Ah not asleep, gone and not gone
Clay turns to clay in the mouth of a skull
In a blanched jawbone; on clavicles like native flutes
Gently moldering in silence, muffled with shovels of dirt
The animals know, the animals know
Merciful time carefully rearranges the bones
The swelling seasons do disturb and put back into place
A hard rain on the roof of a grieving mourner’s shack
A hard rain on the roof of a house all draped in black
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8. |
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Choose you the fairest of beasts and of souls
And lash their choice bodies to the towering maypole
Maybe the gods will accept what you’re proffering
Or maybe they’ll angrily spit out your offering
Go dig up ancestors from weather-worn clay
Venerated guests at the feast of the fey
Maybe they’ll fester and maybe they’ll spoil
But maybe they’ll relish manumit from the soil
Go sound the horn with all the breath from your lungs
From atop the sacred tree from which we were hung
Maybe we’ll listen and maybe we’ll notice
Or maybe we’ll shrug as we feast on the lotus
My skin split and stretched and scraped smooth and clean
To receive direction from a cold hand unseen
The auspices read from my entrails laid bare
Like a whisper that reaches through stone and through air
My skull holds the elixir that ushers the shaman
Through great shadowed realms to commune with the daemons
My bones hollowed out and punctured with holes
To sing to the gods from the depths of your souls
The mad speak through omens and knuckles and blood
To foretell failed crops and ruinous black floods
Should you all listen and should you all fear
The prophetic words of the withered old seers
Maybe you’ll take heed and maybe you’ll notice
Maybe wild ramblings or maybe prognosis
Not that it matters, not that the gods care
Whether or not you were ever even here
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9. |
The Flagellant
04:36
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If you stop this beating heart
And plant my body deep
These humours into soil seep
If you then unearth my bones
And find my flesh is sweet
Pass it ‘round for all to eat
When you all grow fatted
On what rises from my grave
Remember that I gladly gave
Disinter me from the dirt
And lay this holy clay
On the altar in the cave
Forsake not my vacant corpse
Which slumbers in the deep
And sing thee sweetly to my sleep
Visit me with offerings
And prayers that I may keep
Or at countless bedsides shall you weep
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10. |
Götterdämmerung
13:22
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Sons of Perdition Glasgow, UK
Sons of Perdition make weird, dark music. Their seventh release, Heathen Hof, is available May 1, 2022.
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