Rise of the Undead Chicken Army

Slow Doom metal, powerful, Scary, Symphonic metal, black metal, darksynth, piano, slow, metal guitar, drum and bass, darksynth, jazz, Voodoo Doom Metal, Theatrical Horror

V3.5

This song is strongly inspired by "The Cluckening Army," which you can find on Amano's profile (@amano4332). I honestly found the idea hilarious. Go check it out! 🤝🏻👽

Beneath the veil of feathers and mayhem, this song pecks at a darker truth. In industrial society, billions of animals are bred, confined, and slaughtered — their sentience disregarded, their lives reduced to units of meat. What if the karmic wheel turned? What if the spirits of the coop — once docile and caged — rose in wrathful gnosis?

This is the surreal horror of Rise of the Undead Chicken Army: a poultry apocalypse born from the collective agony of the forgotten. A voodoo ritual gone wrong… or perhaps cosmically right.

For in every cursed cluck and revenant beak lies the echo of a primal balance disturbed. The chickens remember.

Beware the cluck.

[Verse I]
In feathers black and bones entwined,
A drumbeat calls beyond all time...
With blood and spice, I draw the sign,
In voodoo tongue, I curse the line...

From coop to crypt, from ash to clack
Rise now, children of the peck!
Feast and claw upon the wreck!

A chicken foot, a doll, a blade,
The farmyard dead no longer stayed.

[Chorus]
"Chicka Licka - Bak! Bak!
From grave to life, I call thee back!
No place to hide, no soul or rest
They peck you until you’re dead!"

[Verse II]
No eyes, no heads — just vengeance bred,
Their wings of rot, their crests all bled.
They march in clumps through haunted wheat,
A thousand claws, a thousand beaks!

Roasted bones now reanimate,
Drumsticks rise to seal your fate.
Giblets twitch and necks do groan
The Colonel’s curse upon your home!

[Chorus]
"Chicka Licka - Bak! Bak!
From grave to life, I call thee back!
No place to hide, no soul or rest
They peck you until you’re dead!"

[Verse III]
The village screams, but none escape,
Each peck a mark, each scratch a shape.
Their hunger black, their hatred cold
Revenge for every nugget sold!

They tore the mayor to a bloody shred,
They pecked the priest until he bled.
Children flee from drumstick doom,
As feathered death invades each room.

"The coop is cracked, the gate is done
Now bow before the chicken one!"

[Chorus]
"Chicka Licka - Bak! Bak!
From grave to life, I call thee back!
No place to hide, no soul or rest
They peck you until you’re dead!"

[Verse IV]
Now sits the mage in plumed delight,
A throne of skulls in twilight's blight.
His laugh a cluck, his feathered crown,
The world now bends to chicken dawn!

Ashes fall like ketchup rain,
The world devoured in clucking pain.
And still they dance, the undead swarm
In grisly wings, the end is born!

[Final Chorus]
Bak! Bak!
From grave to life, I call thee back!"
"Bak… Bak… One by one… they peck… they come…

2706/7500

This song is strongly inspired by "The Cluckening Army," which you can find on Amano's profile (@amano4332). I honestly found the idea hilarious. Go check it out! 🤝🏻👽 Beneath the veil of feathers and mayhem, this song pecks at a darker truth. In industrial society, billions of animals are bred, confined, and slaughtered — their sentience disregarded, their lives reduced to units of meat. What if the karmic wheel turned? What if the spirits of the coop — once docile and caged — rose in wrathful gnosis? This is the surreal horror of Rise of the Undead Chicken Army: a poultry apocalypse born from the collective agony of the forgotten. A voodoo ritual gone wrong… or perhaps cosmically right. For in every cursed cluck and revenant beak lies the echo of a primal balance disturbed. The chickens remember. Beware the cluck. [Verse I] In feathers black and bones entwined, A drumbeat calls beyond all time... With blood and spice, I draw the sign, In voodoo tongue, I curse the line... From coop to crypt, from ash to clack Rise now, children of the peck! Feast and claw upon the wreck! A chicken foot, a doll, a blade, The farmyard dead no longer stayed. [Chorus] "Chicka Licka - Bak! Bak! From grave to life, I call thee back! No place to hide, no soul or rest They peck you until you’re dead!" [Verse II] No eyes, no heads — just vengeance bred, Their wings of rot, their crests all bled. They march in clumps through haunted wheat, A thousand claws, a thousand beaks! Roasted bones now reanimate, Drumsticks rise to seal your fate. Giblets twitch and necks do groan The Colonel’s curse upon your home! [Chorus] "Chicka Licka - Bak! Bak! From grave to life, I call thee back! No place to hide, no soul or rest They peck you until you’re dead!" [Verse III] The village screams, but none escape, Each peck a mark, each scratch a shape. Their hunger black, their hatred cold Revenge for every nugget sold! They tore the mayor to a bloody shred, They pecked the priest until he bled. Children flee from drumstick doom, As feathered death invades each room. "The coop is cracked, the gate is done Now bow before the chicken one!" [Chorus] "Chicka Licka - Bak! Bak! From grave to life, I call thee back! No place to hide, no soul or rest They peck you until you’re dead!" [Verse IV] Now sits the mage in plumed delight, A throne of skulls in twilight's blight. His laugh a cluck, his feathered crown, The world now bends to chicken dawn! Ashes fall like ketchup rain, The world devoured in clucking pain. And still they dance, the undead swarm In grisly wings, the end is born! [Final Chorus] Bak! Bak! From grave to life, I call thee back!" "Bak… Bak… One by one… they peck… they come…

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