Lyrics

Faceless father conquers the weak
Nameless brother mounting the meek

Bonded to the frame
The bed and her the same

The number of the feast is 23 at least
I've nothing left to fear of their abstract care

Shameless mother hushing true speech
Voiceless victim clutching the knife
Distressed debris leaving that life

The number of the feast is 23 at least
I've nothing left to fear of their abstract care