All rights to Suicide Silence. 
R.I.P Mitch Lucker. (Tanner Womack is the vocalist of this Demo.) 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/suicidesilence

Suicide Silence - Stand Strong (2003)

Get the Shot - Rotting Idols

As I Lay Dying - Elegy

The Black Dahlia Murder "Vlad, Son of the Dragon" from the album "Abysmal"

The Black Dahlia Murder "Vlad, Son of the Dragon"

The Black Dahlia Murder "Receipt" from the "Abysmal" album.

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The Black Dahlia Murder "Receipt"

Von Kopf bis Fuß LIVE (Remastered)

"The Architect of Flesh" - This track reveals the full extent of Crowe’s curse. Through the Codex Umbralis, his body becomes more than a vessel—it is remade as a living temple for the entity. Each scar, each wound, each murder was not random but part of a grand design: the construction of a gateway through flesh itself. The lyrics shift between Crowe’s horrified awareness and the entity’s triumphant proclamation, with Abberline beginning to realize that his partner’s body has been transformed into the ritual’s foundation. The tragedy deepens: Crowe is no longer simply possessed, but restructured, his humanity overwritten into architecture for something that wants to step fully into the world.

[Intro]
[CROWE]
Through time's deep cracks, the syllables creep,
Older than stars, in shadows they sleep.
Tongues forged in ash, etched deep in stone,
I form their shapes—but not alone.

[Verse 1]
[CROWE]
My veins they ink the script unseen,
My skin’s the parchment where gods convene.
Dreams carve diagrams in red,
Ancient glyphs where blood has bled.

I thought the words could give me sight,
Instead they claimed my shape outright.
The marrow twists, the tendons bind,
A temple raised from flesh and mind.

[Pre-Chorus]
[CROWE]
I thought I searched, but I was found,
A vessel forged, a soul now bound.
The Codex spoke, the lines were sown—
It carved a frame that’s not my own.

[Chorus]
[CROWE]
The architect of flesh claims and binds,
My blood the blueprint, my bones the lines.
The architect of flesh, design complete,
Through me it builds what can’t be beat.

[ENTITY]
Flesh is mine… design complete…

[Post-Chorus]
[CROWE]
Carved in marrow… etched in breath…
Life remade… through living death.

[Verse 2]
[CROWE]
Its script carved deep in bone and vein,
An edifice built through sacred pain.
My heart tolls like a chapel’s bell,
My skull the doorway, my ribs the shell.

It spoke in tongues my lips betrayed,
Each vow a stone the temple laid.
I was the seeker, now I’m clay—
Shaped by hands that won’t decay.

[Pre-Chorus]
[CROWE]
I thought I searched, but I was found,
A vessel forged, a soul now bound.
The Codex claimed, the patterns pressed—
It made my body manifest.

[Chorus (Variation)]
[CROWE]
The architect of flesh, no will, no choice,
My frame the altar, my throat its voice.
The architect of flesh, design fulfilled,
The door now opens, the blood is spilled.

[ENTITY]
Blood is spilled! Flesh is mine!

[Bridge]
[ABBERLINE] “What curse is this?”
[ENTITY] (Your partner’s skin)

[ABBERLINE] “He bleeds, he breaks—”
[ENTITY] (He builds, he makes.)

[ABBERLINE] “This path consumes!”
[ENTITY] (Through him I bloom!)

[ABBERLINE] “His soul, undone—”
[ENTITY] (The work begun!)

[Breakdown
[ENTITY]
Not man, not god—but what survives,
A temple built from living lives.
No silence left, no voice, no rest—
Only the Codex, carved in flesh.

[Final Chorus]
[CROWE]
The architect of flesh—I can’t resist,
Each breath a stone, each wound its fist.
The architect of flesh—design aligned,
Through me it builds, through me confined.

[ENTITY]
Through you confined… design aligned!

[Extended Outro]
[CROWE]
These hands were mine… (no longer mine…)
This breath was mine… (lost to design…)
This life was mine… (crossed the line…)
The temple stands… and I’m confined.

[ENTITY]
“Zorath’nim… Mor’thak keleth…”

Heartbeat slows, silence.


The Architect of Flesh

Everything breaks.
Light becomes shadow, life becomes death, angels become beasts.
The fragile beauty of truth splinters under its own weight, and in every fragment a new world is born—sharp, merciless, gleaming.

Kingdom of Glass is a descent into that shattering.
Where faith turns to hunger, where desire corrodes into madness, where silence itself begins to scream. It is the reflection that cuts when you dare to look too long, the mirror that does not return your face but something older, stranger, hungrier.

Here, there are no heroes—only ruins. No salvation—only the seduction of falling deeper. Yet in the fractures, in the brokenness, there lies a beauty too dangerous to ignore. A beauty that whispers: break, and be remade.

Get the Shot - Rotting Idols

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