| The last log’s on the bonfire
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| We should go on. |
| Sire
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| Things have gone dire
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| Pray the church has got a strong spire
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| I’m not pious
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| Though I know the gods have one desire
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| To purify via shrines with a song of fire
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| Prepare to enter
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| A harmful world of embers
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| Of half remembered curses darker than the worst December
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| Forget your christmas card. |
| Return to sender
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| We never light yule logs. |
| We burn Dissenters
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| Hurt them and dismember
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| Any wretched urchin who is too determined to surrender
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| Curb their temper
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| Through the nerve endings to the nervous center
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| I swing a broadsword at a lord of cinder
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| And swipe left and right quick as if I’m bored of tinder
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| And all it takes is tinder to scorch a will of timber
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| The more you try to hide the stink the more it lingers
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| Like trauma, muscle memory and sores on fingers
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| It’ll sting more than sitcking splinters in your sphincter
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| Mortal men prepare
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| For an awful winter where
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| There’ll be more claret spilled
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| Than an awkward vintner’s wares
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| You’ll fall hard as if I’ve kicked you down a set of stairs into infinite
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| despair
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| So enter if you dare
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| Chilled fingers each rely on a spark
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| To ignite the pyre
|
| Summon fire from dark
|
| Stoke the ash for embers
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| 'Fore they pry them apart
|
| Smoke rises
|
| Tiger of mind and lion of heart
|
| Chilled fingers each rely on a spark
|
| To ignite the pyre
|
| Summon fire from dark
|
| Stoke the ash for embers
|
| 'Fore they pry them apart
|
| Smoke rises
|
| Tiger of mind and lion of heart
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| The land of lothric is gothic
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| Frothing with toxic
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| Hypnotic
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| Chaotic
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| Catastrophic stuff
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| And all you’ve got to stop it’s what’s in your pocket
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| Accurately calibrated
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| Rapping at a frantic pace
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| In language antiquated
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| Chanting pages of the dankest phrases
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| Chained dance with a dancer’s graces
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| Yours is a damned disgrace
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| I balance chance and fate
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| With a straight stance and gait
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| Don’t aggravate
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| I’ll amputate and lacerate
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| Or strangulate 'till I decapitate
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| And your atoms evaporate
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| Emancipate your plasma form its cells
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| I’ll incapacitate
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| And stab your face
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| 'Till it’s as see-through as a sheet of acetate
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| As a symbol of your sinful ways I hang you from a meat hook
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| I’m unkindled like they took away my ebook
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| Even the darkest souls
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| Are merely parts of a whole
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| Molten pieces cast in a mold
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| He who’s dealing the cards never folds
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| Keep on the path to your goal
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| Unroll a scroll
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| And leave them charred into coal
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| Or dissolved into mulch in a hole
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| Out in the cold
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| And with the whole of your self full holes
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| Oh
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| How does he do that?
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| Always coming up with a new rap
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| At a speed that’s truly too fast
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| While keeping it true to the boom bap
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| True that
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| I don’t mean to brag
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| I’m just making up for what you lack
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| Pulling myself up by the bootstrap
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| Difficulty curves need a new graph
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| I cherish the chance
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| To perish, advance
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| Correcting errors and vanquish terrors
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| That dance in embers at camps
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| Ephemeral phantoms vanish as I replenish my flask
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| Remember the past
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| Then think ahead to the task, It’s vast
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| Summon emebrs form ash
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| Slashing veritable path through the pantheon
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| The wrath of a champion
|
| Chilled fingers each rely on a spark
|
| To ignite the pyre
|
| Summon fire from dark
|
| Stoke the ash for embers
|
| 'Fore they pry them apart
|
| Smoke rises
|
| Tiger of mind and lion of heart
|
| Chilled fingers each rely on a spark
|
| To ignite the pyre
|
| Summon fire from dark
|
| Stoke the ash for embers
|
| 'Fore they pry them apart
|
| Smoke rises
|
| Tiger of mind and lion of heart
|
| Ash… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Darkest Souls , by - Dan Bull. Song from the album Generation Gaming XI, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп