Drone Corpse Aviator

We have seen our enemy

In the retina on the hill we're made of

Peering through the many tortured minds of the imprisoned and the

Grim actions befallen unto them

We often become blinded

By the sheer eye wrenching

Defacing of the humans we look into

We have viewed remotely

Into the homes of every

Sycophantic birthing unit

They are regretless

And exempt of conscience

Performing tormenting

Repulsive procedures

Bereft of emotion

On all that remains of our youth

That sank from pride to dysentery

In the wake of the parasitic

Serpent hatching

With their hypnotic immunity

Execute the vile deed

Watch as they feed them

Hair, skin, teeth, and cartilage

Digging deeper

Now we view the buried dead

We shall crawl

Into the marrow of their corpses

Make them fly and navigate them

With our weave of blackened liquid

We will wake the resting rotted

We will clear and light the path

Of all that have arrived before us

Through the sirens of the drifted

Vacant dreaming and awaiting

That lay dormant in the earth

Drone Corpse Aviator

Drone Corpse Aviator

Drone Corpse Aviator

Drone Corpse Aviator

Within our weave

We hold a well of black liquid

And with it, we will wake the rotted

From their resting fields

With our path now lit, we can travel

To the aftermath of our captors entrance

Through the sirens of the drifted

That lay dreaming under the earth

Drone Corpse Aviator

We shall crawl

Into the marrow of their corpses

Make them fly and navigate them

Make them fly and navigate them

They will move and yell and fight again

But not from breathing

Not alive but ridden from their burrow

They will return

Taking to the air in droves of gliding carrion

Piloting the many flying

With the pull of tar in marrow

They will move and yell and fight again

But not from breathing

Not alive but ridden from the burrow

They will return

Lifted out of every monument

They put up in their honour

All the dead they buried

Now propelling in our flying pattern

They will move and yell and fight again

But not from breathing

Not alive but ridden from their burrow

They will return

Taking to the air in droves of gliding carrion

Piloting the many flying with the pull of tar in marrow

Shifting in formations

That are unknown to humans

We're blacking out the air

With decomposing gliders

We shall crawl

Into the marrow of their corpses

Make them fly and navigate them