Ghosts of the Charnel House - Primordial

Our knees were cracked and broken

Genuflect in dirt and broken glass

Grinds the teeth as black as the demons

Of the cloth that come at night

To rape our wretched flesh at the alter

The ghosts of the charnel house

Were born to deathless guilt

The ghosts of the charnel house

Were born to shameful night

Pale backs are ripe from the lash

Fingers worked to the bone

Scavengers of the cross

Flicker in perdition’s light

Rancid leather and rotten faith

Whelts young skin

Charnel fodder for an unmarked grave

In the house of the lord

The poor mouth speaks

Of begging bowl politics

It’s words cast long shadows

From the doorway of the charnel house

To every ploughed field

And rotten ear of corn

We are born of deathless guilt

And shameful night