Bolgia eight, the undead flames
That levitate
These floating wights, like fireflies
Souls trapped inside for bad advice
Through evil counsel - inspired lies
Caused great deceits to catalyze
Strategists Machiavel, unethical
They paid the price
In Bolgia Nine bodies divide
Insides incised for breaking ties
For causing schism through dissent
Eternally they're flayed alive
Iron spiders ripping breasts
Filleted flesh flies through the skies
Amputations, mutilations
Excoriated bodies writhe
Pounds of flesh and pints of blood
Pay for the wars they galvanized
Ruined corpses crawl the circuit
Until their bodies heal - revive
An endless cycle of ling chi
Skinned by the sword of Damocles
Whether sects or clans or kinsmen
Their rebellions had casualties
Red-handed sowers of discord
Here are reaped for eternity
What makes the difference between
A shit-stirrer and a revolutionary
The final ditch holds counterfeits
Imposters and alchemists
The most injurious deceits
Punished by affliction and disease
Alchemists pick scabs of leprosy
Imposters lose their identity
Running rabid and cannibalizing
While perjurers shake - constant fevering
And now we've finally reached
The central well within Malebolge
Where the trunks and heads of giants
Poke out the rim of the threshold
The Greek Titans standing guard
All but one with arms enchained
The upturned, open hand of Antaeus
The only passage to the final plane
Siskel - Fraud, Pt. 2 Lyrics
Siskel - Fraud, Pt. 2 Lyrics
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Bolgia eight, the undead flames
That levitate
These floating wights, like fireflies
Souls trapped inside for bad advice
Through evil counsel - inspired lies
Caused great deceits to catalyze
Strategists Machiavel, unethical
They paid the price
In Bolgia Nine bodies divide
Insides incised for breaking ties
For causing schism through dissent
Eternally they're flayed alive
Iron spiders ripping breasts
Filleted flesh flies through the skies
Amputations, mutilations
Excoriated bodies writhe
Pounds of flesh and pints of blood
Pay for the wars they galvanized
Ruined corpses crawl the circuit
Until their bodies heal - revive
An endless cycle of ling chi
Skinned by the sword of Damocles
Whether sects or clans or kinsmen
Their rebellions had casualties
Red-handed sowers of discord
Here are reaped for eternity
What makes the difference between
A shit-stirrer and a revolutionary
The final ditch holds counterfeits
Imposters and alchemists
The most injurious deceits
Punished by affliction and disease
Alchemists pick scabs of leprosy
Imposters lose their identity
Running rabid and cannibalizing
While perjurers shake - constant fevering
And now we've finally reached
The central well within Malebolge
Where the trunks and heads of giants
Poke out the rim of the threshold
The Greek Titans standing guard
All but one with arms enchained
The upturned, open hand of Antaeus
The only passage to the final plane
That levitate
These floating wights, like fireflies
Souls trapped inside for bad advice
Through evil counsel - inspired lies
Caused great deceits to catalyze
Strategists Machiavel, unethical
They paid the price
In Bolgia Nine bodies divide
Insides incised for breaking ties
For causing schism through dissent
Eternally they're flayed alive
Iron spiders ripping breasts
Filleted flesh flies through the skies
Amputations, mutilations
Excoriated bodies writhe
Pounds of flesh and pints of blood
Pay for the wars they galvanized
Ruined corpses crawl the circuit
Until their bodies heal - revive
An endless cycle of ling chi
Skinned by the sword of Damocles
Whether sects or clans or kinsmen
Their rebellions had casualties
Red-handed sowers of discord
Here are reaped for eternity
What makes the difference between
A shit-stirrer and a revolutionary
The final ditch holds counterfeits
Imposters and alchemists
The most injurious deceits
Punished by affliction and disease
Alchemists pick scabs of leprosy
Imposters lose their identity
Running rabid and cannibalizing
While perjurers shake - constant fevering
And now we've finally reached
The central well within Malebolge
Where the trunks and heads of giants
Poke out the rim of the threshold
The Greek Titans standing guard
All but one with arms enchained
The upturned, open hand of Antaeus
The only passage to the final plane
Writer: Mark Shaw
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid