Lord of the Red Sands!

Hallowed_Shrine

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Prompt / Lyrics

Angron!

Angron. - Angron.

[I] "What would you know of struggle, Perfect Son? When have you fought against the mutilation of your mind? When have you had to do anything more than tally compliances and polish your armour?"
[1] Born in the dust of Nuceria’s reach
A high-rider’s plaything, a lesson to teach
The wires go deep, they’re digging for gold
In the cortex of gods, where the fury takes hold!
Can you hear it? The ticking! The counting of lives!
We are the harvest of carving knives!
From the XIIth Legion, the War Hounds are gone
Now we eat worlds in the shadow of the sun!
[P] "The people of your world named you Great One. The people of mine called me Slave. Which one of us landed on a paradise of civilization to be raised by a foster father, Roboute? Which one of us was given armies to lead after training in the halls of the Macraggian high-riders? Which one of us inherited a strong, cultured kingdom? And which one of us had to rise up against a kingdom with nothing but a horde of starving slaves?"
[C] The Red Angel rises, he stands all alone! (BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!) A brotherhood broken by golden deceit! Left to die in the mountains, in bitter defeat! We are the Eaters! The Butcher’s own kin! (SKULLS FOR THE THRONE!)
Let the galaxy burn for the Emperor's sin!
[2] Look at the primarch, the Red Angel weeps
While the Ghost of Nuceria never quite sleeps!
He asked for a death with his brothers in arms
But the Tyrant of Terra ignored the alarms!
He snatched him away from the dirt and the gore
To lead a new legion to infinite war!
Now the Nails are the master, the rage is the key
In a universe screaming, only death sets us free!
[C] The Red Angel rises, he stands all alone! (BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!) A brotherhood broken by golden deceit! Left to die in the mountains, in bitter defeat! We are the Eaters! The Butcher’s own kin! (SKULLS FOR THE THRONE!)
Let the galaxy burn for the Emperor's sin!
[B] "Which one of us was a child enslaved on a world of monsters, with his brain cut up by carving knives? Listen to your blue-clad wretches yelling of courage and honour, courage and honour, courage and honour. Do you even know the meaning of those words? Courage is fighting the kingdom which enslaves you, no matter that their armies outnumber yours by ten-thousand to one."
[3] I see their faces in the sea of red, The only family I ever led! Abandoned on the mountain, left to the blade, While I was stolen, a debt never paid! Now I’m the tyrant, the high-rider’s fist, A daemon of slaughter in a crimson mist! No more a rebel, just a slave to the nail, In a galaxy of ghosts, I’m the one who will fail! (TEN THOUSAND. TO. ONE. - DIG THEM OUT. - EAT…THEIR… WORLDS!)
[O] "You know nothing of courage. Honour is resisting a tyrant when all others suckle and grow fat on the hypocrisy he feeds them. You know nothing of honour." - World Eater!