Chalk Face
Enochian Crescent Lyrics


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A chalk face
Of a dead son of god
Reflects on a blank stare
Of his dead servants
Populating this deceived necropolis
That still thinks it lives

Let all sons
Of our inhumane father
Claim rights for a synthetic chalk face-on
As ancestors
Of the black art and worse
Give-aways for a swine head

No son of god has missed
A chance for earthly love
No son has ever missed a chance
For love with daughters of Eve
...or those of the first wife of Adam

A chalk face
Of a dead son of god
Blushed with pious for taste of blood
And sweat
And semen and passion
Behind the kiss of the one he adorned

If you'll be his servants
Then let us celebrate
The first and the only true
Christian marriage
Of a prophet and a prostitute

No son of god has missed
A chance for rebellion
No son has even missed a chance
For rising against his father

...and not refute the gospel of truth to hank
As reminded of when we are drunk
Of thick smell of love
Panting passages of arcane hours
In our high mass in the dark

And a choir of latex-nuns
Exalts to crescendo before
Languid embrace of dawning revelations

Three art race of QBL
And of angels fallen
And of witchery and sword




And of Tartarean abodes
Night, unknown, chaos

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Enochian Crescent's song Chalk Face seem to be a commentary on the concept of religiosity and how it can be more deceiving than enlightening. The first stanza features a motif of death and stagnation; a chalk face, representing the image of the dead son of god, looks upon the dead servants of the people that still think they are alive. The second stanza calls to all the sons of the inhumane father, presumably the devil, to claim their own rights to a synthetic chalk face. The song seems to be asserting that religion creates a false sense of entitlement and glory.


Line by Line Meaning

A chalk face
The image made of chalk,


Of a dead son of god
Of a dead deity believed to be a creator of the universe


Reflects on a blank stare
Is mirrored by a lifeless expression


Of his dead servants
Of his followers who have passed away


Populating this deceived necropolis
Inhabiting this place of the dead that has been misled


That still thinks it lives
That mistakenly believes it is alive


Let all sons
May all offspring


Of our inhumane father
Of our cruel god


Claim rights for a synthetic chalk face-on
Assert ownership of a fake chalk image


As ancestors
As predecessors


Of the black art and worse
Of dark magic and even worse things


Give-aways for a swine head
Gifts for those unworthy


No son of god has missed
Not one deity has failed


A chance for earthly love
An opportunity for love with mortals


No son has ever missed a chance
None of the deities have let an opportunity slip away


For love with daughters of Eve
To fall in love with women


...or those of the first wife of Adam
...or with Lilith, Adam's original partner according to certain folklore


A chalk face
The image made of chalk


Of a dead son of god
Of a deceased deity believed to be a creator of the universe


Blushed with pious for taste of blood
Flushed with religious conviction for the flavor of blood


And sweat
As well as perspiration


And semen and passion
As well as male essence and love


Behind the kiss of the one he adorned
Behind the embrace of the chosen one


If you'll be his servants
If you will be his followers


Then let us celebrate
Then let us enjoy


The first and the only true
The original and authentic


Christian marriage
Formal union according to the Christian ritual


Of a prophet and a prostitute
Between a seer and a harlot


No son of god has missed
No deity has failed


A chance for rebellion
An opportunity to revolt


No son has even missed a chance
None of the deities have failed to take the chance


For rising against his father
To rise up against their creator


...and not refute the gospel of truth to hank
...and not deny the message of truth to the uninitiated


As reminded of when we are drunk
As recalled by us when we onebriated


Of thick smell of love
Of the strong scent of romance


Panting passages of arcane hours
Labored moments of mystical times


In our high mass in the dark
During our concentrated exercise in the dark


And a choir of latex-nuns
And a group of rubber-garbed celibates


Exalts to crescendo before
Raises to climax before


Languid embrace of dawning revelations
Slow, relaxed hug of new understandings


Three art race of QBL
Three sets of teachings derived from the Qabalah


And of angels fallen
And of angels who have been cast out


And of witchery and sword
And of magic and violence


And of Tartarean abodes
And of unpleasant dwelling places


Night, unknown, chaos
Darkness, mystery, disarray




Contributed by Maya W. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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