R.O.D. - The Fall

It’s approaching

600 pounds gas and flesh

Robes in tatters

It’s approaching

Lips and tongue abhorrent

Flickering lexicon

Or a stray dog pack leader

Hide hide, all good people hang out for a result

Hide dive hide, reasonable people in silence do exult

Realm of dusk

The Northerns

Look at the North ones

Their brains are unhinged by the sun

Rare stone

Our (faeces/faces) are rare stone

It comes to take them

Move out the armies