As He Creates So He Destroys Lyrics

Song	As He Creates So He Destroys
Artist	Nile
Album	Ithyphallic
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : Kollias, Sanders, Toler Wade
	At the seething and fiery center
	He sits upon his ebon throne
	Within his halls of darkness
	Which no man has seen and survived the vision
	Both blind and bereft of mind
	He pipes unceasingly
	And the notes that rise and fall in measured patterns are the foundations of all the worlds
	Ever calculating in sound the structure of space and time
	Were his flute ever to suddenly fall silent
	All the spheres would shatter into one another
	And the myraids of worlds
	Would be unmade
	As they were before creation
	The flute of the blind idiot
	Both makes and unmakes the worlds in ceaseless combinations
	Spinning on the woven carpet of time
	No creation without destruction
	No destruction without creation
	To unmake a thing is to make another
	Each time a thing is made
	Another is destroyed
	Solo dallas
	The idiot god on his black throne
	Does not choose
	What shall rise into being
	And what should pass away
	He cares only to maintain
	His mindless unholy music of random creation and destruction
	No living creature can look upon his face
	And endure its terrible heat
	And black radiance
	That is like the reverberating unseen rays of molten iron
	Which strik and burn the skin of those who would dare
	Gaze into the countenance of the idiot god
	Never does he recieve supplicants
	In his black halls of uncouth angles and stranges doors
	Nor does he ever hear prayers or answer them
	Endlessly he pipes
	And endlessly he devours his own substance
	For his hunger is insatiable
	As he consumes his own wastes after the customm of idiots
	As he creates
	So he destroys

	zuo qu : Kollias, Sanders, Toler Wade
	At the seething and fiery center
	He sits upon his ebon throne
	Within his halls of darkness
	Which no man has seen and survived the vision
	Both blind and bereft of mind
	He pipes unceasingly
	And the notes that rise and fall in measured patterns are the foundations of all the worlds
	Ever calculating in sound the structure of space and time
	Were his flute ever to suddenly fall silent
	All the spheres would shatter into one another
	And the myraids of worlds
	Would be unmade
	As they were before creation
	The flute of the blind idiot
	Both makes and unmakes the worlds in ceaseless combinations
	Spinning on the woven carpet of time
	No creation without destruction
	No destruction without creation
	To unmake a thing is to make another
	Each time a thing is made
	Another is destroyed
	Solo dallas
	The idiot god on his black throne
	Does not choose
	What shall rise into being
	And what should pass away
	He cares only to maintain
	His mindless unholy music of random creation and destruction
	No living creature can look upon his face
	And endure its terrible heat
	And black radiance
	That is like the reverberating unseen rays of molten iron
	Which strik and burn the skin of those who would dare
	Gaze into the countenance of the idiot god
	Never does he recieve supplicants
	In his black halls of uncouth angles and stranges doors
	Nor does he ever hear prayers or answer them
	Endlessly he pipes
	And endlessly he devours his own substance
	For his hunger is insatiable
	As he consumes his own wastes after the customm of idiots
	As he creates
	So he destroys

	zuò qǔ : Kollias, Sanders, Toler Wade
	At the seething and fiery center
	He sits upon his ebon throne
	Within his halls of darkness
	Which no man has seen and survived the vision
	Both blind and bereft of mind
	He pipes unceasingly
	And the notes that rise and fall in measured patterns are the foundations of all the worlds
	Ever calculating in sound the structure of space and time
	Were his flute ever to suddenly fall silent
	All the spheres would shatter into one another
	And the myraids of worlds
	Would be unmade
	As they were before creation
	The flute of the blind idiot
	Both makes and unmakes the worlds in ceaseless combinations
	Spinning on the woven carpet of time
	No creation without destruction
	No destruction without creation
	To unmake a thing is to make another
	Each time a thing is made
	Another is destroyed
	Solo dallas
	The idiot god on his black throne
	Does not choose
	What shall rise into being
	And what should pass away
	He cares only to maintain
	His mindless unholy music of random creation and destruction
	No living creature can look upon his face
	And endure its terrible heat
	And black radiance
	That is like the reverberating unseen rays of molten iron
	Which strik and burn the skin of those who would dare
	Gaze into the countenance of the idiot god
	Never does he recieve supplicants
	In his black halls of uncouth angles and stranges doors
	Nor does he ever hear prayers or answer them
	Endlessly he pipes
	And endlessly he devours his own substance
	For his hunger is insatiable
	As he consumes his own wastes after the customm of idiots
	As he creates
	So he destroys

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