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