I Am Going to Start a Black Metal Band

Dark nordic haze;

Thar a hunched fellow on a hill

Swept in a swirl of snow

Bellowing out demonic black chords.

The distorted lords;

Corpse painted, shrieking raw tremolo

Cloaked in rags and shrouds

They play at pentagrams.

There, in the flaming nave

Crackling voltage and

Searing amplitude, thundering through

Burned out transistors

Billowing fumes of

Gain and treble,

A raw darkness; currents that smoke and hiss

Droning into the night.

I won’t be the murdering kind

No, not like them,

The church-flamers, the fascists;

Yes, pick up ye axe,

Plug in ye soul -

I am going to start a black metal band.