R.O.D. lyrics

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