Year Of The Goat - Gula

In the vastness of the desert I find myself
Temped by a voice within
The drowning sound of flies running through my skin
A snarling rising from the ground
Is this an actual hunger or a craving that I feel?
The emptiness grows strong in me
All these stones may turn to bread
The grains of sand could turn into speed

A body to honor God
By making it a holy shrine
And put a knife to your throat
If you are ever given to
Gula

With greedy bites you gulp down the ambrosia
Truly it's the food of gods
A ferocious mouth of hunger opens like a void
No ashes, no reverence to God
When you face the final judgement, the people that you'll see
Raving like starving hogs
On their knees in excrements
Guarded by a three-headed dog

A body to honor of God
Or a temple made of dust
Put a knife to your throat
If you are ever given to

Have some more, take everything
Take everything
Eat and drink, 'cause tomorrow you'll die
No dead will rise

Put a knife to your throat
'Cause now you have been given to
Have some more, take everything
Take everything
Eat and drink, 'cause tomorrow you'll die
No dead will rise
Have some more, take everything (everything)
Take everything
Eat and drink, 'cause tomorrow you'll die
No dead will rise