LOADING DATA
A Forest of Stars
Members | |
---|---|
Current | |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass (2007-2011), Vocals, Guitars (2007-2011, 2013-present) |
Member(bands): Hvíldarlauss Dauðr, The Water Witch, Electric Mud Generator, Tangaroa, Introrectalgestation (live) | |
The Gentleman | Drums (2007-2008), Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion (2007-present) |
Member(bands): Arkanar, The Water Witch, Electric Mud Generator | |
Mister Curse | Vocals (2007-present) |
Member(bands): The Water Witch | |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute (2007-present) |
Member(bands): The Water Witch, My Dying Bride | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion (2009-present) |
Member(bands): Deus Vermin, Heathen Deity, Hryre, Narayana, Roots Entwined, Valaraukar (live), Diascorium, Acolyte (live) | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass (2011-present) |
Member(bands): Ache, Hryre, Roots Entwined, Mountains Crave | |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars (2014-present) |
Member(bands): Hryre (live), Mountains Crave | |
Past | |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Guitars, Vocals (2011-2014) |
Member(bands): Electric Mud Generator, Duncan Evans | |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars, Vocals (backing) (2011-2013) |
Current (Live) | |
Jonathan "The Projectionist" Longley | Lighting, Projections (2011-present) |
Past (Live) | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass (2009-2011) |
Member(bands): Ache, Hryre, Roots Entwined, Mountains Crave | |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars (2009-2011) |
# | Discography | Type | Year | |
---|---|---|---|---|
1 | The Corpse of Rebirth | Full-length | 2008 | Show album |
2 | Opportunistic Thieves of Spring | Full-length | 2010 | Show album |
3 | A Shadowplay for Yesterdays | Full-length | 2012 | Show album |
4 | Beware the Sword You Cannot See | Full-length | 2015 | Show album |
5 | Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes | Full-length | 2018 | Show album |
The Corpse of Rebirth
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
January 22nd, 2008 | Independent | CD | CD-R, Limited edition | |
March 26th, 2008 | Inquisitoris ex Mundus Novus Productions | iexmn022 | Cassette | Limited edition |
September 1st, 2008 | Transcendental Creations | TC005 | CD | Limited edition, Digipak |
September 1st, 2008 | Transcendental Creations | TC005 | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition |
May 20th, 2011 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 045 | CD | Digibook |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion, Drums |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering (drums, guitars), Producer |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Engineering (except drums, guitars) |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design, Logo |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | God | 16:27 | Show lyrics |
Silence shattered like ice, incipit rage in myriad voices of the wind All light now absent as the banshees howl No solace in the maelstrom. -Even the sun’s afraid to rise around here- It’s ice cold as far as the eye can see Relentless winter restraining the new mourning rays. Frozen in thought whilst seeking oblivion. Got scalded by summer, given the cold shoulder by winter We’d watched the world go by... Shifting slowly from here to there, going in the direction of everywhere, but arriving neither here nor there Now there’s a taste of blood in all the throats around here. Asked for a shot of winter in my holocaust, it caught my throat afire on the way down Wrought iron gateways pleading, under-used ovens awaiting further problems Countless eyes closing, rhyme boring reason. It wasn’t very sunny that weekend, sitting and watching this world stumbling to its end. -All rain all everywhere- Shining wet skies’ tears. -Sun hides in fear just around the corner from here- Just around the corner, see? Over there! God’s... eyes... closed. |
|||
2. | Female | 13:57 | Show lyrics |
The moon pushed the sun down the spiral-staircase of time Bright neck broken, twisted beyond repair So now there’s only darkness standing there Arms outstretched/predatory parasite Vacant light From the tunnel of night. It’s colder here since the war, all colours took on a shade of grey The streams have run slower since you went away Even the summer is slouching now Sun not waxing, but waning - walking disappointedly away Moon with no hope of saving the day -It’s time I remembered that I have forgotten- Rainy season beyond sense and reason Endless sheets of glass Streets awash with horror Bullets in the back of summer Filthy water everywhere Not saved by incantations Summer sun always gone Left my smile all alone back there Forced to simply sit and stare At nothing Nothing Summer’s always gone Temperance overrule Temper under ruled Time - Oh, she’s short Wait - Oh, she’s long Where she went I’ll never know All I know Is she’s gone Gone? |
|||
3. | Male | 13:04 | Show lyrics |
Rough pencil scrawls of what could have been... Bright flowers there were I somehow couldn’t catch their scent it seemed -colours weren’t quite right...? A fumbled tickle of summer sandblasted by the jackbooted night Sun went down/moon rose We basked in the whitewash somewhere near opaque silence -just as ghosts in a storm of black noise... Cold fixed stars shining all over the tight tarpaulin of unsun void only. Separation -all stars screaming ...needle holes in heaven... Another nameless soul on the blacklist Snorted the sun, saved the moon for morning Now awaiting further gathering of the clouds Bathed in grey stroke black -no way out it keeps coming back Noise preventing rebirth We bathe in shreds of whispering glass Moon fell/sun cried Kept the dragon down, chasing the moon now With my teeth? And claws! Down dragon/moon chased (chaste) Teeth wide open Claws at your pretty throat Afell asun, arose athunder! I am an e-flat mage Chemical curses on the rampage Head full of daggers For the backs of random strangers I suggest you keep an eye or three Upon your enemies... my dear! Accidental summer caught mid coitus Smiling winter zips the [ ] up ...Saunters aways with a whistle Whilst the good weather bleeds rain, torn asunder ...Tears for the cold dried only by their owner Nowhere left now, death of our only summer |
|||
4. | Earth and Matter | 09:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Microcosm | 10:27 | Show lyrics |
Nothing now but cages and railings All topped with barbs Even the weather’s apologetic Sees no rhyme or reason All exits barred now Love left lonely, gave way to the grave Left my smile somewhere on the journey between that and loss The walls of another god’s house encrusted in mould Sewage poured from ceiling, damp liquefied floor A building devoid of use, now A weather beaten grave Untended -no longer remembered- By Those Who Left The queue For mourning Merrily kicking the skulls of ex-deities Through the ex-halo hoops of toes up ex-angels More trophy heads for my walls No more crying about heaven or a lack of it No more to be found wanting Hoping for a safety net My lake of passion still edged with rust Her waters fouled by the corpse of lust So, I dug the last few feet of the six myself All too eager to taste the dust I laughed as I threw the first handful of earth I smiled as I watched the topsoil spread Autumn she sprang over summer into winter All was lost. All is lost. So much more snow than sunbeams these days What once was? What once was. The cold she marched through the rain Past the corpse of rebirth blacked out the sun’s last refrain -endless cycle ended |
|||
01:03:35 |
Opportunistic Thieves of Spring
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
June 1st, 2010 | Transcendental Creations | TC012 | CD | Limited edition, Digipak |
February 17th, 2011 | Transcendental Creations | TC012V | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, Grey marbled vinyl |
May 20th, 2011 | Independent | Digital | Bandcamp | |
May 20th, 2011 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 044 | CD + DVD | Reissue, Digipak |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Guest/Session | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Guimbarde |
Miss Charly Hellier | Vocals (backing), Accordion |
Mr Robert Hobson | Guitars (acoustic), Vocals (backing) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design |
Robert Hobson | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Sorrow’s Impetus | 13:01 | Show lyrics |
Awoke from typhlotic silence. Awoke from mind inearth. Conscious enveloping, sick feat over. To the shock of the white-coated, I returned undefeated from whence others fear to tread. Time to fling another barrage at desideratum... Last rites retracted. So I’m trying to remember where I was when I lost sight of the flickering sun. Perhaps to recall, the beginning of the downfall of it all... the rainbow drain-bowed. Ember’s colour became as grey, on the day when perspectives lengthened. When what had seemed before to be so far away became to me so shockingly, starkly, clear. Face down in ash, choking in frenzy (soon to become a meal for the many). As smiling eyes to glittering ice worm voices rising through all this putrefaction. Awaiting loss in less than resignation, to finish the start a tempting frustration. Fully expecting subterfuge, in a place of no refuge. No last chances for this sleighted hand. Away, away lying through the last stand dead heat, soul on ice; all wishes wasted... ...dreaming pure horror. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie Painting out cracked windows of the soul / in misty midnight black Serrated blades of silver hatred / ragged cuts pissing blood Torn through gossamer thin desire / all hope and fear feeding funeral pyres Whatever passed for colour / has now passed on. Spider amongst the bar flies, Sinking sorrows as oceans rise, and fallen angels fall further! |
|||
2. | Raven’s Eye View | 09:23 | Show lyrics |
I won’t just steal your thunder, I’ll have your lightning as well. As crushing blow of hammer, annihilating those grating steeple bells. As hairline cracks to fragments! Standing up on high, spraying golden rain down on to the waiting faces of you pious, worthless swine... Hear my sermon splashing down all around you, children. We would not even waste one single match on you trough-fed, hook-lined, soul-sunk bottom-feeders. Never mind chapter and so-called verse. I shall instead content myself with loosing my bowels upon you to drown your herd in a flurry of slurry. Soul starved bodies crushed, throats stuffed with my falling angels. Yours, in mocking memory! After all, you are only worthwhile as fertilizer... To the gallows with your lack of humour! You, who do not play well with words! Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Upon Eternity’s Anvil! |
|||
3. | Summertide’s Approach | 13:27 | Show lyrics |
As water rushes, as sewer grates over-faced. All bloated corpse, all ever-was. As love becomes hated, as light shades to grey. Swelled to envelop all ever-nothing. All stagnation becomes all too apparent. As horizon forced below. While smiling frown, while laughing weep. As mould grows thickly, silently all around. As scream becomes whimper, under weight of shroud befouled. All clamour now silence / nature leagues below. Let’s see you fight with lungs full of stone! Hope all forgotten, beauty as beast. All breath to fire / All sustenance to filth, All flesh to rot / All temples to rubble, All toil turns to trouble / All to nothing, ALL HORROR! ALL HORROR! Faceless, mindless, souls sold all the way out. Heartless, hopeless, ensnared in useless sorrows... What’s the use of all light shining with idiot eyes screwed tight shut? Profane it all, just tell me, what’s the use? If you’re going to use those stupid hands to build an ugly pyre, and truss me up there by mob-hoofed force, I’ll be wanting more than just a penny. More than just a miserable fucking penny... ...A miserable pox-ridden penny for the guy. I could hurl a thousand curses, and not one could gift you fair judgement. So crack out those ten-a-penny lighters, and spark up your miserable flames... |
|||
4. | Thunder’s Cannonade | 08:01 | Show lyrics |
Our sky, she’s full of lights, glinting through all that dark, uncaring. The Rats on the Moon are shielding their eyes, against the creeping, the crawling... All that so-called useless DNA. Sharp colours teased to a gleam... Doesn’t matter Refracted inaction... ...remains inaction. This cursed recursive loop ∞ pure comedy. Soon ye shall be razed in flame. HA! How does that fire feel climbing up your back? Still grabbing with those thieving little hands? So we strive to lift up our heads against the nowhere, before you blot out Mother’s summersphere. One fist may resolve nothing, but many fists shall knock you flat. One projection may be simple refraction, but many, well, they equal reaction. Those ears of yours just picked up a sneaky peal of thunder. Are you ready for the lightning to strike? Are you? |
|||
5. | Starfire’s Memory | 11:50 | Show lyrics |
Dusk, she is the calming influence, making ends meet in a place of concentric corners. She cleanses these gutters with her utmost purity. Onrushing dark leaves your false light lonely. Her frozen kiss devoid of apology. Setting cleansing fires to guide the rest of us through the night by. When we once again arrive in struggling shine of dawn, memories of her ice shall gird us on our way... For all the friends we left behind, for lost summers and eyes gone blind. For the kiss of blade on desperate flesh, for light shrouded only in funeral dress. For all tears mingled with bad blood, awaiting sentencing for hearts taken, but not understood. For all mislaid foundation stones, for all smiles cracked wide open. For all beauty turned to ash, for all flames in deluge doused. For all fear all encompassing. One for sorrow. Two to destroy. |
|||
6. | Delay’s Progression | 16:28 | Show lyrics |
We watched rain hammer the good weather, and waited for the end to start. Sparks flew from chains dragged in servitude, watching colours fail and brightness turn to programmed dusk. While tears burnt tracks in cold stone, all future to disappear beneath layers of sorrow. Stone-clad solitude / rain lashed epitaph. All earthly shells divide. Divide by zero... We ignored the men stamping out the future, and smiled at the cathode rays. Drizzle crawled over cracked portals to nowhere. Afraid to face the grey infiltrating our bored darkness. While rainbows feigned ignorance, all past lost in a deluge of tedium. Media driven prison / scavenger crawl. All flesh corrupt. Rot to multiply... Colour washes out given time. Time awaited ticks away. Your lives lived in stolen fictions, words of men your protocol. We shall re-tune your noise, into a steady blast. Beating out an old tattoo, upon Eternity’s Anvil. All Father, hold fast for me! Delaying the inevitable as seasons become as one. All encompassing winter of servitude. All is as nothing, all has nothing to become. She cried, she cried, as all summer fell. Took the Final by the scruff of its dirty neck, and flung it far into forever! Waiting for delay to progress lost its appeal. Shifting our weight against this seasonless somewhere, embroiled in a twisting universe simulated and unreal. The final curtain fell, and fell. And fell. Leaving cleansing, crushing darkness to fend for herself... Leached of colour, evolution gone full circle from tail, to head, to putrefaction. Starting to End all over again, the stars cry for no-one. As shades of grey become colour, we bow our heads for the passing of summer. Into darkness now, to await Sol’s triumphant return. Firebrands rise! Backlit bloodlines obscure and clot! |
|||
01:12:10 |
A Shadowplay for Yesterdays
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
July 20th, 2012 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 050-2 | CD | |
July 20th, 2012 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 050 | CD | Digipak |
July 20th, 2012 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 050 LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition |
July 20th, 2012 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 050 LU | 2CD + DVD | Limited edition |
November 11th, 2014 | Independent | Digital | Bandcamp |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Piano, Percussion, Programming, Synthesizer, Tambourine, Vibraphone, Gong |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Vocals, Guitars, Programming |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars |
Guest/Session | |
Philip Wilcox | Accordion |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Karolina Szymkiewicz | Artwork |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering |
The Gentleman | Engineering |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering |
Grum | Layout, Design |
The Projectionist | Photography |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Directionless Resurrectionist | 03:13 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute, One Miss Crow, who, by force of a certain stranger, had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will. Resulting from this invasion came, an aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name, A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature; to be expelled from the womb in late November. A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow. From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow. He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent, a resident of fantasy, living a life of lament. He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend. Yet his friends were to call him Carrion, the friends inside his head... |
|||
2. | Prey Tell of the Church Fate | 07:27 | Show lyrics |
So we forge onward through lonely valleys of pious pretense. No healthy prophets encountered outside these steely inquisitor’s eyes. No men of any monotone god we could stand proud beside. They and their gilt-riddled baubles cast onto the blazing temple pyres, holy whore houses proudly reduced to ashes of sweetest desecration. Soporific spirits quaffed from dusty, sightless skulls. Strong-heart would not entertain their malady. Weak of will tangled in leprosy. Spiritual sickness babbling incessantly. Babbling Babylon put to the torch. Pinched faces staring through funereal fog, felt flame broiled crook’d hands a’grasp. Ground them to fine dust, snorted them deep. Left coated in confusion, with my lack of sleep. You that seek to encode reality, to defraud sanity - Be damned! You that seek to incarcerate spirit, to calcify astral eyes - Be damned! Be mindful that mind is not you. Be mindful that you are not mind. Be mindful that heart knows how this goes. As real as Azrael? Don’t mind - never mind. Don’t mind - never mind. |
|||
3. | A Prophet for a Pound of Flesh | 10:11 | Show lyrics |
Ugly Christs peer through nailed spaces, flesh ripened on idealist meat hooks. Con-gregation staring in pious devotion, ravenous spirit starved faces, famished minds consuming works of friction, symbols of submission choking scrawny necks. We count spent prophets into filthy begging bowls. Conflagration of the body - see? Do you really see? To kneel lost in venereal veneration, to love their god served rare, savouring their saviour, on their hands and knees. Nowhere to go from here. Golden wine proffered by filthy hosts, micturation as benediction. Washing down the failure, praying for something stronger to take the taste away. Sorry sun god facsimile, not so convincing in the cold light of day. - Jerusalem consumed - Salvation in flash fried defecation, sustaining the soulless to bleat another day. Half baked men of soiled cloth, scream tales of avarice and sloth. Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, laughing cackle their names. Slave religion of the pitiful, lost, choking songs of sorrow and loss, Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, a nesting amongst the graves. |
|||
4. | The Blight of God’s Acre | 06:09 | Show lyrics |
He’s a seaside side-show freak armed with the tools of the trade, standing in shadow by cemetery gates. The revenant tenants of this tenement yard, raise two fingers to the fates. No solace to be found in their foetid tombs, he at leisure to violate those catacomb wombs. Plots twist with hosts yet unwilling. Last sods of earth clawed away, he knows they know what he knows. Polite enough to knock upon the lid of each box, to await their invitation before being so bold, cracked heart stutters in hollow chest so cold. So, sunk deep in festering flesh, their baubles stripped at leisure, Guiltless here, without compassion. Taking pleasure in their corruption. It all gets worse when he finds a fresh one, to be carted off as contraband for the medical profession. So, nefarious urges sated, pockets a-brimming with shining trinkets, he plays at brother Magpie’s games. Heart a flutter of oily black. Leaning back against a monument, heedless of inscription, a stolen cigarette fumbled from a hidden poacher’s pocket. He may yet take a moment to ponder, upon the marble town of Yonder. And maybe just a trice to wonder, why her bone orchard saplings never say a word. And only come out to play, when he requests admission, then assuming rite of passage, in decayed passage ways. So he loads his barrow with the fruits of God’s acre, and all away upon his toes he goes, to shower his bone sore friends in their ivory sewers with gifts all rent asunder. But all willing, unresisting. Spoiled fruits of plunder. |
|||
5. | Man’s Laughter | 03:00 | Show lyrics |
(I don’t want to be left behind here...) | |||
6. | The Underside of Eden | 08:14 | Show lyrics |
There is a fear here. Azrael has a finger on my pulse. His infinity is not so far removed, from the Metatrons’ babbling insanities. Music of the Spheres bouncing, as infinite echoes bickering in this rubber tomb. Whom God helps? None but itself. So if God is death, death is god, yes? There is a fear here. Azrael has a’whispered in my ear. His infinity is not seeking to improve, on the Metatrons’ gabbled profanities. Music of the Spheres receding, as infinite sorrows in this indefinite pause of doom. Whom God helps? None but itself. Signs on this bone-sown road show naught but portents. The angry dead feign smiles as they point the way. Through nothing but rocks just quietly spinning, around lights a’gaining critical mass. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires. |
|||
7. | Gatherer of the Pure | 08:20 | Show lyrics |
He’s a man of the world, but his is a small world, being a world whirled and whipped inside a filth caked skull. All a dalliance in delusion, all dreamed down in narcotic seclusion, he peeps all askance through all and sundry; three dimension unreality his fourth dimension play-day. All eternity a rainy Sunday. He, a builder of worlds in dreams. He, a destroyer of worlds in dreams. Feculent plots / hatch / fester / fry. Subsistence burnt black, effulguent brain pan besmirched. Labours of love ladled into ravenous toilet bowl of life. All lost souls to feat upon fresh hot meal of voided bowel. He, a leacher of colour. He, a void in sanity. A poisoner of the well, instiller of winter’s gray flavour. A spasmed spatter of the obvious, a-soiling gleaming uncertainty. On a lonely wander through twisting streets of Yonder, his one good eye spying, prying, a shadow play for yesterdays. All tomorrows, all yesterdays today, Carrion Crow, pinch-faced proprietor of this sorry sideshow. Roll up, roll up! Crack cranks his codeine calliope, all is vibrant colour without his vermined bone box. All within, bleak nothing - all without to pay homage, at his insistence. Cosmic keys broken in twisting locks of lost infinities. His worlds all a-fire now, a Lucifer turning in listless circles, before landing in the dry hay of thoughts half-remembered. Evensong their last song. Pray for the prey! Sing for your supper! Funeral pyres for one and all today. As hand of God to give, as hand of God to take away. |
|||
8. | Left Behind as Static | 06:43 | Show lyrics |
This life is but an echo of a lost broadcast, our voices and our loves, just as crackles in static. I don’t want to be left behind here; when all my others have become as music... |
|||
9. | Corvus Corona (Part 1) | 03:15 | Show lyrics |
So, he’s hurrying demons from their seats around the circle, hastening to complete that ritual before fraught return of day. All this haste has crowded his cranium, tenanted now by poison voices, relocated revenants roar. White noise blasted black, never again to sleep, silence a distant memory, a mutiny for sanity. |
|||
10. | Corvus Corona (Part 2) | 06:13 | Show lyrics |
He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, a vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - mental ventilation won’t stifle their cries, his futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. [Abyss stares right through him.] Crow’s nest crowded with cackling crew, all staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, a-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. |
|||
01:02:45 |
Beware the Sword You Cannot See
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
February 27th, 2015 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 058 | CD | Digipak |
February 27th, 2015 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 058 LU | 2CD | Boxed set, Digipak, Limited edition |
February 27th, 2015 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 058 LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition |
February 27th, 2015 | Prophecy Productions | Digital |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Guitars |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Violin, Flute |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Producer, Engineering |
The Gentleman | Engineering (additional) |
Mr Robert Hobson | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
Mr Alex CF | Artwork |
Grum | Layout, Design |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Drawing Down the Rain | 09:31 | Show lyrics |
I can hear them ranting. Like a choir of angels, those cunts. Not singing nor dancing here; All eyes down for the casting. Spell trough scraped dry. Practising our sincerest sorrows; All full faced to the grind of stone. The drag of that inert through toil of chained wrought sinew. Ragged faces turned up to the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Drawing down the rain. Drawing down. All our ears are open / all our eyes are smiling Gracelessly receiving empty threats of heaven. As grist to and from these dark Satanic mills. A barren wasteland dreamt through streets of prescription mist. There is no attenuating this. No attenuating this. Holes in the heart of this city. Holes. Drawing down the rain. Heaven calling; calling through sewer-gratings. |
|||
2. | Hive Mindless | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. WITCH! Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to! Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens Raise a glass to the face of the past He who Dares, well he doesn’t always win. Crescendo or something to usher the past in. All a’jolt to the march half thought; sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught. All a’limbs a’roll, a’howl; roll these bones down, funerary style. All who wonder. All a’twitch. Ride the dreaded cliché switch. We belong dead. Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. Gather round, gather round, gasp the dust from my bones, snort your derision, dance the jitter dance encrusted with bugs. Listening in to your silence, distorting dial-tone / white noise waiting list. Rolling these bones against the door to halt the grating whistling of the wind. Grating whistling of the wind. |
|||
3. | A Blaze of Hammers | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Fuck you and the worms you rode in on. This double vision is dividing all thought. If this cortex is remotely cerebral, I’ll eat the mind from under your hat. Once in separation, all eyes all over the place. These place. These place. These place. Never quite sure whether I fear to tread. Or just quite where to tread. There is no product that can shine this condition; though the colour running through these streets is a shite to behold I’ll tell you. Ride the worms with me. If all is soil of creation and all our every particle, all intermingled is but a happy dust storm, waiting to disappear up a willing god’s nose - then where should the faithful stand? I suppose it’s irrelevant to a grain of sand. How are beings of pure sound to retune their nervous wreckage A golden ratio of broken radios / twists, ticks and twitches Into the frequency that tunes us all? Universal note, no, no - ground black. Distortion / Spirit contortion. Attenuator twisted hard right. Spit-balled through the night. All spirit full volume. Silence sold out to the man, man. In flux with transcendence. To rise above material putrescence? A blaze of hammers from the skies Race your corpse and aim heart high. Ride the worms with me. |
|||
4. | Virtus Sola Invicta | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Some of my favourite messiahs are dead. You may perhaps be nervous that the endings are wearing thin. So much grist for so many mills. So little point in taking offence. I’ve rolled with all the punches, and not even come up drunk. Danced around the guiding lights, got perhaps a little lost in the dazzle of lamps. Riding the head wind through Shangri-la, HA! Aghast in Agharta, a shambolic frolic in Shamballah. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. The accused are great in number, though if you’d kind enough to line them up, I could find it in me to fire the shots. Temples holed by misplaced homily. Nails all lined up to support heads lording over spikes of infamy. Your alter-ego can dig the pit. Then, once it’s lined with silent bones, we can stir the ghosts around. Perhaps take their powder as salve. Though it’ll perish your thoughts, I’ll tell you. Curiosity pushed you in, face first on top of all the others. So let’s roll the old worm ball down another cerebral hill, Bone over wire / racing the funeral pyre. All wild eyed, world weary. Twisted trees tearing the heart out of Eden. Final resting places soiled as if on queue by those dragging their mean feet, enduring the wait before you. Lightning breaks against the cortex. Rolled into the hole to taste the old face down. A twelve foot round-trip to your discredit. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. Down drains world-weary. |
|||
5. | Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs | 07:18 | Show lyrics |
Face down in the dust of their blasted utopia razors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lines eyes brimming with chemical repulse nostrils crusted with manifold millennia of dried up mortification ...of spiritual fabrication. inhaling the future, new orifices torn for those sexless angels. Strength of Will hammered flat by biological circumstance cells forming the biggest cell of all; body of death, true burden. My opiate naïve autumn putting a gleam to your sycophant summer like so much make believe Throw in your hands for the abyssal disco. All the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holes. All’s about to snap / spring has sprung on the christ trap. In fact, we’ll do worse than put a match to your faces. We’ll have your writhing, you cunts. Do you hear? All you monotheists born from the dust of deserts. Myth piled upon myth / spiritual plague pit. Seething maggot balls / fuel for future tombs Twisting mass a’roil with turning worms. Keep your maggots away from my soul. I’m willing to risk an aneurysm if you’ll just shut up and wait in line. Just impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farce; Glance around for the shroud. How’s your fitting? Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Down amongst the dead. All our graves walked all over. |
|||
6. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 1: Mindslide) | 02:21 | Show lyrics |
Fear - here again, now I know - far away All that this was - not at peace. Watch the dawn, all is grey. Images gone - here again; Now I know - far away. All of this was; not at peace. Watched the dawn; all is grey. The image is gone. Not at peace - not me. Bitter end. Not peace; descend; is gone. I know. Once again. Adrift in mould. |
|||
7. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 2: Have You Got a Light, Boy?) | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Are you a little lost, robot? To terminate? Stay resident? To dance drawn down with the shades whilst suffocating the dawn? He said ’Let there be light’. Oh, and there WAS light. ’Let there be light’, he said. And oh, how we laughed. |
|||
8. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 3: Perdurabo) | 03:20 | Show lyrics |
When you breathe me / can you release me From this death infested maze of cold? One eye open; nine days hung against nine nights. One eye open / one eye dark. I will endure. All father. Freight of the universe eye please guide me. Nine days to hang against the dark here. Spilled glistening across the gaoled way. The new way. Crutches raised against the face of fear. Can you see through the fast approaching dawn? Find a way to beat the universal chessboard you miserable pawn? Royal blew it. Face down amongst it all / scraped from the boot of old king cold just so much detritus for nowhere. I am not the way. Not the truth nor the light. Caught up in the same barbs, we are. No chemical solutions. Building rainbow bridges / pain railed against the dark. Old world, same disorder. |
|||
9. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 4: An Automaton Adrift) | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
Birthed across nowhere to ride the moon through phases. Fazed in phases rolling nervous / lunar tick patchwork cut and paste parchments to feed faith’s guttering furnace. A cracked clock face nervously ticking away the night. Carbon back to carbon back to repetition upon repetition Repeat. After me. Are you a little lost, robot? take my hand now, let us remain astray. No more invisible chains for this wolf, I can tell you. Howling with the moon whilst riding its decline. Waning not waxing, as ever. Have you a penny to gird the carny man wasted among your secrets? Tiring out cliché upon secret? My hands are tied here; but the one mind is held by no head. Heart leading that blind down bone-raw pathways. Once we’ve devoured the sun and all is said and done, no more paths to navigate; silence our cell mate riding the whirling serpent across bleak skylines; Watching as the final worm turns and turns and turns ...turns and turns. There was light. |
|||
10. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 5: Lowly Worm) | 02:12 | Show lyrics |
Children of the moon, sky high against the day. A script half-written won’t remind. Rainbows jostled, skylines torn. Witches burn beneath us. So polish up your best shoes / walk in line beside sorrow - supplication lost behind. Hitching our throats like tin cans behind this universal hearse. Back against the wall. Rictus grin must bear it. To take the pain and gatecrash my own wake. To ride them all through the black time, Jormungandr. To stare unblinking through hollow face of Death. Whirling worlds, nucleus sun to disappear down frozen gullet of Fenris wolf. Hammer waits to fall. |
|||
11. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 6: Let There Be No Light) | 05:14 | Show lyrics |
Smashed across the windscreen of the sky / that’s all we’ve ever been Lost amongst the fading stars / that’s all we’ve ever been Stood aghast as all the light blinks out / that’s all we’ve ever been Just dragging hidden chains of silence / all that’s ever been. |
|||
59:18 |
Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
September 28th, 2018 | Prophecy Productions | Digital | ||
September 28th, 2018 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 075 | CD | Digisleeve |
September 28th, 2018 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 075 LU | 2CD | Limited edition, Boxed set |
September 28th, 2018 | Lupus Lounge | WOLF 075 LP, WOLF 075 LPT | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition |
September 28th, 2018 | Prophecy Productions | Digital |
Members | |
---|---|
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass, Vocals, Guitars |
The Gentleman | Drums, Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Persistence Is All | 01:41 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Precipice Pirouette | 10:19 | Show lyrics |
It’s death worship, all of it. Your gods wheeling above; spiralling down into the pit of pathetic carrion you call life. Admonishing the vultures to tear away your fears with the promise of a better death. You are already rotting. Every one of you. Nothing but slurry clogging the gutters of decent folk who can’t be reassured by empty platitudes of a clean sky. This is all rot. And oh, how we dance and pirouette amongst it all. Wouldn’t dream of feigning smiles whilst carrying your dead weight through life’s circus. A fête worse than death. So the carrion birds will feign whispers in raucous, howling tones as they build worthless futures amongst these bones... If this is human nature, concrete it over. And have done. Just have done. I like to play in open graves. The crawling things raise their fists and howl. I find that the soil clogs my throat in just such a way / as to drag the vowels through a twist of ruptured bowel; to rise, then decay, then away. Consonant cosmonauts choking on delay. The vultures have it right, sailing in under cover of night. Or staring you straight out in glare of day. They’ll have your eyes away so as you don’t need to blink the tears past. One foot wrong versus this precipice - you’re at least six feet down. Can you wiggle your toes? Let’s fucking go. The all-consuming boogie of nucleus versus the rest of it. If the weather balloons we’re all fucked. Never was much one for recall. Cells is cells is cells is cells. We could idle here whilst I rhyme that with Hel, but I’m sure we’ve all got shapes to throw. Let us stumble through the opening lines. Let us dance for the sake of the fact that once we can’t we’ll all be damned well wish we had. I’m still toying with all the gods of men. I don’t let them push me around. We’ve been around and around and around. Awaiting our chance to populate holes in the ground. |
|||
3. | Tombward Bound | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
Losing night in a race to hate morning when a lonely child loses it to the moon now we’re all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise I have been forever building pyres in my mind. Gathering fallen limbs of masters past ’til mind’s eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root. I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night. The never ending frost plumed night. I shall raise nought but sparks against the coal shrine pitch, but as we gather here against the end, those sparks will grid our honour. Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again. Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night. All coiled as serpents gathering to strike at the light. One last dance amongst the embers. To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come. For this blood, the end of the line. Would you hear me? Carrion, wanderer. Echoing chamber of void. So it’s an endless funeral, or so it would seem. It’s all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping. Oh the fucking weeping. I could almost cry. All the mourners and their mournings; all black veils and emotion unveiled. Shut up and get in the ground. The worms aren’t complaining - they’ll make a hearty meal of yours. ...and the rest of you, I’m sure. Get in the fucking ground. I’ll take up a shovel and hazard a grin. If you don’t yet know the drill, well i’ll fill you in. It’s a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go. Misplaced apology nailed to contradiction - I’m not worshiping that! A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit’s just not level. Always angling towards Hell. Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall. Dancing with the Devil whilst throwing money to the spirit lenders. Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition. You can dance around my tombstone all you like but I’ll be grabbing your fucking ankle as and when I please. I may not be the lord of the dance you ridiculous cunts, but I’ll have my tuppence worth, don’t you worry. One for each eye if you please. |
|||
4. | Premature Invocation | 07:31 | Show lyrics |
Cleaved of hoof and shorn of mane You can keep your shrines, no matter shape or size There’s nothing here for me I’ll happily quaff all your spirits Bleed your coffins dry Used my nine lives across nine days / nine nights Now I just wait for the fires Reduce me back to ashes Our magic circles don’t align Too much static in our tragedy Too much standing still Put out to dry, fell off heaven’s window sill Broke every bone as I tripped through hell Silent fractures in reality I’ll be laughing while you cry, nostrils crystalline at the end of the line Game over for all time Show me your compassion I’ll give you contempt Open those hearts to me I piss on them I’ve had all the gods on my waiting list All too human They can’t see me, I’m never here I’ll nail any apologist to any passing tree No joy here Just this hammer This hammer This ashtray earth the fully realised product of so-called human evolution Vultures voicing complaint at the state of the carrion Sunlight filtered through a mire of thought grime A peek into the void to remind all is nothing All is nothing Nothing is all Same old clichés; same pitiful joke You want a punchline? If the sky should crash upon us in a shower of sparks, our shadows shall be thrown everywhere Up the walls, across the concrete Bathing tortured glass ceilings in spastic ichor Throwing shapes we never dreamt of, cramped up in the drains; sense of purpose lost in the run-offs Mingled with just so much effluent in the language of the sewers Bone and synapse just so much slush Sluiced by the eternal juicer Armageddon dancing on top of it all Azrael creaming off shots of just so much human slurry Bloody Mary, bloody father, bloody son With just a hint of bone for crunch Sitting amongst the coroners in a round tomb is not so possible when everything is flat The earth is flat But growing slightly fat on the cooling coagula of mankind’s last fart |
|||
5. | Children of the Night Soil | 06:39 | Show lyrics |
They’re crawling all over my mind Sunrise They’re crawling all out of my mind Sunrise There’s only so much advantage for the taking I’ve been buried here for years For I am dripping with stars Once golden shower of sparks pouring in and out; Shattering every dancing synapse Infiltrating the bored holes in my skull I just need a little nail to alleviate the pressure If only they’d oblige me Sunrise? Not-so-super-nova Do let me know when it’s all over I just can’t take the joke It went over my head It went through my head Once, twice, thrice, sunrise! But it would not take my thoughts away They couldn’t wash my brain; it crackled, yeah, with all that static Syrup of thoughts of malaise Had to settle for being picked clean by vaudeville vultures in the final laundrette of the soul Didn’t want the ticket out of here Couldn’t see the fucking point in running Gunning for the six foot hole Forever chasing tales only to bury a hammer in the shattered beauty of their lies It’s all untruth dancing behind the eyes I could feel them all jostling against my retina I tried to blink them all away They are going nowhere They form a thick string of drool consuming my everything They hermetically seal my tomb My eyes my tomb My skull my tomb Roll this curse away Only way out is putrefaction Then I can run away with myself Gelatinously As my old friend gravity dictates I can go any way I please... To run through the runnels... Just as long as it’s down Coagulating, south bound Far from the sun |
|||
6. | Taken by the Sea | 08:07 | Show lyrics |
I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I can’t change that day I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I couldn’t make you wake And I couldn’t make you wake I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name Now you’re not on this earthly plane I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name But now that would be in vain All that you thought you could be... I let you fall... away |
|||
7. | Scripturally Transmitted Disease | 10:59 | Show lyrics |
I’ve never been a pillar of society; Quiet the opposite in fact A plyer of insults; A place marker on the path of least resistance; Nothing more A face in a crowd, but a crowd behind Bedlam’s bars Providing a barbed laugh for the wealthy; A grinning, dry target for their rigidity Happily stuck in the throats of an angry mob stretched beyond repair by production line proclivity I am as steadfast refusal I’ve shown no interest and I’ve reaped little that I’ve sewn A world of cloned mechanists has left me unwaveringly organic; Perhaps food for thought or just food for the worms I stand as a final insult to the easily offended; All words out of turn to kindle their burning world If for one moment I thought I felt a twinge of guilt I would put it down to angry muscles shifting their weight against all the irrelevance I will stand as grave marker in resolute denial of the state of your two thousand years of treading water; So dig a good deep hole for Abraham and all his insipid godlets Whatever name it goes by, it’s all the same crumpled at the grave-side Abrahamic iterations all divide by zero Cartoon Lucifer presiding I lost my shadow amongst the marionettes; Soul chord measured found wanting Probably too long, frayed and / or split to dance with the more standard corpses in this world of shit I sold my spirit; Might even have quaffed it blind without realising Any port in a storm, they say Oh, so they say Heart removed as part of some half-arsed morning ritual, piss-begotten solitude sold out at the drop of a gaping fish-mouthed hat Filed away amongst the other stolen myths; The lore of these folks is nought but a long string of syphilitic spit Scripturally transmitted disease, if you will In fact, no - I insist So make a monolith of me, but plant me facing sunset; Back turned to the broken day Leave me here watching the darkness I have no time of day I have no time for day Don’t come looking for me I’m long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice I’ve danced away, died away; Don’t come looking for me Long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice |
|||
8. | Decomposing Deity Dance Hall | 08:57 | Show lyrics |
I find my mind wandering aimless Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves A mouth like a storm drain; Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn; Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams The colour here is nondescript; Leached of sense and purpose Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent The body’s in the back A lifetime on your back Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing More than happy to embrace the grave We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing They’re all gathered, shattered craniums draining; Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms; Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall It’s a stateless carrion nosedive All just a race to nature’s basement I really dig graves |
|||
01:04:06 |
The Corpse of Rebirth
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion, Drums |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering (drums, guitars), Producer |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Engineering (except drums, guitars) |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design, Logo |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | God | 16:27 | Show lyrics |
Silence shattered like ice, incipit rage in myriad voices of the wind All light now absent as the banshees howl No solace in the maelstrom. -Even the sun’s afraid to rise around here- It’s ice cold as far as the eye can see Relentless winter restraining the new mourning rays. Frozen in thought whilst seeking oblivion. Got scalded by summer, given the cold shoulder by winter We’d watched the world go by... Shifting slowly from here to there, going in the direction of everywhere, but arriving neither here nor there Now there’s a taste of blood in all the throats around here. Asked for a shot of winter in my holocaust, it caught my throat afire on the way down Wrought iron gateways pleading, under-used ovens awaiting further problems Countless eyes closing, rhyme boring reason. It wasn’t very sunny that weekend, sitting and watching this world stumbling to its end. -All rain all everywhere- Shining wet skies’ tears. -Sun hides in fear just around the corner from here- Just around the corner, see? Over there! God’s... eyes... closed. |
|||
2. | Female | 13:57 | Show lyrics |
The moon pushed the sun down the spiral-staircase of time Bright neck broken, twisted beyond repair So now there’s only darkness standing there Arms outstretched/predatory parasite Vacant light From the tunnel of night. It’s colder here since the war, all colours took on a shade of grey The streams have run slower since you went away Even the summer is slouching now Sun not waxing, but waning - walking disappointedly away Moon with no hope of saving the day -It’s time I remembered that I have forgotten- Rainy season beyond sense and reason Endless sheets of glass Streets awash with horror Bullets in the back of summer Filthy water everywhere Not saved by incantations Summer sun always gone Left my smile all alone back there Forced to simply sit and stare At nothing Nothing Summer’s always gone Temperance overrule Temper under ruled Time - Oh, she’s short Wait - Oh, she’s long Where she went I’ll never know All I know Is she’s gone Gone? |
|||
3. | Male | 13:04 | Show lyrics |
Rough pencil scrawls of what could have been... Bright flowers there were I somehow couldn’t catch their scent it seemed -colours weren’t quite right...? A fumbled tickle of summer sandblasted by the jackbooted night Sun went down/moon rose We basked in the whitewash somewhere near opaque silence -just as ghosts in a storm of black noise... Cold fixed stars shining all over the tight tarpaulin of unsun void only. Separation -all stars screaming ...needle holes in heaven... Another nameless soul on the blacklist Snorted the sun, saved the moon for morning Now awaiting further gathering of the clouds Bathed in grey stroke black -no way out it keeps coming back Noise preventing rebirth We bathe in shreds of whispering glass Moon fell/sun cried Kept the dragon down, chasing the moon now With my teeth? And claws! Down dragon/moon chased (chaste) Teeth wide open Claws at your pretty throat Afell asun, arose athunder! I am an e-flat mage Chemical curses on the rampage Head full of daggers For the backs of random strangers I suggest you keep an eye or three Upon your enemies... my dear! Accidental summer caught mid coitus Smiling winter zips the [ ] up ...Saunters aways with a whistle Whilst the good weather bleeds rain, torn asunder ...Tears for the cold dried only by their owner Nowhere left now, death of our only summer |
|||
4. | Earth and Matter | 09:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Microcosm | 10:27 | Show lyrics |
Nothing now but cages and railings All topped with barbs Even the weather’s apologetic Sees no rhyme or reason All exits barred now Love left lonely, gave way to the grave Left my smile somewhere on the journey between that and loss The walls of another god’s house encrusted in mould Sewage poured from ceiling, damp liquefied floor A building devoid of use, now A weather beaten grave Untended -no longer remembered- By Those Who Left The queue For mourning Merrily kicking the skulls of ex-deities Through the ex-halo hoops of toes up ex-angels More trophy heads for my walls No more crying about heaven or a lack of it No more to be found wanting Hoping for a safety net My lake of passion still edged with rust Her waters fouled by the corpse of lust So, I dug the last few feet of the six myself All too eager to taste the dust I laughed as I threw the first handful of earth I smiled as I watched the topsoil spread Autumn she sprang over summer into winter All was lost. All is lost. So much more snow than sunbeams these days What once was? What once was. The cold she marched through the rain Past the corpse of rebirth blacked out the sun’s last refrain -endless cycle ended |
|||
01:03:35 |
The Corpse of Rebirth
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion, Drums |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering (drums, guitars), Producer |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Engineering (except drums, guitars) |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design, Logo |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Single-sided | |||
1. | God | 16:27 | Show lyrics |
Silence shattered like ice, incipit rage in myriad voices of the wind All light now absent as the banshees howl No solace in the maelstrom. -Even the sun’s afraid to rise around here- It’s ice cold as far as the eye can see Relentless winter restraining the new mourning rays. Frozen in thought whilst seeking oblivion. Got scalded by summer, given the cold shoulder by winter We’d watched the world go by... Shifting slowly from here to there, going in the direction of everywhere, but arriving neither here nor there Now there’s a taste of blood in all the throats around here. Asked for a shot of winter in my holocaust, it caught my throat afire on the way down Wrought iron gateways pleading, under-used ovens awaiting further problems Countless eyes closing, rhyme boring reason. It wasn’t very sunny that weekend, sitting and watching this world stumbling to its end. -All rain all everywhere- Shining wet skies’ tears. -Sun hides in fear just around the corner from here- Just around the corner, see? Over there! God’s... eyes... closed. |
|||
2. | Female | 13:57 | Show lyrics |
The moon pushed the sun down the spiral-staircase of time Bright neck broken, twisted beyond repair So now there’s only darkness standing there Arms outstretched/predatory parasite Vacant light From the tunnel of night. It’s colder here since the war, all colours took on a shade of grey The streams have run slower since you went away Even the summer is slouching now Sun not waxing, but waning - walking disappointedly away Moon with no hope of saving the day -It’s time I remembered that I have forgotten- Rainy season beyond sense and reason Endless sheets of glass Streets awash with horror Bullets in the back of summer Filthy water everywhere Not saved by incantations Summer sun always gone Left my smile all alone back there Forced to simply sit and stare At nothing Nothing Summer’s always gone Temperance overrule Temper under ruled Time - Oh, she’s short Wait - Oh, she’s long Where she went I’ll never know All I know Is she’s gone Gone? |
|||
3. | Male | 13:04 | Show lyrics |
Rough pencil scrawls of what could have been... Bright flowers there were I somehow couldn’t catch their scent it seemed -colours weren’t quite right...? A fumbled tickle of summer sandblasted by the jackbooted night Sun went down/moon rose We basked in the whitewash somewhere near opaque silence -just as ghosts in a storm of black noise... Cold fixed stars shining all over the tight tarpaulin of unsun void only. Separation -all stars screaming ...needle holes in heaven... Another nameless soul on the blacklist Snorted the sun, saved the moon for morning Now awaiting further gathering of the clouds Bathed in grey stroke black -no way out it keeps coming back Noise preventing rebirth We bathe in shreds of whispering glass Moon fell/sun cried Kept the dragon down, chasing the moon now With my teeth? And claws! Down dragon/moon chased (chaste) Teeth wide open Claws at your pretty throat Afell asun, arose athunder! I am an e-flat mage Chemical curses on the rampage Head full of daggers For the backs of random strangers I suggest you keep an eye or three Upon your enemies... my dear! Accidental summer caught mid coitus Smiling winter zips the [ ] up ...Saunters aways with a whistle Whilst the good weather bleeds rain, torn asunder ...Tears for the cold dried only by their owner Nowhere left now, death of our only summer |
|||
4. | Earth and Matter | 09:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Microcosm | 10:27 | Show lyrics |
Nothing now but cages and railings All topped with barbs Even the weather’s apologetic Sees no rhyme or reason All exits barred now Love left lonely, gave way to the grave Left my smile somewhere on the journey between that and loss The walls of another god’s house encrusted in mould Sewage poured from ceiling, damp liquefied floor A building devoid of use, now A weather beaten grave Untended -no longer remembered- By Those Who Left The queue For mourning Merrily kicking the skulls of ex-deities Through the ex-halo hoops of toes up ex-angels More trophy heads for my walls No more crying about heaven or a lack of it No more to be found wanting Hoping for a safety net My lake of passion still edged with rust Her waters fouled by the corpse of lust So, I dug the last few feet of the six myself All too eager to taste the dust I laughed as I threw the first handful of earth I smiled as I watched the topsoil spread Autumn she sprang over summer into winter All was lost. All is lost. So much more snow than sunbeams these days What once was? What once was. The cold she marched through the rain Past the corpse of rebirth blacked out the sun’s last refrain -endless cycle ended |
|||
01:03:35 |
The Corpse of Rebirth
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion, Drums |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering (drums, guitars), Producer |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Engineering (except drums, guitars) |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design, Logo |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | God | 16:27 | Show lyrics |
Silence shattered like ice, incipit rage in myriad voices of the wind All light now absent as the banshees howl No solace in the maelstrom. -Even the sun’s afraid to rise around here- It’s ice cold as far as the eye can see Relentless winter restraining the new mourning rays. Frozen in thought whilst seeking oblivion. Got scalded by summer, given the cold shoulder by winter We’d watched the world go by... Shifting slowly from here to there, going in the direction of everywhere, but arriving neither here nor there Now there’s a taste of blood in all the throats around here. Asked for a shot of winter in my holocaust, it caught my throat afire on the way down Wrought iron gateways pleading, under-used ovens awaiting further problems Countless eyes closing, rhyme boring reason. It wasn’t very sunny that weekend, sitting and watching this world stumbling to its end. -All rain all everywhere- Shining wet skies’ tears. -Sun hides in fear just around the corner from here- Just around the corner, see? Over there! God’s... eyes... closed. |
|||
2. | Female | 13:57 | Show lyrics |
The moon pushed the sun down the spiral-staircase of time Bright neck broken, twisted beyond repair So now there’s only darkness standing there Arms outstretched/predatory parasite Vacant light From the tunnel of night. It’s colder here since the war, all colours took on a shade of grey The streams have run slower since you went away Even the summer is slouching now Sun not waxing, but waning - walking disappointedly away Moon with no hope of saving the day -It’s time I remembered that I have forgotten- Rainy season beyond sense and reason Endless sheets of glass Streets awash with horror Bullets in the back of summer Filthy water everywhere Not saved by incantations Summer sun always gone Left my smile all alone back there Forced to simply sit and stare At nothing Nothing Summer’s always gone Temperance overrule Temper under ruled Time - Oh, she’s short Wait - Oh, she’s long Where she went I’ll never know All I know Is she’s gone Gone? |
|||
3. | Male | 13:04 | Show lyrics |
Rough pencil scrawls of what could have been... Bright flowers there were I somehow couldn’t catch their scent it seemed -colours weren’t quite right...? A fumbled tickle of summer sandblasted by the jackbooted night Sun went down/moon rose We basked in the whitewash somewhere near opaque silence -just as ghosts in a storm of black noise... Cold fixed stars shining all over the tight tarpaulin of unsun void only. Separation -all stars screaming ...needle holes in heaven... Another nameless soul on the blacklist Snorted the sun, saved the moon for morning Now awaiting further gathering of the clouds Bathed in grey stroke black -no way out it keeps coming back Noise preventing rebirth We bathe in shreds of whispering glass Moon fell/sun cried Kept the dragon down, chasing the moon now With my teeth? And claws! Down dragon/moon chased (chaste) Teeth wide open Claws at your pretty throat Afell asun, arose athunder! I am an e-flat mage Chemical curses on the rampage Head full of daggers For the backs of random strangers I suggest you keep an eye or three Upon your enemies... my dear! Accidental summer caught mid coitus Smiling winter zips the [ ] up ...Saunters aways with a whistle Whilst the good weather bleeds rain, torn asunder ...Tears for the cold dried only by their owner Nowhere left now, death of our only summer |
|||
4. | Earth and Matter | 09:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Microcosm | 10:27 | Show lyrics |
Nothing now but cages and railings All topped with barbs Even the weather’s apologetic Sees no rhyme or reason All exits barred now Love left lonely, gave way to the grave Left my smile somewhere on the journey between that and loss The walls of another god’s house encrusted in mould Sewage poured from ceiling, damp liquefied floor A building devoid of use, now A weather beaten grave Untended -no longer remembered- By Those Who Left The queue For mourning Merrily kicking the skulls of ex-deities Through the ex-halo hoops of toes up ex-angels More trophy heads for my walls No more crying about heaven or a lack of it No more to be found wanting Hoping for a safety net My lake of passion still edged with rust Her waters fouled by the corpse of lust So, I dug the last few feet of the six myself All too eager to taste the dust I laughed as I threw the first handful of earth I smiled as I watched the topsoil spread Autumn she sprang over summer into winter All was lost. All is lost. So much more snow than sunbeams these days What once was? What once was. The cold she marched through the rain Past the corpse of rebirth blacked out the sun’s last refrain -endless cycle ended |
|||
01:03:35 |
The Corpse of Rebirth
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion, Drums |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering (drums, guitars), Producer |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Engineering (except drums, guitars) |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design, Logo |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | God | 16:27 | Show lyrics |
Silence shattered like ice, incipit rage in myriad voices of the wind All light now absent as the banshees howl No solace in the maelstrom. -Even the sun’s afraid to rise around here- It’s ice cold as far as the eye can see Relentless winter restraining the new mourning rays. Frozen in thought whilst seeking oblivion. Got scalded by summer, given the cold shoulder by winter We’d watched the world go by... Shifting slowly from here to there, going in the direction of everywhere, but arriving neither here nor there Now there’s a taste of blood in all the throats around here. Asked for a shot of winter in my holocaust, it caught my throat afire on the way down Wrought iron gateways pleading, under-used ovens awaiting further problems Countless eyes closing, rhyme boring reason. It wasn’t very sunny that weekend, sitting and watching this world stumbling to its end. -All rain all everywhere- Shining wet skies’ tears. -Sun hides in fear just around the corner from here- Just around the corner, see? Over there! God’s... eyes... closed. |
|||
Side B | |||
2. | Female | 13:57 | Show lyrics |
The moon pushed the sun down the spiral-staircase of time Bright neck broken, twisted beyond repair So now there’s only darkness standing there Arms outstretched/predatory parasite Vacant light From the tunnel of night. It’s colder here since the war, all colours took on a shade of grey The streams have run slower since you went away Even the summer is slouching now Sun not waxing, but waning - walking disappointedly away Moon with no hope of saving the day -It’s time I remembered that I have forgotten- Rainy season beyond sense and reason Endless sheets of glass Streets awash with horror Bullets in the back of summer Filthy water everywhere Not saved by incantations Summer sun always gone Left my smile all alone back there Forced to simply sit and stare At nothing Nothing Summer’s always gone Temperance overrule Temper under ruled Time - Oh, she’s short Wait - Oh, she’s long Where she went I’ll never know All I know Is she’s gone Gone? |
|||
30:24 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Male | 13:04 | Show lyrics |
Rough pencil scrawls of what could have been... Bright flowers there were I somehow couldn’t catch their scent it seemed -colours weren’t quite right...? A fumbled tickle of summer sandblasted by the jackbooted night Sun went down/moon rose We basked in the whitewash somewhere near opaque silence -just as ghosts in a storm of black noise... Cold fixed stars shining all over the tight tarpaulin of unsun void only. Separation -all stars screaming ...needle holes in heaven... Another nameless soul on the blacklist Snorted the sun, saved the moon for morning Now awaiting further gathering of the clouds Bathed in grey stroke black -no way out it keeps coming back Noise preventing rebirth We bathe in shreds of whispering glass Moon fell/sun cried Kept the dragon down, chasing the moon now With my teeth? And claws! Down dragon/moon chased (chaste) Teeth wide open Claws at your pretty throat Afell asun, arose athunder! I am an e-flat mage Chemical curses on the rampage Head full of daggers For the backs of random strangers I suggest you keep an eye or three Upon your enemies... my dear! Accidental summer caught mid coitus Smiling winter zips the [ ] up ...Saunters aways with a whistle Whilst the good weather bleeds rain, torn asunder ...Tears for the cold dried only by their owner Nowhere left now, death of our only summer |
|||
Side B | |||
2. | Earth and Matter | 09:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Microcosm | 10:27 | Show lyrics |
Nothing now but cages and railings All topped with barbs Even the weather’s apologetic Sees no rhyme or reason All exits barred now Love left lonely, gave way to the grave Left my smile somewhere on the journey between that and loss The walls of another god’s house encrusted in mould Sewage poured from ceiling, damp liquefied floor A building devoid of use, now A weather beaten grave Untended -no longer remembered- By Those Who Left The queue For mourning Merrily kicking the skulls of ex-deities Through the ex-halo hoops of toes up ex-angels More trophy heads for my walls No more crying about heaven or a lack of it No more to be found wanting Hoping for a safety net My lake of passion still edged with rust Her waters fouled by the corpse of lust So, I dug the last few feet of the six myself All too eager to taste the dust I laughed as I threw the first handful of earth I smiled as I watched the topsoil spread Autumn she sprang over summer into winter All was lost. All is lost. So much more snow than sunbeams these days What once was? What once was. The cold she marched through the rain Past the corpse of rebirth blacked out the sun’s last refrain -endless cycle ended |
|||
33:11 |
The Corpse of Rebirth
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion, Drums |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering (drums, guitars), Producer |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Engineering (except drums, guitars) |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design, Logo |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | God | 16:27 | Show lyrics |
Silence shattered like ice, incipit rage in myriad voices of the wind All light now absent as the banshees howl No solace in the maelstrom. -Even the sun’s afraid to rise around here- It’s ice cold as far as the eye can see Relentless winter restraining the new mourning rays. Frozen in thought whilst seeking oblivion. Got scalded by summer, given the cold shoulder by winter We’d watched the world go by... Shifting slowly from here to there, going in the direction of everywhere, but arriving neither here nor there Now there’s a taste of blood in all the throats around here. Asked for a shot of winter in my holocaust, it caught my throat afire on the way down Wrought iron gateways pleading, under-used ovens awaiting further problems Countless eyes closing, rhyme boring reason. It wasn’t very sunny that weekend, sitting and watching this world stumbling to its end. -All rain all everywhere- Shining wet skies’ tears. -Sun hides in fear just around the corner from here- Just around the corner, see? Over there! God’s... eyes... closed. |
|||
2. | Female | 13:57 | Show lyrics |
The moon pushed the sun down the spiral-staircase of time Bright neck broken, twisted beyond repair So now there’s only darkness standing there Arms outstretched/predatory parasite Vacant light From the tunnel of night. It’s colder here since the war, all colours took on a shade of grey The streams have run slower since you went away Even the summer is slouching now Sun not waxing, but waning - walking disappointedly away Moon with no hope of saving the day -It’s time I remembered that I have forgotten- Rainy season beyond sense and reason Endless sheets of glass Streets awash with horror Bullets in the back of summer Filthy water everywhere Not saved by incantations Summer sun always gone Left my smile all alone back there Forced to simply sit and stare At nothing Nothing Summer’s always gone Temperance overrule Temper under ruled Time - Oh, she’s short Wait - Oh, she’s long Where she went I’ll never know All I know Is she’s gone Gone? |
|||
3. | Male | 13:04 | Show lyrics |
Rough pencil scrawls of what could have been... Bright flowers there were I somehow couldn’t catch their scent it seemed -colours weren’t quite right...? A fumbled tickle of summer sandblasted by the jackbooted night Sun went down/moon rose We basked in the whitewash somewhere near opaque silence -just as ghosts in a storm of black noise... Cold fixed stars shining all over the tight tarpaulin of unsun void only. Separation -all stars screaming ...needle holes in heaven... Another nameless soul on the blacklist Snorted the sun, saved the moon for morning Now awaiting further gathering of the clouds Bathed in grey stroke black -no way out it keeps coming back Noise preventing rebirth We bathe in shreds of whispering glass Moon fell/sun cried Kept the dragon down, chasing the moon now With my teeth? And claws! Down dragon/moon chased (chaste) Teeth wide open Claws at your pretty throat Afell asun, arose athunder! I am an e-flat mage Chemical curses on the rampage Head full of daggers For the backs of random strangers I suggest you keep an eye or three Upon your enemies... my dear! Accidental summer caught mid coitus Smiling winter zips the [ ] up ...Saunters aways with a whistle Whilst the good weather bleeds rain, torn asunder ...Tears for the cold dried only by their owner Nowhere left now, death of our only summer |
|||
4. | Earth and Matter | 09:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Microcosm | 10:27 | Show lyrics |
Nothing now but cages and railings All topped with barbs Even the weather’s apologetic Sees no rhyme or reason All exits barred now Love left lonely, gave way to the grave Left my smile somewhere on the journey between that and loss The walls of another god’s house encrusted in mould Sewage poured from ceiling, damp liquefied floor A building devoid of use, now A weather beaten grave Untended -no longer remembered- By Those Who Left The queue For mourning Merrily kicking the skulls of ex-deities Through the ex-halo hoops of toes up ex-angels More trophy heads for my walls No more crying about heaven or a lack of it No more to be found wanting Hoping for a safety net My lake of passion still edged with rust Her waters fouled by the corpse of lust So, I dug the last few feet of the six myself All too eager to taste the dust I laughed as I threw the first handful of earth I smiled as I watched the topsoil spread Autumn she sprang over summer into winter All was lost. All is lost. So much more snow than sunbeams these days What once was? What once was. The cold she marched through the rain Past the corpse of rebirth blacked out the sun’s last refrain -endless cycle ended |
|||
6. | Female (Live) | 11:04 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
01:14:39 |
Opportunistic Thieves of Spring
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Guest/Session | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Guimbarde |
Miss Charly Hellier | Vocals (backing), Accordion |
Mr Robert Hobson | Guitars (acoustic), Vocals (backing) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design |
Robert Hobson | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Sorrow’s Impetus | 13:01 | Show lyrics |
Awoke from typhlotic silence. Awoke from mind inearth. Conscious enveloping, sick feat over. To the shock of the white-coated, I returned undefeated from whence others fear to tread. Time to fling another barrage at desideratum... Last rites retracted. So I’m trying to remember where I was when I lost sight of the flickering sun. Perhaps to recall, the beginning of the downfall of it all... the rainbow drain-bowed. Ember’s colour became as grey, on the day when perspectives lengthened. When what had seemed before to be so far away became to me so shockingly, starkly, clear. Face down in ash, choking in frenzy (soon to become a meal for the many). As smiling eyes to glittering ice worm voices rising through all this putrefaction. Awaiting loss in less than resignation, to finish the start a tempting frustration. Fully expecting subterfuge, in a place of no refuge. No last chances for this sleighted hand. Away, away lying through the last stand dead heat, soul on ice; all wishes wasted... ...dreaming pure horror. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie Painting out cracked windows of the soul / in misty midnight black Serrated blades of silver hatred / ragged cuts pissing blood Torn through gossamer thin desire / all hope and fear feeding funeral pyres Whatever passed for colour / has now passed on. Spider amongst the bar flies, Sinking sorrows as oceans rise, and fallen angels fall further! |
|||
2. | Raven’s Eye View | 09:23 | Show lyrics |
I won’t just steal your thunder, I’ll have your lightning as well. As crushing blow of hammer, annihilating those grating steeple bells. As hairline cracks to fragments! Standing up on high, spraying golden rain down on to the waiting faces of you pious, worthless swine... Hear my sermon splashing down all around you, children. We would not even waste one single match on you trough-fed, hook-lined, soul-sunk bottom-feeders. Never mind chapter and so-called verse. I shall instead content myself with loosing my bowels upon you to drown your herd in a flurry of slurry. Soul starved bodies crushed, throats stuffed with my falling angels. Yours, in mocking memory! After all, you are only worthwhile as fertilizer... To the gallows with your lack of humour! You, who do not play well with words! Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Upon Eternity’s Anvil! |
|||
3. | Summertide’s Approach | 13:27 | Show lyrics |
As water rushes, as sewer grates over-faced. All bloated corpse, all ever-was. As love becomes hated, as light shades to grey. Swelled to envelop all ever-nothing. All stagnation becomes all too apparent. As horizon forced below. While smiling frown, while laughing weep. As mould grows thickly, silently all around. As scream becomes whimper, under weight of shroud befouled. All clamour now silence / nature leagues below. Let’s see you fight with lungs full of stone! Hope all forgotten, beauty as beast. All breath to fire / All sustenance to filth, All flesh to rot / All temples to rubble, All toil turns to trouble / All to nothing, ALL HORROR! ALL HORROR! Faceless, mindless, souls sold all the way out. Heartless, hopeless, ensnared in useless sorrows... What’s the use of all light shining with idiot eyes screwed tight shut? Profane it all, just tell me, what’s the use? If you’re going to use those stupid hands to build an ugly pyre, and truss me up there by mob-hoofed force, I’ll be wanting more than just a penny. More than just a miserable fucking penny... ...A miserable pox-ridden penny for the guy. I could hurl a thousand curses, and not one could gift you fair judgement. So crack out those ten-a-penny lighters, and spark up your miserable flames... |
|||
4. | Thunder’s Cannonade | 08:01 | Show lyrics |
Our sky, she’s full of lights, glinting through all that dark, uncaring. The Rats on the Moon are shielding their eyes, against the creeping, the crawling... All that so-called useless DNA. Sharp colours teased to a gleam... Doesn’t matter Refracted inaction... ...remains inaction. This cursed recursive loop ∞ pure comedy. Soon ye shall be razed in flame. HA! How does that fire feel climbing up your back? Still grabbing with those thieving little hands? So we strive to lift up our heads against the nowhere, before you blot out Mother’s summersphere. One fist may resolve nothing, but many fists shall knock you flat. One projection may be simple refraction, but many, well, they equal reaction. Those ears of yours just picked up a sneaky peal of thunder. Are you ready for the lightning to strike? Are you? |
|||
5. | Starfire’s Memory | 11:50 | Show lyrics |
Dusk, she is the calming influence, making ends meet in a place of concentric corners. She cleanses these gutters with her utmost purity. Onrushing dark leaves your false light lonely. Her frozen kiss devoid of apology. Setting cleansing fires to guide the rest of us through the night by. When we once again arrive in struggling shine of dawn, memories of her ice shall gird us on our way... For all the friends we left behind, for lost summers and eyes gone blind. For the kiss of blade on desperate flesh, for light shrouded only in funeral dress. For all tears mingled with bad blood, awaiting sentencing for hearts taken, but not understood. For all mislaid foundation stones, for all smiles cracked wide open. For all beauty turned to ash, for all flames in deluge doused. For all fear all encompassing. One for sorrow. Two to destroy. |
|||
6. | Delay’s Progression | 16:28 | Show lyrics |
We watched rain hammer the good weather, and waited for the end to start. Sparks flew from chains dragged in servitude, watching colours fail and brightness turn to programmed dusk. While tears burnt tracks in cold stone, all future to disappear beneath layers of sorrow. Stone-clad solitude / rain lashed epitaph. All earthly shells divide. Divide by zero... We ignored the men stamping out the future, and smiled at the cathode rays. Drizzle crawled over cracked portals to nowhere. Afraid to face the grey infiltrating our bored darkness. While rainbows feigned ignorance, all past lost in a deluge of tedium. Media driven prison / scavenger crawl. All flesh corrupt. Rot to multiply... Colour washes out given time. Time awaited ticks away. Your lives lived in stolen fictions, words of men your protocol. We shall re-tune your noise, into a steady blast. Beating out an old tattoo, upon Eternity’s Anvil. All Father, hold fast for me! Delaying the inevitable as seasons become as one. All encompassing winter of servitude. All is as nothing, all has nothing to become. She cried, she cried, as all summer fell. Took the Final by the scruff of its dirty neck, and flung it far into forever! Waiting for delay to progress lost its appeal. Shifting our weight against this seasonless somewhere, embroiled in a twisting universe simulated and unreal. The final curtain fell, and fell. And fell. Leaving cleansing, crushing darkness to fend for herself... Leached of colour, evolution gone full circle from tail, to head, to putrefaction. Starting to End all over again, the stars cry for no-one. As shades of grey become colour, we bow our heads for the passing of summer. Into darkness now, to await Sol’s triumphant return. Firebrands rise! Backlit bloodlines obscure and clot! |
|||
01:12:10 |
Opportunistic Thieves of Spring
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Guest/Session | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Guimbarde |
Miss Charly Hellier | Vocals (backing), Accordion |
Mr Robert Hobson | Guitars (acoustic), Vocals (backing) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design |
Robert Hobson | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Sorrow’s Impetus | 13:01 | Show lyrics |
Awoke from typhlotic silence. Awoke from mind inearth. Conscious enveloping, sick feat over. To the shock of the white-coated, I returned undefeated from whence others fear to tread. Time to fling another barrage at desideratum... Last rites retracted. So I’m trying to remember where I was when I lost sight of the flickering sun. Perhaps to recall, the beginning of the downfall of it all... the rainbow drain-bowed. Ember’s colour became as grey, on the day when perspectives lengthened. When what had seemed before to be so far away became to me so shockingly, starkly, clear. Face down in ash, choking in frenzy (soon to become a meal for the many). As smiling eyes to glittering ice worm voices rising through all this putrefaction. Awaiting loss in less than resignation, to finish the start a tempting frustration. Fully expecting subterfuge, in a place of no refuge. No last chances for this sleighted hand. Away, away lying through the last stand dead heat, soul on ice; all wishes wasted... ...dreaming pure horror. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie Painting out cracked windows of the soul / in misty midnight black Serrated blades of silver hatred / ragged cuts pissing blood Torn through gossamer thin desire / all hope and fear feeding funeral pyres Whatever passed for colour / has now passed on. Spider amongst the bar flies, Sinking sorrows as oceans rise, and fallen angels fall further! |
|||
2. | Raven’s Eye View | 09:23 | Show lyrics |
I won’t just steal your thunder, I’ll have your lightning as well. As crushing blow of hammer, annihilating those grating steeple bells. As hairline cracks to fragments! Standing up on high, spraying golden rain down on to the waiting faces of you pious, worthless swine... Hear my sermon splashing down all around you, children. We would not even waste one single match on you trough-fed, hook-lined, soul-sunk bottom-feeders. Never mind chapter and so-called verse. I shall instead content myself with loosing my bowels upon you to drown your herd in a flurry of slurry. Soul starved bodies crushed, throats stuffed with my falling angels. Yours, in mocking memory! After all, you are only worthwhile as fertilizer... To the gallows with your lack of humour! You, who do not play well with words! Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Upon Eternity’s Anvil! |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | Summertide’s Approach | 13:27 | Show lyrics |
As water rushes, as sewer grates over-faced. All bloated corpse, all ever-was. As love becomes hated, as light shades to grey. Swelled to envelop all ever-nothing. All stagnation becomes all too apparent. As horizon forced below. While smiling frown, while laughing weep. As mould grows thickly, silently all around. As scream becomes whimper, under weight of shroud befouled. All clamour now silence / nature leagues below. Let’s see you fight with lungs full of stone! Hope all forgotten, beauty as beast. All breath to fire / All sustenance to filth, All flesh to rot / All temples to rubble, All toil turns to trouble / All to nothing, ALL HORROR! ALL HORROR! Faceless, mindless, souls sold all the way out. Heartless, hopeless, ensnared in useless sorrows... What’s the use of all light shining with idiot eyes screwed tight shut? Profane it all, just tell me, what’s the use? If you’re going to use those stupid hands to build an ugly pyre, and truss me up there by mob-hoofed force, I’ll be wanting more than just a penny. More than just a miserable fucking penny... ...A miserable pox-ridden penny for the guy. I could hurl a thousand curses, and not one could gift you fair judgement. So crack out those ten-a-penny lighters, and spark up your miserable flames... |
|||
35:51 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Thunder’s Cannonade | 08:01 | Show lyrics |
Our sky, she’s full of lights, glinting through all that dark, uncaring. The Rats on the Moon are shielding their eyes, against the creeping, the crawling... All that so-called useless DNA. Sharp colours teased to a gleam... Doesn’t matter Refracted inaction... ...remains inaction. This cursed recursive loop ∞ pure comedy. Soon ye shall be razed in flame. HA! How does that fire feel climbing up your back? Still grabbing with those thieving little hands? So we strive to lift up our heads against the nowhere, before you blot out Mother’s summersphere. One fist may resolve nothing, but many fists shall knock you flat. One projection may be simple refraction, but many, well, they equal reaction. Those ears of yours just picked up a sneaky peal of thunder. Are you ready for the lightning to strike? Are you? |
|||
2. | Starfire’s Memory | 11:50 | Show lyrics |
Dusk, she is the calming influence, making ends meet in a place of concentric corners. She cleanses these gutters with her utmost purity. Onrushing dark leaves your false light lonely. Her frozen kiss devoid of apology. Setting cleansing fires to guide the rest of us through the night by. When we once again arrive in struggling shine of dawn, memories of her ice shall gird us on our way... For all the friends we left behind, for lost summers and eyes gone blind. For the kiss of blade on desperate flesh, for light shrouded only in funeral dress. For all tears mingled with bad blood, awaiting sentencing for hearts taken, but not understood. For all mislaid foundation stones, for all smiles cracked wide open. For all beauty turned to ash, for all flames in deluge doused. For all fear all encompassing. One for sorrow. Two to destroy. |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | Delay’s Progression | 16:28 | Show lyrics |
We watched rain hammer the good weather, and waited for the end to start. Sparks flew from chains dragged in servitude, watching colours fail and brightness turn to programmed dusk. While tears burnt tracks in cold stone, all future to disappear beneath layers of sorrow. Stone-clad solitude / rain lashed epitaph. All earthly shells divide. Divide by zero... We ignored the men stamping out the future, and smiled at the cathode rays. Drizzle crawled over cracked portals to nowhere. Afraid to face the grey infiltrating our bored darkness. While rainbows feigned ignorance, all past lost in a deluge of tedium. Media driven prison / scavenger crawl. All flesh corrupt. Rot to multiply... Colour washes out given time. Time awaited ticks away. Your lives lived in stolen fictions, words of men your protocol. We shall re-tune your noise, into a steady blast. Beating out an old tattoo, upon Eternity’s Anvil. All Father, hold fast for me! Delaying the inevitable as seasons become as one. All encompassing winter of servitude. All is as nothing, all has nothing to become. She cried, she cried, as all summer fell. Took the Final by the scruff of its dirty neck, and flung it far into forever! Waiting for delay to progress lost its appeal. Shifting our weight against this seasonless somewhere, embroiled in a twisting universe simulated and unreal. The final curtain fell, and fell. And fell. Leaving cleansing, crushing darkness to fend for herself... Leached of colour, evolution gone full circle from tail, to head, to putrefaction. Starting to End all over again, the stars cry for no-one. As shades of grey become colour, we bow our heads for the passing of summer. Into darkness now, to await Sol’s triumphant return. Firebrands rise! Backlit bloodlines obscure and clot! |
|||
36:19 |
Opportunistic Thieves of Spring
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Guest/Session | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Guimbarde |
Miss Charly Hellier | Vocals (backing), Accordion |
Mr Robert Hobson | Guitars (acoustic), Vocals (backing) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design |
Robert Hobson | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Sorrow’s Impetus | 13:01 | Show lyrics |
Awoke from typhlotic silence. Awoke from mind inearth. Conscious enveloping, sick feat over. To the shock of the white-coated, I returned undefeated from whence others fear to tread. Time to fling another barrage at desideratum... Last rites retracted. So I’m trying to remember where I was when I lost sight of the flickering sun. Perhaps to recall, the beginning of the downfall of it all... the rainbow drain-bowed. Ember’s colour became as grey, on the day when perspectives lengthened. When what had seemed before to be so far away became to me so shockingly, starkly, clear. Face down in ash, choking in frenzy (soon to become a meal for the many). As smiling eyes to glittering ice worm voices rising through all this putrefaction. Awaiting loss in less than resignation, to finish the start a tempting frustration. Fully expecting subterfuge, in a place of no refuge. No last chances for this sleighted hand. Away, away lying through the last stand dead heat, soul on ice; all wishes wasted... ...dreaming pure horror. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie Painting out cracked windows of the soul / in misty midnight black Serrated blades of silver hatred / ragged cuts pissing blood Torn through gossamer thin desire / all hope and fear feeding funeral pyres Whatever passed for colour / has now passed on. Spider amongst the bar flies, Sinking sorrows as oceans rise, and fallen angels fall further! |
|||
2. | Raven’s Eye View | 09:23 | Show lyrics |
I won’t just steal your thunder, I’ll have your lightning as well. As crushing blow of hammer, annihilating those grating steeple bells. As hairline cracks to fragments! Standing up on high, spraying golden rain down on to the waiting faces of you pious, worthless swine... Hear my sermon splashing down all around you, children. We would not even waste one single match on you trough-fed, hook-lined, soul-sunk bottom-feeders. Never mind chapter and so-called verse. I shall instead content myself with loosing my bowels upon you to drown your herd in a flurry of slurry. Soul starved bodies crushed, throats stuffed with my falling angels. Yours, in mocking memory! After all, you are only worthwhile as fertilizer... To the gallows with your lack of humour! You, who do not play well with words! Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Upon Eternity’s Anvil! |
|||
3. | Summertide’s Approach | 13:27 | Show lyrics |
As water rushes, as sewer grates over-faced. All bloated corpse, all ever-was. As love becomes hated, as light shades to grey. Swelled to envelop all ever-nothing. All stagnation becomes all too apparent. As horizon forced below. While smiling frown, while laughing weep. As mould grows thickly, silently all around. As scream becomes whimper, under weight of shroud befouled. All clamour now silence / nature leagues below. Let’s see you fight with lungs full of stone! Hope all forgotten, beauty as beast. All breath to fire / All sustenance to filth, All flesh to rot / All temples to rubble, All toil turns to trouble / All to nothing, ALL HORROR! ALL HORROR! Faceless, mindless, souls sold all the way out. Heartless, hopeless, ensnared in useless sorrows... What’s the use of all light shining with idiot eyes screwed tight shut? Profane it all, just tell me, what’s the use? If you’re going to use those stupid hands to build an ugly pyre, and truss me up there by mob-hoofed force, I’ll be wanting more than just a penny. More than just a miserable fucking penny... ...A miserable pox-ridden penny for the guy. I could hurl a thousand curses, and not one could gift you fair judgement. So crack out those ten-a-penny lighters, and spark up your miserable flames... |
|||
4. | Thunder’s Cannonade | 08:01 | Show lyrics |
Our sky, she’s full of lights, glinting through all that dark, uncaring. The Rats on the Moon are shielding their eyes, against the creeping, the crawling... All that so-called useless DNA. Sharp colours teased to a gleam... Doesn’t matter Refracted inaction... ...remains inaction. This cursed recursive loop ∞ pure comedy. Soon ye shall be razed in flame. HA! How does that fire feel climbing up your back? Still grabbing with those thieving little hands? So we strive to lift up our heads against the nowhere, before you blot out Mother’s summersphere. One fist may resolve nothing, but many fists shall knock you flat. One projection may be simple refraction, but many, well, they equal reaction. Those ears of yours just picked up a sneaky peal of thunder. Are you ready for the lightning to strike? Are you? |
|||
5. | Starfire’s Memory | 11:50 | Show lyrics |
Dusk, she is the calming influence, making ends meet in a place of concentric corners. She cleanses these gutters with her utmost purity. Onrushing dark leaves your false light lonely. Her frozen kiss devoid of apology. Setting cleansing fires to guide the rest of us through the night by. When we once again arrive in struggling shine of dawn, memories of her ice shall gird us on our way... For all the friends we left behind, for lost summers and eyes gone blind. For the kiss of blade on desperate flesh, for light shrouded only in funeral dress. For all tears mingled with bad blood, awaiting sentencing for hearts taken, but not understood. For all mislaid foundation stones, for all smiles cracked wide open. For all beauty turned to ash, for all flames in deluge doused. For all fear all encompassing. One for sorrow. Two to destroy. |
|||
6. | Delay’s Progression | 16:28 | Show lyrics |
We watched rain hammer the good weather, and waited for the end to start. Sparks flew from chains dragged in servitude, watching colours fail and brightness turn to programmed dusk. While tears burnt tracks in cold stone, all future to disappear beneath layers of sorrow. Stone-clad solitude / rain lashed epitaph. All earthly shells divide. Divide by zero... We ignored the men stamping out the future, and smiled at the cathode rays. Drizzle crawled over cracked portals to nowhere. Afraid to face the grey infiltrating our bored darkness. While rainbows feigned ignorance, all past lost in a deluge of tedium. Media driven prison / scavenger crawl. All flesh corrupt. Rot to multiply... Colour washes out given time. Time awaited ticks away. Your lives lived in stolen fictions, words of men your protocol. We shall re-tune your noise, into a steady blast. Beating out an old tattoo, upon Eternity’s Anvil. All Father, hold fast for me! Delaying the inevitable as seasons become as one. All encompassing winter of servitude. All is as nothing, all has nothing to become. She cried, she cried, as all summer fell. Took the Final by the scruff of its dirty neck, and flung it far into forever! Waiting for delay to progress lost its appeal. Shifting our weight against this seasonless somewhere, embroiled in a twisting universe simulated and unreal. The final curtain fell, and fell. And fell. Leaving cleansing, crushing darkness to fend for herself... Leached of colour, evolution gone full circle from tail, to head, to putrefaction. Starting to End all over again, the stars cry for no-one. As shades of grey become colour, we bow our heads for the passing of summer. Into darkness now, to await Sol’s triumphant return. Firebrands rise! Backlit bloodlines obscure and clot! |
|||
01:12:10 |
Opportunistic Thieves of Spring
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals, Lyrics |
Katheryne, Queen of the Gods | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Guest/Session | |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Guimbarde |
Miss Charly Hellier | Vocals (backing), Accordion |
Mr Robert Hobson | Guitars (acoustic), Vocals (backing) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Lord Grum | Layout, Design |
Robert Hobson | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 (CD) - Phonographique | |||
1. | Chapter One: Sorrow’s Impetus | 13:00 | Show lyrics |
Awoke from typhlotic silence. Awoke from mind inearth. Conscious enveloping, sick feat over. To the shock of the white-coated, I returned undefeated from whence others fear to tread. Time to fling another barrage at desideratum... Last rites retracted. So I’m trying to remember where I was when I lost sight of the flickering sun. Perhaps to recall, the beginning of the downfall of it all... the rainbow drain-bowed. Ember’s colour became as grey, on the day when perspectives lengthened. When what had seemed before to be so far away became to me so shockingly, starkly, clear. Face down in ash, choking in frenzy (soon to become a meal for the many). As smiling eyes to glittering ice worm voices rising through all this putrefaction. Awaiting loss in less than resignation, to finish the start a tempting frustration. Fully expecting subterfuge, in a place of no refuge. No last chances for this sleighted hand. Away, away lying through the last stand dead heat, soul on ice; all wishes wasted... ...dreaming pure horror. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie Painting out cracked windows of the soul / in misty midnight black Serrated blades of silver hatred / ragged cuts pissing blood Torn through gossamer thin desire / all hope and fear feeding funeral pyres Whatever passed for colour / has now passed on. Spider amongst the bar flies, Sinking sorrows as oceans rise, and fallen angels fall further! |
|||
2. | Chapter Two: Raven’s Eye View | 09:22 | Show lyrics |
I won’t just steal your thunder, I’ll have your lightning as well. As crushing blow of hammer, annihilating those grating steeple bells. As hairline cracks to fragments! Standing up on high, spraying golden rain down on to the waiting faces of you pious, worthless swine... Hear my sermon splashing down all around you, children. We would not even waste one single match on you trough-fed, hook-lined, soul-sunk bottom-feeders. Never mind chapter and so-called verse. I shall instead content myself with loosing my bowels upon you to drown your herd in a flurry of slurry. Soul starved bodies crushed, throats stuffed with my falling angels. Yours, in mocking memory! After all, you are only worthwhile as fertilizer... To the gallows with your lack of humour! You, who do not play well with words! Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Hammer blow upon hammer blow. Upon Eternity’s Anvil! |
|||
3. | Chapter Three: Summertide’s Approach | 13:26 | Show lyrics |
As water rushes, as sewer grates over-faced. All bloated corpse, all ever-was. As love becomes hated, as light shades to grey. Swelled to envelop all ever-nothing. All stagnation becomes all too apparent. As horizon forced below. While smiling frown, while laughing weep. As mould grows thickly, silently all around. As scream becomes whimper, under weight of shroud befouled. All clamour now silence / nature leagues below. Let’s see you fight with lungs full of stone! Hope all forgotten, beauty as beast. All breath to fire / All sustenance to filth, All flesh to rot / All temples to rubble, All toil turns to trouble / All to nothing, ALL HORROR! ALL HORROR! Faceless, mindless, souls sold all the way out. Heartless, hopeless, ensnared in useless sorrows... What’s the use of all light shining with idiot eyes screwed tight shut? Profane it all, just tell me, what’s the use? If you’re going to use those stupid hands to build an ugly pyre, and truss me up there by mob-hoofed force, I’ll be wanting more than just a penny. More than just a miserable fucking penny... ...A miserable pox-ridden penny for the guy. I could hurl a thousand curses, and not one could gift you fair judgement. So crack out those ten-a-penny lighters, and spark up your miserable flames... |
|||
4. | Chapter Four: Thunder’s Cannonade | 08:00 | Show lyrics |
Our sky, she’s full of lights, glinting through all that dark, uncaring. The Rats on the Moon are shielding their eyes, against the creeping, the crawling... All that so-called useless DNA. Sharp colours teased to a gleam... Doesn’t matter Refracted inaction... ...remains inaction. This cursed recursive loop ∞ pure comedy. Soon ye shall be razed in flame. HA! How does that fire feel climbing up your back? Still grabbing with those thieving little hands? So we strive to lift up our heads against the nowhere, before you blot out Mother’s summersphere. One fist may resolve nothing, but many fists shall knock you flat. One projection may be simple refraction, but many, well, they equal reaction. Those ears of yours just picked up a sneaky peal of thunder. Are you ready for the lightning to strike? Are you? |
|||
5. | Chapter Five: Starfire’s Memory | 11:49 | Show lyrics |
Dusk, she is the calming influence, making ends meet in a place of concentric corners. She cleanses these gutters with her utmost purity. Onrushing dark leaves your false light lonely. Her frozen kiss devoid of apology. Setting cleansing fires to guide the rest of us through the night by. When we once again arrive in struggling shine of dawn, memories of her ice shall gird us on our way... For all the friends we left behind, for lost summers and eyes gone blind. For the kiss of blade on desperate flesh, for light shrouded only in funeral dress. For all tears mingled with bad blood, awaiting sentencing for hearts taken, but not understood. For all mislaid foundation stones, for all smiles cracked wide open. For all beauty turned to ash, for all flames in deluge doused. For all fear all encompassing. One for sorrow. Two to destroy. |
|||
6. | Chapter Six: Delay’s Progression | 16:26 | Show lyrics |
We watched rain hammer the good weather, and waited for the end to start. Sparks flew from chains dragged in servitude, watching colours fail and brightness turn to programmed dusk. While tears burnt tracks in cold stone, all future to disappear beneath layers of sorrow. Stone-clad solitude / rain lashed epitaph. All earthly shells divide. Divide by zero... We ignored the men stamping out the future, and smiled at the cathode rays. Drizzle crawled over cracked portals to nowhere. Afraid to face the grey infiltrating our bored darkness. While rainbows feigned ignorance, all past lost in a deluge of tedium. Media driven prison / scavenger crawl. All flesh corrupt. Rot to multiply... Colour washes out given time. Time awaited ticks away. Your lives lived in stolen fictions, words of men your protocol. We shall re-tune your noise, into a steady blast. Beating out an old tattoo, upon Eternity’s Anvil. All Father, hold fast for me! Delaying the inevitable as seasons become as one. All encompassing winter of servitude. All is as nothing, all has nothing to become. She cried, she cried, as all summer fell. Took the Final by the scruff of its dirty neck, and flung it far into forever! Waiting for delay to progress lost its appeal. Shifting our weight against this seasonless somewhere, embroiled in a twisting universe simulated and unreal. The final curtain fell, and fell. And fell. Leaving cleansing, crushing darkness to fend for herself... Leached of colour, evolution gone full circle from tail, to head, to putrefaction. Starting to End all over again, the stars cry for no-one. As shades of grey become colour, we bow our heads for the passing of summer. Into darkness now, to await Sol’s triumphant return. Firebrands rise! Backlit bloodlines obscure and clot! |
|||
01:12:03 | |||
Disc 2 (DVD) - Cinematographique | |||
1. | Raven’s Eye View (Louis Le Prince Edit) | 08:27 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Male (Live) | 10:49 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
19:16 |
A Shadowplay for Yesterdays
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Piano, Percussion, Programming, Synthesizer, Tambourine, Vibraphone, Gong |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Vocals, Guitars, Programming |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars |
Guest/Session | |
Philip Wilcox | Accordion |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Karolina Szymkiewicz | Artwork |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering |
The Gentleman | Engineering |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering |
Grum | Layout, Design |
The Projectionist | Photography |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Directionless Resurrectionist | 03:13 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute, One Miss Crow, who, by force of a certain stranger, had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will. Resulting from this invasion came, an aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name, A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature; to be expelled from the womb in late November. A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow. From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow. He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent, a resident of fantasy, living a life of lament. He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend. Yet his friends were to call him Carrion, the friends inside his head... |
|||
2. | Prey Tell of the Church Fate | 07:27 | Show lyrics |
So we forge onward through lonely valleys of pious pretense. No healthy prophets encountered outside these steely inquisitor’s eyes. No men of any monotone god we could stand proud beside. They and their gilt-riddled baubles cast onto the blazing temple pyres, holy whore houses proudly reduced to ashes of sweetest desecration. Soporific spirits quaffed from dusty, sightless skulls. Strong-heart would not entertain their malady. Weak of will tangled in leprosy. Spiritual sickness babbling incessantly. Babbling Babylon put to the torch. Pinched faces staring through funereal fog, felt flame broiled crook’d hands a’grasp. Ground them to fine dust, snorted them deep. Left coated in confusion, with my lack of sleep. You that seek to encode reality, to defraud sanity - Be damned! You that seek to incarcerate spirit, to calcify astral eyes - Be damned! Be mindful that mind is not you. Be mindful that you are not mind. Be mindful that heart knows how this goes. As real as Azrael? Don’t mind - never mind. Don’t mind - never mind. |
|||
3. | A Prophet for a Pound of Flesh | 10:11 | Show lyrics |
Ugly Christs peer through nailed spaces, flesh ripened on idealist meat hooks. Con-gregation staring in pious devotion, ravenous spirit starved faces, famished minds consuming works of friction, symbols of submission choking scrawny necks. We count spent prophets into filthy begging bowls. Conflagration of the body - see? Do you really see? To kneel lost in venereal veneration, to love their god served rare, savouring their saviour, on their hands and knees. Nowhere to go from here. Golden wine proffered by filthy hosts, micturation as benediction. Washing down the failure, praying for something stronger to take the taste away. Sorry sun god facsimile, not so convincing in the cold light of day. - Jerusalem consumed - Salvation in flash fried defecation, sustaining the soulless to bleat another day. Half baked men of soiled cloth, scream tales of avarice and sloth. Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, laughing cackle their names. Slave religion of the pitiful, lost, choking songs of sorrow and loss, Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, a nesting amongst the graves. |
|||
4. | The Blight of God’s Acre | 06:09 | Show lyrics |
He’s a seaside side-show freak armed with the tools of the trade, standing in shadow by cemetery gates. The revenant tenants of this tenement yard, raise two fingers to the fates. No solace to be found in their foetid tombs, he at leisure to violate those catacomb wombs. Plots twist with hosts yet unwilling. Last sods of earth clawed away, he knows they know what he knows. Polite enough to knock upon the lid of each box, to await their invitation before being so bold, cracked heart stutters in hollow chest so cold. So, sunk deep in festering flesh, their baubles stripped at leisure, Guiltless here, without compassion. Taking pleasure in their corruption. It all gets worse when he finds a fresh one, to be carted off as contraband for the medical profession. So, nefarious urges sated, pockets a-brimming with shining trinkets, he plays at brother Magpie’s games. Heart a flutter of oily black. Leaning back against a monument, heedless of inscription, a stolen cigarette fumbled from a hidden poacher’s pocket. He may yet take a moment to ponder, upon the marble town of Yonder. And maybe just a trice to wonder, why her bone orchard saplings never say a word. And only come out to play, when he requests admission, then assuming rite of passage, in decayed passage ways. So he loads his barrow with the fruits of God’s acre, and all away upon his toes he goes, to shower his bone sore friends in their ivory sewers with gifts all rent asunder. But all willing, unresisting. Spoiled fruits of plunder. |
|||
5. | Man’s Laughter | 03:00 | Show lyrics |
(I don’t want to be left behind here...) | |||
6. | The Underside of Eden | 08:14 | Show lyrics |
There is a fear here. Azrael has a finger on my pulse. His infinity is not so far removed, from the Metatrons’ babbling insanities. Music of the Spheres bouncing, as infinite echoes bickering in this rubber tomb. Whom God helps? None but itself. So if God is death, death is god, yes? There is a fear here. Azrael has a’whispered in my ear. His infinity is not seeking to improve, on the Metatrons’ gabbled profanities. Music of the Spheres receding, as infinite sorrows in this indefinite pause of doom. Whom God helps? None but itself. Signs on this bone-sown road show naught but portents. The angry dead feign smiles as they point the way. Through nothing but rocks just quietly spinning, around lights a’gaining critical mass. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires. |
|||
7. | Gatherer of the Pure | 08:20 | Show lyrics |
He’s a man of the world, but his is a small world, being a world whirled and whipped inside a filth caked skull. All a dalliance in delusion, all dreamed down in narcotic seclusion, he peeps all askance through all and sundry; three dimension unreality his fourth dimension play-day. All eternity a rainy Sunday. He, a builder of worlds in dreams. He, a destroyer of worlds in dreams. Feculent plots / hatch / fester / fry. Subsistence burnt black, effulguent brain pan besmirched. Labours of love ladled into ravenous toilet bowl of life. All lost souls to feat upon fresh hot meal of voided bowel. He, a leacher of colour. He, a void in sanity. A poisoner of the well, instiller of winter’s gray flavour. A spasmed spatter of the obvious, a-soiling gleaming uncertainty. On a lonely wander through twisting streets of Yonder, his one good eye spying, prying, a shadow play for yesterdays. All tomorrows, all yesterdays today, Carrion Crow, pinch-faced proprietor of this sorry sideshow. Roll up, roll up! Crack cranks his codeine calliope, all is vibrant colour without his vermined bone box. All within, bleak nothing - all without to pay homage, at his insistence. Cosmic keys broken in twisting locks of lost infinities. His worlds all a-fire now, a Lucifer turning in listless circles, before landing in the dry hay of thoughts half-remembered. Evensong their last song. Pray for the prey! Sing for your supper! Funeral pyres for one and all today. As hand of God to give, as hand of God to take away. |
|||
8. | Left Behind as Static | 06:43 | Show lyrics |
This life is but an echo of a lost broadcast, our voices and our loves, just as crackles in static. I don’t want to be left behind here; when all my others have become as music... |
|||
9. | Corvus Corona (Part 1) | 03:15 | Show lyrics |
So, he’s hurrying demons from their seats around the circle, hastening to complete that ritual before fraught return of day. All this haste has crowded his cranium, tenanted now by poison voices, relocated revenants roar. White noise blasted black, never again to sleep, silence a distant memory, a mutiny for sanity. |
|||
10. | Corvus Corona (Part 2) | 06:13 | Show lyrics |
He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, a vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - mental ventilation won’t stifle their cries, his futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. [Abyss stares right through him.] Crow’s nest crowded with cackling crew, all staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, a-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. |
|||
01:02:45 |
A Shadowplay for Yesterdays
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Piano, Percussion, Programming, Synthesizer, Tambourine, Vibraphone, Gong |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Vocals, Guitars, Programming |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars |
Guest/Session | |
Philip Wilcox | Accordion |
Miscellaneous staff | |
The Gentleman | Engineering |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering |
Karolina Szymkiewicz | Artwork |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering |
Grum | Layout, Design |
The Projectionist | Photography |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Directionless Resurrectionist | 03:13 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute, One Miss Crow, who, by force of a certain stranger, had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will. Resulting from this invasion came, an aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name, A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature; to be expelled from the womb in late November. A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow. From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow. He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent, a resident of fantasy, living a life of lament. He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend. Yet his friends were to call him Carrion, the friends inside his head... |
|||
2. | Prey Tell of the Church Fate | 07:27 | Show lyrics |
So we forge onward through lonely valleys of pious pretense. No healthy prophets encountered outside these steely inquisitor’s eyes. No men of any monotone god we could stand proud beside. They and their gilt-riddled baubles cast onto the blazing temple pyres, holy whore houses proudly reduced to ashes of sweetest desecration. Soporific spirits quaffed from dusty, sightless skulls. Strong-heart would not entertain their malady. Weak of will tangled in leprosy. Spiritual sickness babbling incessantly. Babbling Babylon put to the torch. Pinched faces staring through funereal fog, felt flame broiled crook’d hands a’grasp. Ground them to fine dust, snorted them deep. Left coated in confusion, with my lack of sleep. You that seek to encode reality, to defraud sanity - Be damned! You that seek to incarcerate spirit, to calcify astral eyes - Be damned! Be mindful that mind is not you. Be mindful that you are not mind. Be mindful that heart knows how this goes. As real as Azrael? Don’t mind - never mind. Don’t mind - never mind. |
|||
3. | A Prophet for a Pound of Flesh | 10:11 | Show lyrics |
Ugly Christs peer through nailed spaces, flesh ripened on idealist meat hooks. Con-gregation staring in pious devotion, ravenous spirit starved faces, famished minds consuming works of friction, symbols of submission choking scrawny necks. We count spent prophets into filthy begging bowls. Conflagration of the body - see? Do you really see? To kneel lost in venereal veneration, to love their god served rare, savouring their saviour, on their hands and knees. Nowhere to go from here. Golden wine proffered by filthy hosts, micturation as benediction. Washing down the failure, praying for something stronger to take the taste away. Sorry sun god facsimile, not so convincing in the cold light of day. - Jerusalem consumed - Salvation in flash fried defecation, sustaining the soulless to bleat another day. Half baked men of soiled cloth, scream tales of avarice and sloth. Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, laughing cackle their names. Slave religion of the pitiful, lost, choking songs of sorrow and loss, Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, a nesting amongst the graves. |
|||
4. | The Blight of God’s Acre | 06:09 | Show lyrics |
He’s a seaside side-show freak armed with the tools of the trade, standing in shadow by cemetery gates. The revenant tenants of this tenement yard, raise two fingers to the fates. No solace to be found in their foetid tombs, he at leisure to violate those catacomb wombs. Plots twist with hosts yet unwilling. Last sods of earth clawed away, he knows they know what he knows. Polite enough to knock upon the lid of each box, to await their invitation before being so bold, cracked heart stutters in hollow chest so cold. So, sunk deep in festering flesh, their baubles stripped at leisure, Guiltless here, without compassion. Taking pleasure in their corruption. It all gets worse when he finds a fresh one, to be carted off as contraband for the medical profession. So, nefarious urges sated, pockets a-brimming with shining trinkets, he plays at brother Magpie’s games. Heart a flutter of oily black. Leaning back against a monument, heedless of inscription, a stolen cigarette fumbled from a hidden poacher’s pocket. He may yet take a moment to ponder, upon the marble town of Yonder. And maybe just a trice to wonder, why her bone orchard saplings never say a word. And only come out to play, when he requests admission, then assuming rite of passage, in decayed passage ways. So he loads his barrow with the fruits of God’s acre, and all away upon his toes he goes, to shower his bone sore friends in their ivory sewers with gifts all rent asunder. But all willing, unresisting. Spoiled fruits of plunder. |
|||
5. | Man’s Laughter | 03:00 | Show lyrics |
(I don’t want to be left behind here...) | |||
6. | The Underside of Eden | 08:14 | Show lyrics |
There is a fear here. Azrael has a finger on my pulse. His infinity is not so far removed, from the Metatrons’ babbling insanities. Music of the Spheres bouncing, as infinite echoes bickering in this rubber tomb. Whom God helps? None but itself. So if God is death, death is god, yes? There is a fear here. Azrael has a’whispered in my ear. His infinity is not seeking to improve, on the Metatrons’ gabbled profanities. Music of the Spheres receding, as infinite sorrows in this indefinite pause of doom. Whom God helps? None but itself. Signs on this bone-sown road show naught but portents. The angry dead feign smiles as they point the way. Through nothing but rocks just quietly spinning, around lights a’gaining critical mass. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires. |
|||
7. | Gatherer of the Pure | 08:20 | Show lyrics |
He’s a man of the world, but his is a small world, being a world whirled and whipped inside a filth caked skull. All a dalliance in delusion, all dreamed down in narcotic seclusion, he peeps all askance through all and sundry; three dimension unreality his fourth dimension play-day. All eternity a rainy Sunday. He, a builder of worlds in dreams. He, a destroyer of worlds in dreams. Feculent plots / hatch / fester / fry. Subsistence burnt black, effulguent brain pan besmirched. Labours of love ladled into ravenous toilet bowl of life. All lost souls to feat upon fresh hot meal of voided bowel. He, a leacher of colour. He, a void in sanity. A poisoner of the well, instiller of winter’s gray flavour. A spasmed spatter of the obvious, a-soiling gleaming uncertainty. On a lonely wander through twisting streets of Yonder, his one good eye spying, prying, a shadow play for yesterdays. All tomorrows, all yesterdays today, Carrion Crow, pinch-faced proprietor of this sorry sideshow. Roll up, roll up! Crack cranks his codeine calliope, all is vibrant colour without his vermined bone box. All within, bleak nothing - all without to pay homage, at his insistence. Cosmic keys broken in twisting locks of lost infinities. His worlds all a-fire now, a Lucifer turning in listless circles, before landing in the dry hay of thoughts half-remembered. Evensong their last song. Pray for the prey! Sing for your supper! Funeral pyres for one and all today. As hand of God to give, as hand of God to take away. |
|||
8. | Left Behind as Static | 06:43 | Show lyrics |
This life is but an echo of a lost broadcast, our voices and our loves, just as crackles in static. I don’t want to be left behind here; when all my others have become as music... |
|||
9. | Corvus Corona (Part 1) | 03:15 | Show lyrics |
So, he’s hurrying demons from their seats around the circle, hastening to complete that ritual before fraught return of day. All this haste has crowded his cranium, tenanted now by poison voices, relocated revenants roar. White noise blasted black, never again to sleep, silence a distant memory, a mutiny for sanity. |
|||
10. | Corvus Corona (Part 2) | 06:13 | Show lyrics |
He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, a vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - mental ventilation won’t stifle their cries, his futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. [Abyss stares right through him.] Crow’s nest crowded with cackling crew, all staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, a-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. |
|||
11. | Dead Love | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
Oh never weep for love that’s dead Since love is seldom true But changes his fashion from blue to red From brightest red to blue And love was born to an early death And is so seldom true Then harbour no smile on your bonny face To win the deepest sigh The fairest words on truest lips Pass on and surely die And you will stand alone, my dear When wintry winds draw nigh Sweet, never weep for what cannot be For this God has not given If the merest dream of love were true Then, sweet, we should be in heaven And this is only earth, my dear Where true love is not given |
|||
01:08:31 |
A Shadowplay for Yesterdays
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Piano, Percussion, Programming, Synthesizer, Tambourine, Vibraphone, Gong |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Vocals, Guitars, Programming |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars |
Guest/Session | |
Philip Wilcox | Accordion |
Miscellaneous staff | |
The Gentleman | Engineering |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering |
Karolina Szymkiewicz | Artwork |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering |
Grum | Layout, Design |
The Projectionist | Photography |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Directionless Resurrectionist | 03:13 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute, One Miss Crow, who, by force of a certain stranger, had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will. Resulting from this invasion came, an aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name, A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature; to be expelled from the womb in late November. A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow. From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow. He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent, a resident of fantasy, living a life of lament. He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend. Yet his friends were to call him Carrion, the friends inside his head... |
|||
2. | Prey Tell of the Church Fate | 07:27 | Show lyrics |
So we forge onward through lonely valleys of pious pretense. No healthy prophets encountered outside these steely inquisitor’s eyes. No men of any monotone god we could stand proud beside. They and their gilt-riddled baubles cast onto the blazing temple pyres, holy whore houses proudly reduced to ashes of sweetest desecration. Soporific spirits quaffed from dusty, sightless skulls. Strong-heart would not entertain their malady. Weak of will tangled in leprosy. Spiritual sickness babbling incessantly. Babbling Babylon put to the torch. Pinched faces staring through funereal fog, felt flame broiled crook’d hands a’grasp. Ground them to fine dust, snorted them deep. Left coated in confusion, with my lack of sleep. You that seek to encode reality, to defraud sanity - Be damned! You that seek to incarcerate spirit, to calcify astral eyes - Be damned! Be mindful that mind is not you. Be mindful that you are not mind. Be mindful that heart knows how this goes. As real as Azrael? Don’t mind - never mind. Don’t mind - never mind. |
|||
3. | A Prophet for a Pound of Flesh | 10:11 | Show lyrics |
Ugly Christs peer through nailed spaces, flesh ripened on idealist meat hooks. Con-gregation staring in pious devotion, ravenous spirit starved faces, famished minds consuming works of friction, symbols of submission choking scrawny necks. We count spent prophets into filthy begging bowls. Conflagration of the body - see? Do you really see? To kneel lost in venereal veneration, to love their god served rare, savouring their saviour, on their hands and knees. Nowhere to go from here. Golden wine proffered by filthy hosts, micturation as benediction. Washing down the failure, praying for something stronger to take the taste away. Sorry sun god facsimile, not so convincing in the cold light of day. - Jerusalem consumed - Salvation in flash fried defecation, sustaining the soulless to bleat another day. Half baked men of soiled cloth, scream tales of avarice and sloth. Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, laughing cackle their names. Slave religion of the pitiful, lost, choking songs of sorrow and loss, Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, a nesting amongst the graves. |
|||
Side B | |||
4. | The Blight of God’s Acre | 06:09 | Show lyrics |
He’s a seaside side-show freak armed with the tools of the trade, standing in shadow by cemetery gates. The revenant tenants of this tenement yard, raise two fingers to the fates. No solace to be found in their foetid tombs, he at leisure to violate those catacomb wombs. Plots twist with hosts yet unwilling. Last sods of earth clawed away, he knows they know what he knows. Polite enough to knock upon the lid of each box, to await their invitation before being so bold, cracked heart stutters in hollow chest so cold. So, sunk deep in festering flesh, their baubles stripped at leisure, Guiltless here, without compassion. Taking pleasure in their corruption. It all gets worse when he finds a fresh one, to be carted off as contraband for the medical profession. So, nefarious urges sated, pockets a-brimming with shining trinkets, he plays at brother Magpie’s games. Heart a flutter of oily black. Leaning back against a monument, heedless of inscription, a stolen cigarette fumbled from a hidden poacher’s pocket. He may yet take a moment to ponder, upon the marble town of Yonder. And maybe just a trice to wonder, why her bone orchard saplings never say a word. And only come out to play, when he requests admission, then assuming rite of passage, in decayed passage ways. So he loads his barrow with the fruits of God’s acre, and all away upon his toes he goes, to shower his bone sore friends in their ivory sewers with gifts all rent asunder. But all willing, unresisting. Spoiled fruits of plunder. |
|||
5. | Man’s Laughter | 03:00 | Show lyrics |
(I don’t want to be left behind here...) | |||
6. | The Underside of Eden | 08:14 | Show lyrics |
There is a fear here. Azrael has a finger on my pulse. His infinity is not so far removed, from the Metatrons’ babbling insanities. Music of the Spheres bouncing, as infinite echoes bickering in this rubber tomb. Whom God helps? None but itself. So if God is death, death is god, yes? There is a fear here. Azrael has a’whispered in my ear. His infinity is not seeking to improve, on the Metatrons’ gabbled profanities. Music of the Spheres receding, as infinite sorrows in this indefinite pause of doom. Whom God helps? None but itself. Signs on this bone-sown road show naught but portents. The angry dead feign smiles as they point the way. Through nothing but rocks just quietly spinning, around lights a’gaining critical mass. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires. |
|||
38:14 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Gatherer of the Pure | 08:20 | Show lyrics |
He’s a man of the world, but his is a small world, being a world whirled and whipped inside a filth caked skull. All a dalliance in delusion, all dreamed down in narcotic seclusion, he peeps all askance through all and sundry; three dimension unreality his fourth dimension play-day. All eternity a rainy Sunday. He, a builder of worlds in dreams. He, a destroyer of worlds in dreams. Feculent plots / hatch / fester / fry. Subsistence burnt black, effulguent brain pan besmirched. Labours of love ladled into ravenous toilet bowl of life. All lost souls to feat upon fresh hot meal of voided bowel. He, a leacher of colour. He, a void in sanity. A poisoner of the well, instiller of winter’s gray flavour. A spasmed spatter of the obvious, a-soiling gleaming uncertainty. On a lonely wander through twisting streets of Yonder, his one good eye spying, prying, a shadow play for yesterdays. All tomorrows, all yesterdays today, Carrion Crow, pinch-faced proprietor of this sorry sideshow. Roll up, roll up! Crack cranks his codeine calliope, all is vibrant colour without his vermined bone box. All within, bleak nothing - all without to pay homage, at his insistence. Cosmic keys broken in twisting locks of lost infinities. His worlds all a-fire now, a Lucifer turning in listless circles, before landing in the dry hay of thoughts half-remembered. Evensong their last song. Pray for the prey! Sing for your supper! Funeral pyres for one and all today. As hand of God to give, as hand of God to take away. |
|||
2. | Left Behind as Static | 06:43 | Show lyrics |
This life is but an echo of a lost broadcast, our voices and our loves, just as crackles in static. I don’t want to be left behind here; when all my others have become as music... |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | Corvus Corona Part 1 | 03:15 | Show lyrics |
So, he’s hurrying demons from their seats around the circle, hastening to complete that ritual before fraught return of day. All this haste has crowded his cranium, tenanted now by poison voices, relocated revenants roar. White noise blasted black, never again to sleep, silence a distant memory, a mutiny for sanity. |
|||
4. | Corvus Corona Part 2 | 06:13 | Show lyrics |
He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, a vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - mental ventilation won’t stifle their cries, his futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. [Abyss stares right through him.] Crow’s nest crowded with cackling crew, all staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, a-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. |
|||
5. | Dead Love | 05:46 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
30:17 |
A Shadowplay for Yesterdays
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Piano, Percussion, Programming, Synthesizer, Tambourine, Vibraphone, Gong |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Vocals, Guitars, Programming |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars |
Guest/Session | |
Philip Wilcox | Accordion |
Miscellaneous staff | |
The Gentleman | Engineering |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering |
Karolina Szymkiewicz | Artwork |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering |
Grum | Layout, Design |
The Projectionist | Photography |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 (CD) | |||
1. | Directionless Resurrectionist | 03:13 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute, One Miss Crow, who, by force of a certain stranger, had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will. Resulting from this invasion came, an aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name, A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature; to be expelled from the womb in late November. A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow. From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow. He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent, a resident of fantasy, living a life of lament. He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend. Yet his friends were to call him Carrion, the friends inside his head... |
|||
2. | Prey Tell of the Church Fate | 07:27 | Show lyrics |
So we forge onward through lonely valleys of pious pretense. No healthy prophets encountered outside these steely inquisitor’s eyes. No men of any monotone god we could stand proud beside. They and their gilt-riddled baubles cast onto the blazing temple pyres, holy whore houses proudly reduced to ashes of sweetest desecration. Soporific spirits quaffed from dusty, sightless skulls. Strong-heart would not entertain their malady. Weak of will tangled in leprosy. Spiritual sickness babbling incessantly. Babbling Babylon put to the torch. Pinched faces staring through funereal fog, felt flame broiled crook’d hands a’grasp. Ground them to fine dust, snorted them deep. Left coated in confusion, with my lack of sleep. You that seek to encode reality, to defraud sanity - Be damned! You that seek to incarcerate spirit, to calcify astral eyes - Be damned! Be mindful that mind is not you. Be mindful that you are not mind. Be mindful that heart knows how this goes. As real as Azrael? Don’t mind - never mind. Don’t mind - never mind. |
|||
3. | A Prophet for a Pound of Flesh | 10:11 | Show lyrics |
Ugly Christs peer through nailed spaces, flesh ripened on idealist meat hooks. Con-gregation staring in pious devotion, ravenous spirit starved faces, famished minds consuming works of friction, symbols of submission choking scrawny necks. We count spent prophets into filthy begging bowls. Conflagration of the body - see? Do you really see? To kneel lost in venereal veneration, to love their god served rare, savouring their saviour, on their hands and knees. Nowhere to go from here. Golden wine proffered by filthy hosts, micturation as benediction. Washing down the failure, praying for something stronger to take the taste away. Sorry sun god facsimile, not so convincing in the cold light of day. - Jerusalem consumed - Salvation in flash fried defecation, sustaining the soulless to bleat another day. Half baked men of soiled cloth, scream tales of avarice and sloth. Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, laughing cackle their names. Slave religion of the pitiful, lost, choking songs of sorrow and loss, Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, a nesting amongst the graves. |
|||
4. | The Blight of God’s Acre | 06:09 | Show lyrics |
He’s a seaside side-show freak armed with the tools of the trade, standing in shadow by cemetery gates. The revenant tenants of this tenement yard, raise two fingers to the fates. No solace to be found in their foetid tombs, he at leisure to violate those catacomb wombs. Plots twist with hosts yet unwilling. Last sods of earth clawed away, he knows they know what he knows. Polite enough to knock upon the lid of each box, to await their invitation before being so bold, cracked heart stutters in hollow chest so cold. So, sunk deep in festering flesh, their baubles stripped at leisure, Guiltless here, without compassion. Taking pleasure in their corruption. It all gets worse when he finds a fresh one, to be carted off as contraband for the medical profession. So, nefarious urges sated, pockets a-brimming with shining trinkets, he plays at brother Magpie’s games. Heart a flutter of oily black. Leaning back against a monument, heedless of inscription, a stolen cigarette fumbled from a hidden poacher’s pocket. He may yet take a moment to ponder, upon the marble town of Yonder. And maybe just a trice to wonder, why her bone orchard saplings never say a word. And only come out to play, when he requests admission, then assuming rite of passage, in decayed passage ways. So he loads his barrow with the fruits of God’s acre, and all away upon his toes he goes, to shower his bone sore friends in their ivory sewers with gifts all rent asunder. But all willing, unresisting. Spoiled fruits of plunder. |
|||
5. | Man’s Laughter | 03:00 | Show lyrics |
(I don’t want to be left behind here...) | |||
6. | The Underside of Eden | 08:14 | Show lyrics |
There is a fear here. Azrael has a finger on my pulse. His infinity is not so far removed, from the Metatrons’ babbling insanities. Music of the Spheres bouncing, as infinite echoes bickering in this rubber tomb. Whom God helps? None but itself. So if God is death, death is god, yes? There is a fear here. Azrael has a’whispered in my ear. His infinity is not seeking to improve, on the Metatrons’ gabbled profanities. Music of the Spheres receding, as infinite sorrows in this indefinite pause of doom. Whom God helps? None but itself. Signs on this bone-sown road show naught but portents. The angry dead feign smiles as they point the way. Through nothing but rocks just quietly spinning, around lights a’gaining critical mass. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires. |
|||
7. | Gatherer of the Pure | 08:20 | Show lyrics |
He’s a man of the world, but his is a small world, being a world whirled and whipped inside a filth caked skull. All a dalliance in delusion, all dreamed down in narcotic seclusion, he peeps all askance through all and sundry; three dimension unreality his fourth dimension play-day. All eternity a rainy Sunday. He, a builder of worlds in dreams. He, a destroyer of worlds in dreams. Feculent plots / hatch / fester / fry. Subsistence burnt black, effulguent brain pan besmirched. Labours of love ladled into ravenous toilet bowl of life. All lost souls to feat upon fresh hot meal of voided bowel. He, a leacher of colour. He, a void in sanity. A poisoner of the well, instiller of winter’s gray flavour. A spasmed spatter of the obvious, a-soiling gleaming uncertainty. On a lonely wander through twisting streets of Yonder, his one good eye spying, prying, a shadow play for yesterdays. All tomorrows, all yesterdays today, Carrion Crow, pinch-faced proprietor of this sorry sideshow. Roll up, roll up! Crack cranks his codeine calliope, all is vibrant colour without his vermined bone box. All within, bleak nothing - all without to pay homage, at his insistence. Cosmic keys broken in twisting locks of lost infinities. His worlds all a-fire now, a Lucifer turning in listless circles, before landing in the dry hay of thoughts half-remembered. Evensong their last song. Pray for the prey! Sing for your supper! Funeral pyres for one and all today. As hand of God to give, as hand of God to take away. |
|||
8. | Left Behind as Static | 06:43 | Show lyrics |
This life is but an echo of a lost broadcast, our voices and our loves, just as crackles in static. I don’t want to be left behind here; when all my others have become as music... |
|||
9. | Corvus Corona (Part 1) | 03:15 | Show lyrics |
So, he’s hurrying demons from their seats around the circle, hastening to complete that ritual before fraught return of day. All this haste has crowded his cranium, tenanted now by poison voices, relocated revenants roar. White noise blasted black, never again to sleep, silence a distant memory, a mutiny for sanity. |
|||
10. | Corvus Corona (Part 2) | 06:13 | Show lyrics |
He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, a vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - mental ventilation won’t stifle their cries, his futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. [Abyss stares right through him.] Crow’s nest crowded with cackling crew, all staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, a-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. |
|||
11. | Dead Love | 05:46 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
01:08:31 | |||
Disc 2 (CD) | |||
1. | Herne (Clannad cover) | 07:45 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | She’s in Parties (Bauhaus cover) | 10:44 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
18:29 | |||
Disc 3 (DVD) | |||
1. | Gatherer of the Pure (Animated Feature) | 09:08 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
09:08 |
A Shadowplay for Yesterdays
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Piano, Percussion, Programming, Synthesizer, Tambourine, Vibraphone, Gong |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Vocals, Guitars, Programming |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Sir Gastrix Grimshaw | Guitars |
Guest/Session | |
Philip Wilcox | Accordion |
Miscellaneous staff | |
The Gentleman | Engineering |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Engineering, Mixing, Mastering |
Karolina Szymkiewicz | Artwork |
Mr Robert Hobson | Engineering |
Grum | Layout, Design |
The Projectionist | Photography |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Directionless Resurrectionist | 03:13 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there was a lady of no repute, One Miss Crow, who, by force of a certain stranger, had engaged in violent night-time actions, against her very will. Resulting from this invasion came, an aberration of desperation, a horror in all but name, A stoop-backed boy, short of stature, violent by nature; to be expelled from the womb in late November. A fast track to sorrow in a world bred slow. From foetid seed, a poison tree with a venomous bark did grow. He was to work all the hours his sorry god sent, a resident of fantasy, living a life of lament. He was to have no living lovers, no-one on who to depend. Yet his friends were to call him Carrion, the friends inside his head... |
|||
2. | Prey Tell of the Church Fate | 07:27 | Show lyrics |
So we forge onward through lonely valleys of pious pretense. No healthy prophets encountered outside these steely inquisitor’s eyes. No men of any monotone god we could stand proud beside. They and their gilt-riddled baubles cast onto the blazing temple pyres, holy whore houses proudly reduced to ashes of sweetest desecration. Soporific spirits quaffed from dusty, sightless skulls. Strong-heart would not entertain their malady. Weak of will tangled in leprosy. Spiritual sickness babbling incessantly. Babbling Babylon put to the torch. Pinched faces staring through funereal fog, felt flame broiled crook’d hands a’grasp. Ground them to fine dust, snorted them deep. Left coated in confusion, with my lack of sleep. You that seek to encode reality, to defraud sanity - Be damned! You that seek to incarcerate spirit, to calcify astral eyes - Be damned! Be mindful that mind is not you. Be mindful that you are not mind. Be mindful that heart knows how this goes. As real as Azrael? Don’t mind - never mind. Don’t mind - never mind. |
|||
3. | A Prophet for a Pound of Flesh | 10:11 | Show lyrics |
Ugly Christs peer through nailed spaces, flesh ripened on idealist meat hooks. Con-gregation staring in pious devotion, ravenous spirit starved faces, famished minds consuming works of friction, symbols of submission choking scrawny necks. We count spent prophets into filthy begging bowls. Conflagration of the body - see? Do you really see? To kneel lost in venereal veneration, to love their god served rare, savouring their saviour, on their hands and knees. Nowhere to go from here. Golden wine proffered by filthy hosts, micturation as benediction. Washing down the failure, praying for something stronger to take the taste away. Sorry sun god facsimile, not so convincing in the cold light of day. - Jerusalem consumed - Salvation in flash fried defecation, sustaining the soulless to bleat another day. Half baked men of soiled cloth, scream tales of avarice and sloth. Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, laughing cackle their names. Slave religion of the pitiful, lost, choking songs of sorrow and loss, Four and twenty corpse fed crows, untamed, a nesting amongst the graves. |
|||
4. | The Blight of God’s Acre | 06:09 | Show lyrics |
He’s a seaside side-show freak armed with the tools of the trade, standing in shadow by cemetery gates. The revenant tenants of this tenement yard, raise two fingers to the fates. No solace to be found in their foetid tombs, he at leisure to violate those catacomb wombs. Plots twist with hosts yet unwilling. Last sods of earth clawed away, he knows they know what he knows. Polite enough to knock upon the lid of each box, to await their invitation before being so bold, cracked heart stutters in hollow chest so cold. So, sunk deep in festering flesh, their baubles stripped at leisure, Guiltless here, without compassion. Taking pleasure in their corruption. It all gets worse when he finds a fresh one, to be carted off as contraband for the medical profession. So, nefarious urges sated, pockets a-brimming with shining trinkets, he plays at brother Magpie’s games. Heart a flutter of oily black. Leaning back against a monument, heedless of inscription, a stolen cigarette fumbled from a hidden poacher’s pocket. He may yet take a moment to ponder, upon the marble town of Yonder. And maybe just a trice to wonder, why her bone orchard saplings never say a word. And only come out to play, when he requests admission, then assuming rite of passage, in decayed passage ways. So he loads his barrow with the fruits of God’s acre, and all away upon his toes he goes, to shower his bone sore friends in their ivory sewers with gifts all rent asunder. But all willing, unresisting. Spoiled fruits of plunder. |
|||
5. | Man’s Laughter | 03:00 | Show lyrics |
(I don’t want to be left behind here...) | |||
6. | The Underside of Eden | 08:14 | Show lyrics |
There is a fear here. Azrael has a finger on my pulse. His infinity is not so far removed, from the Metatrons’ babbling insanities. Music of the Spheres bouncing, as infinite echoes bickering in this rubber tomb. Whom God helps? None but itself. So if God is death, death is god, yes? There is a fear here. Azrael has a’whispered in my ear. His infinity is not seeking to improve, on the Metatrons’ gabbled profanities. Music of the Spheres receding, as infinite sorrows in this indefinite pause of doom. Whom God helps? None but itself. Signs on this bone-sown road show naught but portents. The angry dead feign smiles as they point the way. Through nothing but rocks just quietly spinning, around lights a’gaining critical mass. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires, but no cleansing here. It is all fires. |
|||
7. | Gatherer of the Pure | 08:20 | Show lyrics |
He’s a man of the world, but his is a small world, being a world whirled and whipped inside a filth caked skull. All a dalliance in delusion, all dreamed down in narcotic seclusion, he peeps all askance through all and sundry; three dimension unreality his fourth dimension play-day. All eternity a rainy Sunday. He, a builder of worlds in dreams. He, a destroyer of worlds in dreams. Feculent plots / hatch / fester / fry. Subsistence burnt black, effulguent brain pan besmirched. Labours of love ladled into ravenous toilet bowl of life. All lost souls to feat upon fresh hot meal of voided bowel. He, a leacher of colour. He, a void in sanity. A poisoner of the well, instiller of winter’s gray flavour. A spasmed spatter of the obvious, a-soiling gleaming uncertainty. On a lonely wander through twisting streets of Yonder, his one good eye spying, prying, a shadow play for yesterdays. All tomorrows, all yesterdays today, Carrion Crow, pinch-faced proprietor of this sorry sideshow. Roll up, roll up! Crack cranks his codeine calliope, all is vibrant colour without his vermined bone box. All within, bleak nothing - all without to pay homage, at his insistence. Cosmic keys broken in twisting locks of lost infinities. His worlds all a-fire now, a Lucifer turning in listless circles, before landing in the dry hay of thoughts half-remembered. Evensong their last song. Pray for the prey! Sing for your supper! Funeral pyres for one and all today. As hand of God to give, as hand of God to take away. |
|||
8. | Left Behind as Static | 06:43 | Show lyrics |
This life is but an echo of a lost broadcast, our voices and our loves, just as crackles in static. I don’t want to be left behind here; when all my others have become as music... |
|||
9. | Corvus Corona (Part 1) | 03:15 | Show lyrics |
So, he’s hurrying demons from their seats around the circle, hastening to complete that ritual before fraught return of day. All this haste has crowded his cranium, tenanted now by poison voices, relocated revenants roar. White noise blasted black, never again to sleep, silence a distant memory, a mutiny for sanity. |
|||
10. | Corvus Corona (Part 2) | 06:13 | Show lyrics |
He enlists an able deck-hand to wield the drill, a vortex in his cortex to release his will. As spiral enters he spins out of control. All magic circles under those eyes - mental ventilation won’t stifle their cries, his futility belt all crowded with spies. His one good eye now all a ghastly squint, head held together with sorrow and spit. So much haste, too much speed, spasm-tongued sermon decreed; I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. ... a malady on the mainline... A man of inaction, a greyer of shades. Prey to twisting frequencies with whom he once played. Wild of eye and long in tooth, lies all that are left for our seeker of truth. A stoop-backed, sad sack, all thoughts side-tracked. Onrush of water through compromised hull. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. [Abyss stares right through him.] Crow’s nest crowded with cackling crew, all staring faces peering straight through. Leering out of this unwitting host, a-raising the black sails and floating his ghost. I opened my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I opened my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. I shuttered my eyes and I stared right through my photographs of you. I shuttered my eyes and I choked out through my memory of faith. |
|||
11. | Dead Love | 05:47 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
01:08:32 |
Beware the Sword You Cannot See
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Guitars |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Violin, Flute |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Producer, Engineering |
The Gentleman | Engineering (additional) |
Mr Robert Hobson | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
Mr Alex CF | Artwork |
Grum | Layout, Design |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Drawing Down the Rain | 09:31 | Show lyrics |
I can hear them ranting. Like a choir of angels, those cunts. Not singing nor dancing here; All eyes down for the casting. Spell trough scraped dry. Practising our sincerest sorrows; All full faced to the grind of stone. The drag of that inert through toil of chained wrought sinew. Ragged faces turned up to the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Drawing down the rain. Drawing down. All our ears are open / all our eyes are smiling Gracelessly receiving empty threats of heaven. As grist to and from these dark Satanic mills. A barren wasteland dreamt through streets of prescription mist. There is no attenuating this. No attenuating this. Holes in the heart of this city. Holes. Drawing down the rain. Heaven calling; calling through sewer-gratings. |
|||
2. | Hive Mindless | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. WITCH! Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to! Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens Raise a glass to the face of the past He who Dares, well he doesn’t always win. Crescendo or something to usher the past in. All a’jolt to the march half thought; sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught. All a’limbs a’roll, a’howl; roll these bones down, funerary style. All who wonder. All a’twitch. Ride the dreaded cliché switch. We belong dead. Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. Gather round, gather round, gasp the dust from my bones, snort your derision, dance the jitter dance encrusted with bugs. Listening in to your silence, distorting dial-tone / white noise waiting list. Rolling these bones against the door to halt the grating whistling of the wind. Grating whistling of the wind. |
|||
3. | A Blaze of Hammers | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Fuck you and the worms you rode in on. This double vision is dividing all thought. If this cortex is remotely cerebral, I’ll eat the mind from under your hat. Once in separation, all eyes all over the place. These place. These place. These place. Never quite sure whether I fear to tread. Or just quite where to tread. There is no product that can shine this condition; though the colour running through these streets is a shite to behold I’ll tell you. Ride the worms with me. If all is soil of creation and all our every particle, all intermingled is but a happy dust storm, waiting to disappear up a willing god’s nose - then where should the faithful stand? I suppose it’s irrelevant to a grain of sand. How are beings of pure sound to retune their nervous wreckage A golden ratio of broken radios / twists, ticks and twitches Into the frequency that tunes us all? Universal note, no, no - ground black. Distortion / Spirit contortion. Attenuator twisted hard right. Spit-balled through the night. All spirit full volume. Silence sold out to the man, man. In flux with transcendence. To rise above material putrescence? A blaze of hammers from the skies Race your corpse and aim heart high. Ride the worms with me. |
|||
4. | Virtus Sola Invicta | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Some of my favourite messiahs are dead. You may perhaps be nervous that the endings are wearing thin. So much grist for so many mills. So little point in taking offence. I’ve rolled with all the punches, and not even come up drunk. Danced around the guiding lights, got perhaps a little lost in the dazzle of lamps. Riding the head wind through Shangri-la, HA! Aghast in Agharta, a shambolic frolic in Shamballah. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. The accused are great in number, though if you’d kind enough to line them up, I could find it in me to fire the shots. Temples holed by misplaced homily. Nails all lined up to support heads lording over spikes of infamy. Your alter-ego can dig the pit. Then, once it’s lined with silent bones, we can stir the ghosts around. Perhaps take their powder as salve. Though it’ll perish your thoughts, I’ll tell you. Curiosity pushed you in, face first on top of all the others. So let’s roll the old worm ball down another cerebral hill, Bone over wire / racing the funeral pyre. All wild eyed, world weary. Twisted trees tearing the heart out of Eden. Final resting places soiled as if on queue by those dragging their mean feet, enduring the wait before you. Lightning breaks against the cortex. Rolled into the hole to taste the old face down. A twelve foot round-trip to your discredit. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. Down drains world-weary. |
|||
5. | Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs | 07:18 | Show lyrics |
Face down in the dust of their blasted utopia razors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lines eyes brimming with chemical repulse nostrils crusted with manifold millennia of dried up mortification ...of spiritual fabrication. inhaling the future, new orifices torn for those sexless angels. Strength of Will hammered flat by biological circumstance cells forming the biggest cell of all; body of death, true burden. My opiate naïve autumn putting a gleam to your sycophant summer like so much make believe Throw in your hands for the abyssal disco. All the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holes. All’s about to snap / spring has sprung on the christ trap. In fact, we’ll do worse than put a match to your faces. We’ll have your writhing, you cunts. Do you hear? All you monotheists born from the dust of deserts. Myth piled upon myth / spiritual plague pit. Seething maggot balls / fuel for future tombs Twisting mass a’roil with turning worms. Keep your maggots away from my soul. I’m willing to risk an aneurysm if you’ll just shut up and wait in line. Just impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farce; Glance around for the shroud. How’s your fitting? Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Down amongst the dead. All our graves walked all over. |
|||
6. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 1: Mindslide) | 02:21 | Show lyrics |
Fear - here again, now I know - far away All that this was - not at peace. Watch the dawn, all is grey. Images gone - here again; Now I know - far away. All of this was; not at peace. Watched the dawn; all is grey. The image is gone. Not at peace - not me. Bitter end. Not peace; descend; is gone. I know. Once again. Adrift in mould. |
|||
7. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 2: Have You Got a Light, Boy?) | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Are you a little lost, robot? To terminate? Stay resident? To dance drawn down with the shades whilst suffocating the dawn? He said ’Let there be light’. Oh, and there WAS light. ’Let there be light’, he said. And oh, how we laughed. |
|||
8. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 3: Perdurabo) | 03:20 | Show lyrics |
When you breathe me / can you release me From this death infested maze of cold? One eye open; nine days hung against nine nights. One eye open / one eye dark. I will endure. All father. Freight of the universe eye please guide me. Nine days to hang against the dark here. Spilled glistening across the gaoled way. The new way. Crutches raised against the face of fear. Can you see through the fast approaching dawn? Find a way to beat the universal chessboard you miserable pawn? Royal blew it. Face down amongst it all / scraped from the boot of old king cold just so much detritus for nowhere. I am not the way. Not the truth nor the light. Caught up in the same barbs, we are. No chemical solutions. Building rainbow bridges / pain railed against the dark. Old world, same disorder. |
|||
9. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 4: An Automaton Adrift) | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
Birthed across nowhere to ride the moon through phases. Fazed in phases rolling nervous / lunar tick patchwork cut and paste parchments to feed faith’s guttering furnace. A cracked clock face nervously ticking away the night. Carbon back to carbon back to repetition upon repetition Repeat. After me. Are you a little lost, robot? take my hand now, let us remain astray. No more invisible chains for this wolf, I can tell you. Howling with the moon whilst riding its decline. Waning not waxing, as ever. Have you a penny to gird the carny man wasted among your secrets? Tiring out cliché upon secret? My hands are tied here; but the one mind is held by no head. Heart leading that blind down bone-raw pathways. Once we’ve devoured the sun and all is said and done, no more paths to navigate; silence our cell mate riding the whirling serpent across bleak skylines; Watching as the final worm turns and turns and turns ...turns and turns. There was light. |
|||
10. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 5: Lowly Worm) | 02:12 | Show lyrics |
Children of the moon, sky high against the day. A script half-written won’t remind. Rainbows jostled, skylines torn. Witches burn beneath us. So polish up your best shoes / walk in line beside sorrow - supplication lost behind. Hitching our throats like tin cans behind this universal hearse. Back against the wall. Rictus grin must bear it. To take the pain and gatecrash my own wake. To ride them all through the black time, Jormungandr. To stare unblinking through hollow face of Death. Whirling worlds, nucleus sun to disappear down frozen gullet of Fenris wolf. Hammer waits to fall. |
|||
11. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 6: Let There Be No Light) | 05:14 | Show lyrics |
Smashed across the windscreen of the sky / that’s all we’ve ever been Lost amongst the fading stars / that’s all we’ve ever been Stood aghast as all the light blinks out / that’s all we’ve ever been Just dragging hidden chains of silence / all that’s ever been. |
|||
59:18 |
Beware the Sword You Cannot See
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Violin, Flute |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Guitars |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Grum | Layout, Design |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Producer, Engineering |
Mr Robert Hobson | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
The Gentleman | Engineering (additional) |
Mr Alex CF | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 - Beware the Sword You Cannot See | |||
1. | Drawing Down the Rain | 09:31 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Hive Mindless | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | A Blaze of Hammers | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Fuck you and the worms you rode in on. This double vision is dividing all thought. If this cortex is remotely cerebral, I’ll eat the mind from under your hat. Once in separation, all eyes all over the place. These place. These place. These place. Never quite sure whether I fear to tread. Or just quite where to tread. There is no product that can shine this condition; though the colour running through these streets is a shite to behold I’ll tell you. Ride the worms with me. If all is soil of creation and all our every particle, all intermingled is but a happy dust storm, waiting to disappear up a willing god’s nose - then where should the faithful stand? I suppose it’s irrelevant to a grain of sand. How are beings of pure sound to retune their nervous wreckage A golden ratio of broken radios / twists, ticks and twitches Into the frequency that tunes us all? Universal note, no, no – ground black. Distortion / Spirit contortion. Attenuator twisted hard right. Spit-balled through the night. All spirit full volume. Silence sold out to the man, man. In flux with transcendence. To rise above material putrescence? A blaze of hammers from the skies Race your corpse and aim heart high. Ride the worms with me. |
|||
4. | Virtus Sola Invicta | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs | 07:18 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 1: Mindslide) | 02:21 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 2: Have You Got a Light, Boy?) | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
8. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 3: Perdurabo) | 03:20 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 4: An Automaton Adrift) | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
Birthed across nowhere to ride the moon through phases. Fazed in phases rolling nervous / lunar tick patchwork cut and paste parchments to feed faith/s guttering furnace. A cracked clock face nervously ticking away the night. Carbon back to carbon back to repetition upon repetition Repeat. After me. Are you a little lost, robot? Take my hand now, let us remain astray. No more invisible chains for this wold, I can tell you. Howling with the moon whilst riding its decline. Waning not waxing, as ever. Have you a penny to gird the carny man wasted amongst your secrets? Tiring out cliché upon secret? My hands are tied here; but the one mind is held by no head. Heart leading that blind down bone-raw pathways. Once we’ve devoured the sun and all is said and done, no more paths to navigate; silence out cell mate riding the whirling serpent across bleak skylines; watching as the final worm turns and turns and turns …turns and turns There was light. |
|||
10. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 5: Lowly Worm) | 02:12 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
11. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 6: Let There Be No Light) | 05:14 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
59:18 | |||
Disc 2 - Valley of Desolation | |||
1. | Gestation | 02:23 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Catafalque Caravan Quandary | 05:13 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
3. | Plastic Patriarch Lynch Squad (Enduring December) | 06:24 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
14:00 |
Beware the Sword You Cannot See
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Violin, Flute |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Guitars |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Grum | Layout, Design |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Producer, Engineering |
Mr Robert Hobson | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
The Gentleman | Engineering (additional) |
Mr Alex CF | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Drawing Down the Rain | 09:31 | Show lyrics |
I can hear them ranting. Like a choir of angels, those cunts. Not singing nor dancing here; All eyes down for the casting. Spell trough scraped dry. Practising our sincerest sorrows; All full faced to the grind of stone. The drag of that inert through toil of chained wrought sinew. Ragged faces turned up to the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Drawing down the rain. Drawing down. All our ears are open / all our eyes are smiling Gracelessly receiving empty threats of heaven. As grist to and from these dark Satanic mills. A barren wasteland dreamt through streets of prescription mist. There is no attenuating this. No attenuating this. Holes in the heart of this city. Holes. Drawing down the rain. Heaven calling; calling through sewer-gratings. |
|||
2. | Hive Mindless | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. WITCH! Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to! Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens Raise a glass to the face of the past He who Dares, well he doesn’t always win. Crescendo or something to usher the past in. All a’jolt to the march half thought; sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught. All a’limbs a’roll, a’howl; roll these bones down, funerary style. All who wonder. All a’twitch. Ride the dreaded cliché switch. We belong dead. Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. Gather round, gather round, gasp the dust from my bones, snort your derision, dance the jitter dance encrusted with bugs. Listening in to your silence, distorting dial-tone / white noise waiting list. Rolling these bones against the door to halt the grating whistling of the wind. Grating whistling of the wind. |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | A Blaze of Hammers | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Fuck you and the worms you rode in on. This double vision is dividing all thought. If this cortex is remotely cerebral, I’ll eat the mind from under your hat. Once in separation, all eyes all over the place. These place. These place. These place. Never quite sure whether I fear to tread. Or just quite where to tread. There is no product that can shine this condition; though the colour running through these streets is a shite to behold I’ll tell you. Ride the worms with me. If all is soil of creation and all our every particle, all intermingled is but a happy dust storm, waiting to disappear up a willing god’s nose - then where should the faithful stand? I suppose it’s irrelevant to a grain of sand. How are beings of pure sound to retune their nervous wreckage A golden ratio of broken radios / twists, ticks and twitches Into the frequency that tunes us all? Universal note, no, no - ground black. Distortion / Spirit contortion. Attenuator twisted hard right. Spit-balled through the night. All spirit full volume. Silence sold out to the man, man. In flux with transcendence. To rise above material putrescence? A blaze of hammers from the skies Race your corpse and aim heart high. Ride the worms with me. |
|||
4. | Virtus Sola Invicta | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Some of my favourite messiahs are dead. You may perhaps be nervous that the endings are wearing thin. So much grist for so many mills. So little point in taking offence. I’ve rolled with all the punches, and not even come up drunk. Danced around the guiding lights, got perhaps a little lost in the dazzle of lamps. Riding the head wind through Shangri-la, HA! Aghast in Agharta, a shambolic frolic in Shamballah. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. The accused are great in number, though if you’d kind enough to line them up, I could find it in me to fire the shots. Temples holed by misplaced homily. Nails all lined up to support heads lording over spikes of infamy. Your alter-ego can dig the pit. Then, once it’s lined with silent bones, we can stir the ghosts around. Perhaps take their powder as salve. Though it’ll perish your thoughts, I’ll tell you. Curiosity pushed you in, face first on top of all the others. So let’s roll the old worm ball down another cerebral hill, Bone over wire / racing the funeral pyre. All wild eyed, world weary. Twisted trees tearing the heart out of Eden. Final resting places soiled as if on queue by those dragging their mean feet, enduring the wait before you. Lightning breaks against the cortex. Rolled into the hole to taste the old face down. A twelve foot round-trip to your discredit. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. Down drains world-weary. |
|||
5. | Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs | 07:18 | Show lyrics |
Face down in the dust of their blasted utopia razors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lines eyes brimming with chemical repulse nostrils crusted with manifold millennia of dried up mortification ...of spiritual fabrication. inhaling the future, new orifices torn for those sexless angels. Strength of Will hammered flat by biological circumstance cells forming the biggest cell of all; body of death, true burden. My opiate naïve autumn putting a gleam to your sycophant summer like so much make believe Throw in your hands for the abyssal disco. All the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holes. All’s about to snap / spring has sprung on the christ trap. In fact, we’ll do worse than put a match to your faces. We’ll have your writhing, you cunts. Do you hear? All you monotheists born from the dust of deserts. Myth piled upon myth / spiritual plague pit. Seething maggot balls / fuel for future tombs Twisting mass a’roil with turning worms. Keep your maggots away from my soul. I’m willing to risk an aneurysm if you’ll just shut up and wait in line. Just impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farce; Glance around for the shroud. How’s your fitting? Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Down amongst the dead. All our graves walked all over. |
|||
38:00 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Single-sided | |||
1. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 1: Mindslide) | 02:21 | Show lyrics |
Fear - here again, now I know - far away All that this was - not at peace. Watch the dawn, all is grey. Images gone - here again; Now I know - far away. All of this was; not at peace. Watched the dawn; all is grey. The image is gone. Not at peace - not me. Bitter end. Not peace; descend; is gone. I know. Once again. Adrift in mould. |
|||
2. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 2: Have You Got a Light, Boy?) | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Are you a little lost, robot? To terminate? Stay resident? To dance drawn down with the shades whilst suffocating the dawn? He said ’Let there be light’. Oh, and there WAS light. ’Let there be light’, he said. And oh, how we laughed. |
|||
3. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 3: Perdurabo) | 03:20 | Show lyrics |
When you breathe me / can you release me From this death infested maze of cold? One eye open; nine days hung against nine nights. One eye open / one eye dark. I will endure. All father. Freight of the universe eye please guide me. Nine days to hang against the dark here. Spilled glistening across the gaoled way. The new way. Crutches raised against the face of fear. Can you see through the fast approaching dawn? Find a way to beat the universal chessboard you miserable pawn? Royal blew it. Face down amongst it all / scraped from the boot of old king cold just so much detritus for nowhere. I am not the way. Not the truth nor the light. Caught up in the same barbs, we are. No chemical solutions. Building rainbow bridges / pain railed against the dark. Old world, same disorder. |
|||
4. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 4: An Automaton Adrift) | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
Birthed across nowhere to ride the moon through phases. Fazed in phases rolling nervous / lunar tick patchwork cut and paste parchments to feed faith’s guttering furnace. A cracked clock face nervously ticking away the night. Carbon back to carbon back to repetition upon repetition Repeat. After me. Are you a little lost, robot? take my hand now, let us remain astray. No more invisible chains for this wolf, I can tell you. Howling with the moon whilst riding its decline. Waning not waxing, as ever. Have you a penny to gird the carny man wasted among your secrets? Tiring out cliché upon secret? My hands are tied here; but the one mind is held by no head. Heart leading that blind down bone-raw pathways. Once we’ve devoured the sun and all is said and done, no more paths to navigate; silence our cell mate riding the whirling serpent across bleak skylines; Watching as the final worm turns and turns and turns ...turns and turns. There was light. |
|||
5. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 5: Lowly Worm) | 02:12 | Show lyrics |
Children of the moon, sky high against the day. A script half-written won’t remind. Rainbows jostled, skylines torn. Witches burn beneath us. So polish up your best shoes / walk in line beside sorrow - supplication lost behind. Hitching our throats like tin cans behind this universal hearse. Back against the wall. Rictus grin must bear it. To take the pain and gatecrash my own wake. To ride them all through the black time, Jormungandr. To stare unblinking through hollow face of Death. Whirling worlds, nucleus sun to disappear down frozen gullet of Fenris wolf. Hammer waits to fall. |
|||
6. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 6: Let There Be No Light) | 05:14 | Show lyrics |
Smashed across the windscreen of the sky / that’s all we’ve ever been Lost amongst the fading stars / that’s all we’ve ever been Stood aghast as all the light blinks out / that’s all we’ve ever been Just dragging hidden chains of silence / all that’s ever been. |
|||
21:18 |
Beware the Sword You Cannot See
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Vocals, Guitars |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Violin, Flute |
The Gentleman | Keyboards, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Guitars |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Grum | Layout, Design |
Henry Hyde Bronsdon | Producer, Engineering |
Mr Robert Hobson | Producer, Mixing, Mastering |
The Gentleman | Engineering (additional) |
Mr Alex CF | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Drawing Down the Rain | 09:31 | Show lyrics |
I can hear them ranting. Like a choir of angels, those cunts. Not singing nor dancing here; All eyes down for the casting. Spell trough scraped dry. Practising our sincerest sorrows; All full faced to the grind of stone. The drag of that inert through toil of chained wrought sinew. Ragged faces turned up to the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Staring down; drawing down the rain. Drawing down the rain. Drawing down. All our ears are open / all our eyes are smiling Gracelessly receiving empty threats of heaven. As grist to and from these dark Satanic mills. A barren wasteland dreamt through streets of prescription mist. There is no attenuating this. No attenuating this. Holes in the heart of this city. Holes. Drawing down the rain. Heaven calling; calling through sewer-gratings. |
|||
2. | Hive Mindless | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. WITCH! Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to! Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens Raise a glass to the face of the past He who Dares, well he doesn’t always win. Crescendo or something to usher the past in. All a’jolt to the march half thought; sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught. All a’limbs a’roll, a’howl; roll these bones down, funerary style. All who wonder. All a’twitch. Ride the dreaded cliché switch. We belong dead. Yeah, so my skull’s just a coffin for the corpse of my brain. Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain. Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes. Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies. Gather round, gather round, gasp the dust from my bones, snort your derision, dance the jitter dance encrusted with bugs. Listening in to your silence, distorting dial-tone / white noise waiting list. Rolling these bones against the door to halt the grating whistling of the wind. Grating whistling of the wind. |
|||
3. | A Blaze of Hammers | 07:28 | Show lyrics |
Fuck you and the worms you rode in on. This double vision is dividing all thought. If this cortex is remotely cerebral, I’ll eat the mind from under your hat. Once in separation, all eyes all over the place. These place. These place. These place. Never quite sure whether I fear to tread. Or just quite where to tread. There is no product that can shine this condition; though the colour running through these streets is a shite to behold I’ll tell you. Ride the worms with me. If all is soil of creation and all our every particle, all intermingled is but a happy dust storm, waiting to disappear up a willing god’s nose - then where should the faithful stand? I suppose it’s irrelevant to a grain of sand. How are beings of pure sound to retune their nervous wreckage A golden ratio of broken radios / twists, ticks and twitches Into the frequency that tunes us all? Universal note, no, no - ground black. Distortion / Spirit contortion. Attenuator twisted hard right. Spit-balled through the night. All spirit full volume. Silence sold out to the man, man. In flux with transcendence. To rise above material putrescence? A blaze of hammers from the skies Race your corpse and aim heart high. Ride the worms with me. |
|||
4. | Virtus Sola Invicta | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Some of my favourite messiahs are dead. You may perhaps be nervous that the endings are wearing thin. So much grist for so many mills. So little point in taking offence. I’ve rolled with all the punches, and not even come up drunk. Danced around the guiding lights, got perhaps a little lost in the dazzle of lamps. Riding the head wind through Shangri-la, HA! Aghast in Agharta, a shambolic frolic in Shamballah. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. The accused are great in number, though if you’d kind enough to line them up, I could find it in me to fire the shots. Temples holed by misplaced homily. Nails all lined up to support heads lording over spikes of infamy. Your alter-ego can dig the pit. Then, once it’s lined with silent bones, we can stir the ghosts around. Perhaps take their powder as salve. Though it’ll perish your thoughts, I’ll tell you. Curiosity pushed you in, face first on top of all the others. So let’s roll the old worm ball down another cerebral hill, Bone over wire / racing the funeral pyre. All wild eyed, world weary. Twisted trees tearing the heart out of Eden. Final resting places soiled as if on queue by those dragging their mean feet, enduring the wait before you. Lightning breaks against the cortex. Rolled into the hole to taste the old face down. A twelve foot round-trip to your discredit. Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around. Listless Heathen. Whirled down drains world-weary. Down drains world-weary. |
|||
5. | Proboscis Master Versus the Powdered Seraphs | 07:18 | Show lyrics |
Face down in the dust of their blasted utopia razors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lines eyes brimming with chemical repulse nostrils crusted with manifold millennia of dried up mortification ...of spiritual fabrication. inhaling the future, new orifices torn for those sexless angels. Strength of Will hammered flat by biological circumstance cells forming the biggest cell of all; body of death, true burden. My opiate naïve autumn putting a gleam to your sycophant summer like so much make believe Throw in your hands for the abyssal disco. All the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holes. All’s about to snap / spring has sprung on the christ trap. In fact, we’ll do worse than put a match to your faces. We’ll have your writhing, you cunts. Do you hear? All you monotheists born from the dust of deserts. Myth piled upon myth / spiritual plague pit. Seething maggot balls / fuel for future tombs Twisting mass a’roil with turning worms. Keep your maggots away from my soul. I’m willing to risk an aneurysm if you’ll just shut up and wait in line. Just impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farce; Glance around for the shroud. How’s your fitting? Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Dancer with ghosts. Spinning so madly around. Down amongst the dead. All our graves walked all over. |
|||
6. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 1: Mindslide) | 02:21 | Show lyrics |
Fear - here again, now I know - far away All that this was - not at peace. Watch the dawn, all is grey. Images gone - here again; Now I know - far away. All of this was; not at peace. Watched the dawn; all is grey. The image is gone. Not at peace - not me. Bitter end. Not peace; descend; is gone. I know. Once again. Adrift in mould. |
|||
7. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 2: Have You Got a Light, Boy?) | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Are you a little lost, robot? To terminate? Stay resident? To dance drawn down with the shades whilst suffocating the dawn? He said ’Let there be light’. Oh, and there WAS light. ’Let there be light’, he said. And oh, how we laughed. |
|||
8. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 3: Perdurabo) | 03:20 | Show lyrics |
When you breathe me / can you release me From this death infested maze of cold? One eye open; nine days hung against nine nights. One eye open / one eye dark. I will endure. All father. Freight of the universe eye please guide me. Nine days to hang against the dark here. Spilled glistening across the gaoled way. The new way. Crutches raised against the face of fear. Can you see through the fast approaching dawn? Find a way to beat the universal chessboard you miserable pawn? Royal blew it. Face down amongst it all / scraped from the boot of old king cold just so much detritus for nowhere. I am not the way. Not the truth nor the light. Caught up in the same barbs, we are. No chemical solutions. Building rainbow bridges / pain railed against the dark. Old world, same disorder. |
|||
9. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 4: An Automaton Adrift) | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
Birthed across nowhere to ride the moon through phases. Fazed in phases rolling nervous / lunar tick patchwork cut and paste parchments to feed faith’s guttering furnace. A cracked clock face nervously ticking away the night. Carbon back to carbon back to repetition upon repetition Repeat. After me. Are you a little lost, robot? take my hand now, let us remain astray. No more invisible chains for this wolf, I can tell you. Howling with the moon whilst riding its decline. Waning not waxing, as ever. Have you a penny to gird the carny man wasted among your secrets? Tiring out cliché upon secret? My hands are tied here; but the one mind is held by no head. Heart leading that blind down bone-raw pathways. Once we’ve devoured the sun and all is said and done, no more paths to navigate; silence our cell mate riding the whirling serpent across bleak skylines; Watching as the final worm turns and turns and turns ...turns and turns. There was light. |
|||
10. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 5: Lowly Worm) | 02:12 | Show lyrics |
Children of the moon, sky high against the day. A script half-written won’t remind. Rainbows jostled, skylines torn. Witches burn beneath us. So polish up your best shoes / walk in line beside sorrow - supplication lost behind. Hitching our throats like tin cans behind this universal hearse. Back against the wall. Rictus grin must bear it. To take the pain and gatecrash my own wake. To ride them all through the black time, Jormungandr. To stare unblinking through hollow face of Death. Whirling worlds, nucleus sun to disappear down frozen gullet of Fenris wolf. Hammer waits to fall. |
|||
11. | Pawn on the Universal Chessboard (Part 6: Let There Be No Light) | 05:14 | Show lyrics |
Smashed across the windscreen of the sky / that’s all we’ve ever been Lost amongst the fading stars / that’s all we’ve ever been Stood aghast as all the light blinks out / that’s all we’ve ever been Just dragging hidden chains of silence / all that’s ever been. |
|||
59:18 |
Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes
Members | |
---|---|
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass, