The Stone Kruna praha 1. Smrt za kralja! huči nešto u daljini šta se iza brda valja? ide rulja krezubava – proglasila smrt za kralja govnjivom se motkom vode crnica im temelj biće misle idu ka slobodi al’ u dublje jame stiće tutnji nešto u blizini šta se iza ugla valja? ide marva razuzdana priznala je smrt za kralja tone talog čovečanstva vrag je stigo na naplatu u ropcu, sred kaljuge sad brat oko vadi bratu uvire sav život nemo ka matici gde sve biće jedno proglasivši smrt za kralja na dar dobi svako isto krtom rukom znak svoj stavi svak’ da ima kraj uzglavlja zadnjim dahom koprcaju puni žuči i gorčine pene usta, glave krive – popadaše k’o domine uvire sav život nemo ka matici gde je sve k’o jedno dok se kroz daljinu valja odjek truba ravnodušnog kralja 2. Kruna praha Opor smrad u vazduhu, dole u jamama vatre tinjaju. Sve preklano - jama puna, to postaće praha kruna, od leševa punih raka, osta samo kruna praha. Opor smrad u vazduhu, najgore slutnje ponekad se obistinjuju. Sve preklano - jama puna, to postaće praha kruna, od leševa punih raka, ostala je kruna praha. Mole i puze kroz blato i trnje, u vazduhu rezak vonj, momlaju tropare, al' pomoći nema nigde. Plaču mrtvi za živima, ko da ih trgne iz košmara? U vrtlogu koji nema dna, grle se zaklan i nedoklan. Mole i puze kroz blato i trnje, vazduhom se širi opor vonj, mumlaju kondake, al' spasa nigde. Lebdi pep'o po vazduhu, najgore slutnje uvek se obistinjuju. 3. A Phosphorous Spectre Ominous aura in the distance, radiant vistas twist and curl. A menacing presence - a promise of horrors yet to come. Phosphorous spectre, a blaze like no other... the air is somewhat different. Pathogen particles make serpentine shapes, phosphorous fumes, dance and evaporate. Looming, overlapping, with impending certainty, looming, towering, will perdition start from here? Looming, overshadowing, even the devil would show envy. Debris... slowly carried by the wind, stench and disease soon followed, with a repugnant taste of sin. How I've craved to witness the end of days, it arrived with such marvel, set everything ablaze. Phosphorous spectre - A blaze like no other! 4. Antiutopija Jebi se Darvine, ne vređaj majmune Zurim u reku, teku govna i krv Jebi se Orvele, lažeš, još gore je Sve mi to smrdi, gore neg’ strv Žderemo pomije - prste da poližeš Slika i prilika antiutopije Dišem na škrge, zarazan, zlo mi je! Slika i prilika antiutopije Duh što beše slobodan Leži sav izranjavan Vrište rane ljute Nemoj nožem sine Brute Duh što beše slobodan Leži, krklja nedoklan Grozne li sudbine Trza, vapi, overi me Faraon Incitat U inat... svemu! (a verujmo njemu) Poziva žive i mrtve na žrtve Na prinudni rad Svi marš u krdo! Svoj kamen uz brdo guraj Neka se ori A.M.F. - gradimo Had 5. The Golden Cadaver A soul profoundly macabre locked in the golden cadaver Put in a dream as a timeless wreckage Like a wound that breathes the sordid sighs of sardonic might Which by night ignites the flames of our end. Such flames are burnt in an empty hearts of men Nailed to their coffins and carved to their death Banished from their flesh (an entity of the dying kind), abandoned from their pain Such ominous fires burn to sermonize the hate of slain A soul so deeply macabre, dwelled in the golden cadaver Put to (the) death as a timeless bane Like a cry of a blind eye with no tears to soak the flames of the end. Through the void they seek the eternal bliss of the cadaver The atrocity, the ferocity of the mourning bell As the flames arise from the wooden shroud, shape the crimson cloud From the golden mist comes the Devil’s gist, sets the world to burn, viciously. Through the void I’ve reached the eternal bliss of the cadaver As the yellow mist cut my life and twist it to nothingness While my soul arises from the wooden shroud, shapes the crimson cloud Putting life behind the golden walls that once were flesh Cold and pale is the silent vale of the cadavers There the essence of men comes to an end, proclaiming death. A soul profoundly macabre unlocked from the golden cadaver Wherefore the flames arose from the wooden shroud and shaped the crimson cloud And with the golden mist came the Devil’s gist, set the world to burn.