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Protest The Hero
Protest The Hero

Откуда Whitby, Ontario, Canada
Жанры Progressive Metal
Годы 1999—н.в.
Лейблы Vagrant Records
Сайт Website
Rody Walker
Tim Millar
Luke Hoskin
Arif Mirabdolbaghi
Moe Carlson

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Альбом Protest The Hero

Fortress (29.01.2008)
. . .

Enemies of Khanate strung on hooks like pigs to slaughter
Heads will roll
Heads will roll, throats will be slit
and blood will flow like springs of water
Heads will roll
To the River Red, across the ochre steppe
A thousand fathers killed,
a thousand virgin daughters spread with swords still wet,
with swords still wet with the blood of their dead
Nurjan is upon us, he kills in silence after prayers
Genghis Khan is upon us, he slays his betrayers
Thus still the fools of God will guard the city of our birth
Hold an ear to the ground
Hear the sound
Clamoring and horses stammer as their gallop meets the earth
Tomorrow they will find us
Hide the children free of sin
We will meet their blades by morning
Protected only by your skin
Tomorrow we will find them
Seek the youngest of their kin
And we will beat them with our fury
And we will crush them all like vermin, kill
And we will crush them all like vermin

. . .

Down the street half a block away
In a familiar place regular people
Agree with each other in smoke signals
(Down the street half a block away
In a familiar place regular people
Agree with each other)

Interprets the law as aging with it eyesight failing
The law is aging (oh yes it is)
Sitting across tables spending nights talking about other nights
Our eyes unclose like books we've read twice

So on the shelves lined with spines
The dust collects as scattered ash
From an urn unturned
Spilling over with someone regular
And other such regulars
Cry ghost and boast
Of the friend of a friend
Who saw a strange sight
Or heard a strange sound
LyricsWho now whispers tall tales of murder most foul

Down the street half a block away
In a familiar place regular people
Agree with each other in smoke signals
Brought together to burn the thing that brings them together

Interprets the law as aging with it eyesight failing
Interprets the law as aging with it eyesight failing

Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read

Somebody's somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
Or the monsters in her bed
Who hacked her into bloodmeat

. . .

Thus now he knelt before the ruins,
Cold of sweat and heat of flame,
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to its shame.
Those who plundered, pillaged, pilfered lives would now accept the blame.
He would find them all with a mighty vengeance paid for in their pain.

Shah - Jan, the king of kings,
Wore seven rings and sixty feathers plucked from sparrow’s wings.
Growing fat on the throne where he sat like a stone
As a man who has known no hunger or shown no mercy
In promises broke like a bone.

Dispersed about his people,
Rostam calls out for his equals in thirst to rise and cast curse,
Exact the worst revenge on enemies to hang from trees.

The royalty must die
Like common beggars and petty thieves.
Those who rule against us will murdered where they stand.
Let our arrows rain from the sky to drain the blood into the land.
If mortal stands before us,
Strike him down with sleight of hand.
And if heaven rides against us,
God himself then must be damned

. . .

Did you come here to kill or did you come here to die? Or did you really think that spaceships would descend from the sky?

Bending light and beaming forth across space-time to see who's scared in the reflection of the royal black gods. Just know it's not a meteor like our movies imply.

They're not the ones who've come to kill us, come to fill us full of lead. They're not the ones who hate us, and they are not the ones who mutilate our animals. I'll travel though stars; they’re not the ones who cause us harm.

We are still life and cold blooded (but feel the pain).

Hellbent on Heaven while our righteous men aren't stopping corpses, commotion, and pain, we are still life.

They're not the ones who cause us harm (we are) We are the future. (Did you come here to kill or did you come here to die?) We are still life and cold blood, and we feel the pain

Stopping corpses, commotion and pain; keep moving in about a future beyond the moon, to bring about another planet's doom, to discover peaceful life with a beating heart drawn to its tune. Unless my prayers are answered, our end is coming soon

. . .

As often as always
Evolution is crawling from the sea,
Alive with urgency like suicide, like suicide
Convinced the grass is greener on dry earth

The march of serrated utterance like a soft cough muffled murmur
Sneaking through the lecture hall.
The crawl across the island,
The sound of wave's embodied water sprouting legs as loud as a gallop,
Cuffing down on ground against the cries of gravity.

All the young people who took a leap without faith
Into a riverbed that drowns about as much as it saves.
All the young cowards acting out for the brave forever hurled
Into the waters of their indifferent graves.

