Lyrics Nyarlathotep - The Great Old Ones

Nyarlathotep

He is the scourge
He is the wounds
He is the purge
Who brings the final dooms
The plague of mental madness
The peddler of total sadness
In a dark procession
He walks slowly
In a cold depression
Serenely
He is them
They are him
Prodigy of the gods' brain
The grim
Coming from a land of fire
As a messenger of the impious
Of the false beliefs the purifier
And the callous
A sudden attraction
Forces me to follow the crowd
In a morbid fascination
I let myself be wowed
Despite my cartesian mind
The eyes of the black pharaoh
Make my conscience blind
In a cry of absurd woe
«Soon from the sea a noxious birth began;
Forgotten lands with weedy spires of gold;
The ground was cleft, and mad auroras rolled
Down on the quaking citadels of man
Then, crushing what he chanced to mould in play
The idiot Chaos blew Earth’s dust away.»
«Alors écrasant ce qu’il avait eu l’occasion de modeler
Le Chaos idiot balaya la poussière de la terre.»