1. |
Estranged
03:37
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ESTRANGED
Torn from the land of our ancestors,
Forced to flee from the face of death,
Strive for for control in the guise of jihad,
Devils of Jahanam.
Lost generations behind walls of pain,
Under the boot of your fucking Sharia,
Despisers of material reality,
Grasping for culture.
Estranged. Torn away.
Bearing the weight of shame.
Alienate and displace.
Force to retreat in regret.
Outpour of grief spilled onto the streets,
We’re made to watch the bloodshed from afar,
Frustration and guilt, spared from the suffering,
Artesh of justice burns strong.
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2. |
Seven Labours
01:47
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SEVEN LABOURS
Path of honour written by fate,
Shielded by divine forces of old,
Surrounded by demons,
A thousand eyes pierce armour and flesh.
Desert sun gleams upon blades of justice,
Waiting to strike the guardians of sun,
Trials of the champion,
Forged in resistance and pain.
A cycle of war,
Burned into the minds,
Of all the imprisoned,
Reborn in steel.
Crushed under the wheels of the chariot,
Spiritual war in the ranks of the immortals,
Slain by the hammer of God,
Through seven labours, and you’re just another.
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3. |
White Demon
03:14
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WHITE DEMON
Up on the high throne of decadence,
King of Mazandaran without a crown,
Div-e-Sepid and his hordes of chaos,
Ignorant to our hero’s revolt.
Cataphracts ride with impetuousness,
Craving battle with the forces of death
Arrows will block out the sun,
As the demon king takes his last fucking breath
Betarseed, Betarseed, mā hame bā ham hasteem,
Nowhere to hide from this reckoning,
Ministries crumble to dust,
Hang them high, hang from the bridges,
Council of rats drowned in their own blood,
The last words you hear will be ‘Azadi’
The white demon, hung from the bridges.
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4. |
Rostam's Mace
03:29
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ROSTAM’S MACE
As the two snakes encircle the sceptre,
Sands of time drain away like the tide,
Blood will spill from the heads of your viziers,
Leeches of Qom.
Boro Gomsho!
Locked in a war for the soul of Iran,
Ahura Mazda: bless the mace of the righteous,
Trampled under the red steed’s stride,
Plague on the land; you bring its demise.
Eternal war,
Marched to your grave,
Sons of Zahak,
Your final days
Your days are numbered, your lines start to break,
Shattered spears thrown to the ground,
Flag of betrayal burns in holy flame,
As Rostam’s mace swings your way.
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Quality Control HQ London, UK
A home for UKHC and friends. DIY. Only good looking releases. Accept no imitations.
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