Belly-up, half buried in the sand,
Extend a hand to the smallness of death.
Understand that only dying is this colossal,
Creation shedding skin to find a perfect equilibrium like fossils.
For a million years, raise your glass in cheers
We will never answer where we came from only how we got her

. . .

Split the sky asunder
A noble huntress of the clan
In your left hand raise a sword, in your right hand cast a spear
Summon all the things that bastards (hiding in the woodland)

Crack their skulls in the cauldron
For invading our front and,
She’ll stop the hammer fall
Just know this place could burn us all

We forge our weapons in the furnace
So our eyes like oak tree's stump

(Tonight) beg before me and I’ll heed your appeal
With your final words be grateful you die by Irish steel
Do not crawl before us, your fate has been revealed
The heavens would not desecrate their names with your admittance
Do not bleed before me, I will not heed your appeal
With your final words be grateful you die by Irish steel
Do not beg before me, your fate has been revealed
Do not crawl before me, I will not heed your appeal
Son of flesh
I cast you out into exile for reverence
Flidais rides again
Flidais rides again

She is the forest, she is the rain
She is the huntress, she is the..
(She) is the dusk and (she) is the dawn
(She) is the moon and (she) is the sun

See her bellow out
See her, see her bellow out in anger
See her raise the infant fawn
She is drawn by a God of sovereignty

(She is) here
(She is) gone
(She is) here
(She is) gone
She is gone

. . .

Endowed with the art of casting names upon its being
The humans claimed dominion over every living thing

Proud as a purpose they became to walk the earth
As they arraigned the common creatures
Caught within the corpus, cursed, conscious human brain

Every word that’s ever written will fall short of its intent
Even sung or spoke or screamed, they will betray what they have meant

They will betray what they have meant

Language is the heart’s lament
A weak attempt to circumvent the loneliness inherent
In the search for permanence

Like all the future ghosts who scratch their names in wet cement
Demeaning meaning as they shout out at the emptiness

Abstraction is the stake between the anima and animus
Deflesh the word as scourge of human destiny
Behold the world in other people, life is charity

. . .

Chews the fat with his creator
Over breakfast in the sunlight
Through when he says grace,
When he says grace, he feels enveloped like a shadow
There are evenings when this decimated world of movement, colour, form,
Is thin and getting thinner
When lights are dim and getting dimmer
when nights are grim and they're only getting,
Only getting grimmer

As they barter their boulders and martyr their soldiers,
Teach a man to tear her fucking head from her goddamn shoulders

Held into the sun by the threads of her hair,
They impart a secret hatred from their fathers to their heirs

Suppressed and unaddressed the simple fact remains unspoken,
In silence left unbroken, on a bed bound and gagged
With culture, language, myth and law: our Goddess gave birth to your God
From a wounded womb where her flesh scarred and raw
Our Goddess gave birth to your God

. . .

Take everything your parents taught you, throw it to the dogs
Its forgotten flesh of something dead its blood drips from your jaws.

Take everything your school has taught you, throw it to the dogs.
Its meat that dries in summer heat and reeks now of its rot.
It speaks now of the fate that we await, to be forgot.

Just as mountains live outside of rocks
And time itself outside of clocks.

We hope that life exists beyond our lonely bones in the pine box.
From the bottom of my heart, at the top of my lungs
From the corner of my eye at the tip of my tongue - its everywhere
Its everything, everyone. It's anywhere, it's anything, it's anyone

the neighbour saving face by saying grace today for yesterdays
behaviour, bound to tethers girls in leather unveil the true face
of his saviour.

Live to fuck, fuck til death
Drink to sorrow and regrets.

Remember that which love begets is irony that those who clasp their
Chests are lives as yet unfinished as they grasp their final breath

. . .

Oh God!

What they must have heard in the distance:

A wilderness of sound and movement repeating itself across
the narrows of mountainsides, the cries of creatures crashing
against cold rock, human voices heralding the hillside.

Their bellows bounding ripe with resonance
From here unimportant call received the all important answer.
Oh goddess who bore us what we must have done to have buried
your daughters and prayed for a son.

The wind and the rain spoke a language of wonder
To a species rising thickly to a dialogue with thunder
In the empty place between better and worse
Language unravels and irony hurts.

In the common place between hunger and thirst
The words that define us a blessing and curse
The words that confine the ideas traversed the ear
To hear the song without verse, the sound of the sound of the sound
Utter first, the burst into nothing so sudden and soft.

The silence inside you when the music has stopped.

. . .

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