The Banquet of Flies (120 Days of Sodom)

alternative metal, thrash metal, Middle Eastern folk

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[Intro]
[A single, clean guitar plays a fast, Armenian-influenced folk melody. It repeats twice, then is joined by bass and drums in a frantic, galloping rhythm.]
[Verse 1: Serj Tankian]
[Vocals are fast, rhythmic, almost a political speech]
The bureaucrat of flesh, a Bishop hiding in his gown
Preaching sanctity to children in a god-forsaken town!
He thought a cross of wood and gold would sanctify his sin
But the mirror showed the maggot that was living deep within!
His spirit broke, his body swung, a piñata for the rats!
[Verse 2: Daron Malakian]
[Vocals are higher-pitched, sneering, and aggressive]
The Magistrate of misery, he loved his precious rules
A petty tin-pot tyrant collecting broken tools!
We whispered truth into the ears of all his hungry slaves
Now his body feeds the flowers growing on their children's graves!
[Screamed:] ON THEIR GRAVES!
[Chorus: Serj & Daron harmonizing]
[Music shifts to a huge, heavy, anthemic riff]
A banquet of the flies for the undeserving kings!
The revolution's coming in the fury that she brings!
No justice from the heavens, no Prozac for the soul!
Just a visceral rebellion to make the bastards whole... AGAIN!
[Breakdown]
[Tempo drops to a heavy, sludgy, headbanging riff. Serj's vocals are a low, operatic growl.]
PULL! THE! SKIN!
FROM! THE! BONE!
LEAVE! THEM! ON!
THEIR! BROKEN! THRONE!
[Bridge: Serj Tankian]
[Music becomes a fast, spastic, almost polka-like rhythm. Vocals are spoken-word, manic, and theatrical.]
And the Duke, oh the Duke, a connoisseur of weeping!
While all the architects of taste were sleeping, he was creeping!
We strapped him to his favorite chair, a lovely rococo design
And performed a brand new opera, so exquisitely malign!
We rearranged his face to look more like his inner grace
A collage of all the parts he stole from this forsaken place!
The critics? Oh, the critics! They all said it was divine!
[Chorus: Serj & Daron harmonizing]
[Music shifts back to the huge, heavy, anthemic riff]
A banquet of the flies for the undeserving kings!
The revolution's coming in the fury that she brings!
No justice from the heavens, no Prozac for the soul!
Just a visceral rebellion to make the bastards whole... AGAIN!
[Outro]
[Music becomes extremely fast and chaotic. Daron screams "Liar!" "PIG!" "DIE!" repeatedly under Serj's operatic wailing.]
[Serj:] The President is waiting for the verdict of the meek!
The President is waiting for the peeling of his cheek!
The President is waiting! The President is waiting!
THE PRESIDENT IS WAAAAIIIIITIIIIIIIIING!
[The song ends abruptly with a final, chaotic crash of instruments.]

2612/7500

[Intro] [A single, clean guitar plays a fast, Armenian-influenced folk melody. It repeats twice, then is joined by bass and drums in a frantic, galloping rhythm.] [Verse 1: Serj Tankian] [Vocals are fast, rhythmic, almost a political speech] The bureaucrat of flesh, a Bishop hiding in his gown Preaching sanctity to children in a god-forsaken town! He thought a cross of wood and gold would sanctify his sin But the mirror showed the maggot that was living deep within! His spirit broke, his body swung, a piñata for the rats! [Verse 2: Daron Malakian] [Vocals are higher-pitched, sneering, and aggressive] The Magistrate of misery, he loved his precious rules A petty tin-pot tyrant collecting broken tools! We whispered truth into the ears of all his hungry slaves Now his body feeds the flowers growing on their children's graves! [Screamed:] ON THEIR GRAVES! [Chorus: Serj & Daron harmonizing] [Music shifts to a huge, heavy, anthemic riff] A banquet of the flies for the undeserving kings! The revolution's coming in the fury that she brings! No justice from the heavens, no Prozac for the soul! Just a visceral rebellion to make the bastards whole... AGAIN! [Breakdown] [Tempo drops to a heavy, sludgy, headbanging riff. Serj's vocals are a low, operatic growl.] PULL! THE! SKIN! FROM! THE! BONE! LEAVE! THEM! ON! THEIR! BROKEN! THRONE! [Bridge: Serj Tankian] [Music becomes a fast, spastic, almost polka-like rhythm. Vocals are spoken-word, manic, and theatrical.] And the Duke, oh the Duke, a connoisseur of weeping! While all the architects of taste were sleeping, he was creeping! We strapped him to his favorite chair, a lovely rococo design And performed a brand new opera, so exquisitely malign! We rearranged his face to look more like his inner grace A collage of all the parts he stole from this forsaken place! The critics? Oh, the critics! They all said it was divine! [Chorus: Serj & Daron harmonizing] [Music shifts back to the huge, heavy, anthemic riff] A banquet of the flies for the undeserving kings! The revolution's coming in the fury that she brings! No justice from the heavens, no Prozac for the soul! Just a visceral rebellion to make the bastards whole... AGAIN! [Outro] [Music becomes extremely fast and chaotic. Daron screams "Liar!" "PIG!" "DIE!" repeatedly under Serj's operatic wailing.] [Serj:] The President is waiting for the verdict of the meek! The President is waiting for the peeling of his cheek! The President is waiting! The President is waiting! THE PRESIDENT IS WAAAAIIIIITIIIIIIIIING! [The song ends abruptly with a final, chaotic crash of instruments.]

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