Skull Candy

Skull Candy Lyrics [I. Invocation] From velvet voids the feedback crawls, a serpent choir in cathedral walls; He tunes the night with iron breath, spins phantoms on the spool of death. Hear! The earthen altar throbs and aches, as needle suns the pale world breaks. Do what thou wilt — the thunder sways, while cords entwine the lambent days. [Pre-Chant] Audi infernum! Vox Daemonis! (Listen, inferno! Voice of the Demon!) Spin the black aether, drown the dawn! [Chorus] The Devil wears headphones — crown of hiss and flame, conducting the ruin, naming us by name. A symphony of ruin in the sockets of the night, each whisper is a verdict; each pulse a sacrificial rite. Bow to the beat that binds the bone, bow to the bass, to the blood, to the throne! [Ritual Verse] He feeds on pulses, on stolen hymns, on under-tuned lullabies and theorems of sin. Little gods of glass and light, offering souls to the listening night. Buttons like runes, LEDs like stars, he maps our grief with binary scars. In the closed ear he plants the creed, a liturgy of want, a hunger freed. [Antiphon] Obsecro: let the headphones sing, let the skull become the offering. [Chorus] The Devil wears headphones — iron lungs of fate, he pilots our tremors, orchestrates our hate. Cacophony celestial, a dirge in every vein, the city sleeps, his frequencies remain. Bow to the beat that binds the bone, bow to the bass, to the blood, to the throne! [Interlude] Silence is sacrament; sound is sacrilege, we drink the scratch of vinyl like sacramental wine. [Breakdown] Click, hiss, the loop devours, tempo like tides over drowned towers. Grind the cymbals of conscience until the reason frays, let the headphones preach in apocalyptic waves. [Chorus] The Devil wears headphones — monarch of the hum, he crowns the unrepentant, he writes the requiem. A spiral of feedback, a cathedral of bone, we kneel to the rhythm, we answer with moan. Bow to the beat that binds the bone, bow to the bass, to the blood, to the throne! [Coda] When the last broadcast folds into the dust, and copper angels rust to ash and rust, you’ll hear the echo: a lullaby of cords, the Devil’s pulse still synced to mortal boards. Do what thou wilt — the final chord intones; the Devil wears headphones, and claims our bones. [Final Chorus] Audi infernum... audi me... audi the end.