Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Psycrology, artist - Psycroptic. Album song The Scepter of the Ancients, in the genre Date of issue: 11.05.2003
Record label: Unique Leader
Song language: English
Psycrology |
| I watch as you thrash your heads, bowing to a god called metal! |
| I hear your excited cries — your shouts as if he is speaking within you |
| The army approaches the battle site |
| Sound — versus — auricle |
| The group is surrounded by walls that embrace |
| The tumultuous harmony and then fend it off |
| Into enchanted throng |
| Waves of hair it crashes — |
| Onto a grindingshore… valour… |
| We all fear the day a time we hope will be years away |
| Inspection of reflection, recession of hair assaults vision |
| A balding crown, it meets your eye |
| Screams ring out as you face the sky |
| Only those, who did choose, to grow their locks |
| Have this maniacal type trepidation |
| …And when not meeting to receive the aural abuse |
| Worship does not end! |
| Each devotee has his own eclectic bible |
| Some with more volumes than the next |
| Many have similar source of inspiration |
| Although there are naught that are identical |
| Any of those outside the brotherhood shalt not |
| Understand our ways and we should not expect this |
| Not until the day when darkness and light are truly one |
| This is not bad for we do not need them! |
| …Our…will…is…our own… |
| We are already in a situation that’s inflamed |
| Mainstream censors |
| Fuck you megalomaniacs — we can thrive without you |
| We may not have your money or your health |
| But we are free from greed, our intrinsic sociology |
| We don’t need your money — or input! |
| There are many half-breeds who are not enlightened |
| Those who understand but do not love |
| Those who see, understand, but do not feel |
| We accept them, and in many cases support those of half-light |
| But they shall never visit out inner sanctum |
| This shall be kept so precious, such is the disturbing delight |
| Giving us light when its dark |
| Helping us to find where our misgivings lie |
| Giving us dreams and support, source of oneiric omniscience |
| Helping us challenge each plight |
| Selecting and directing our precipitous lives |
| …I suffer adrenaline crimes… its metal that makes me so high! |
| I scream as I thrash my head, bowing to me god… |
| So… honour — metals — pride! |