Lyrics of R.o.d.

It's approaching
600 pounds gas and flesh
Robes in tatters
It's approaching
Lips and tongue abhorrent
Flickering lexicon
Or a stray dog pack leader

Hide hide, all good people hang out for a result
Hide dive hide, reasonable people in silence do exult
Realm of dusk

The northerns
Look at the north ones
Their brains are unhinged by the sun

Rare stone
Our (faeces/faces) are rare stone
It comes to take them
Move out the armies