O, this too solid flesh
Tainted with the odor of life
Unbearable to the pure soul
Would evaporate & end itself
Corpse-like filthy, vomited forth
Thrown far away disease & death in disgust
Behind secluded walls
Helpless to the carnivorous fever
As long as flesh clings to bones
Pulsing warm to storm
Apparitions irresistible
Flying serpents bursting to be touched
With the drum the right heel stamps
With the flame the left releases
Making bracelets of the living
Streaming long untended locks
Tasted, devoured
Tending to the rotten, gathering maggots
The Great Chief Death pronounced the curse
Washing and massaging the beauty in oil
The Lord Of The Dead pronounced the benediction
Massive, blackened riffs. Scorching vocals. Smart songwriting with nice atmospheric touches. The Howling Wind's "Vortex" offers a lot to love for fans of all things heavy. Tim Clark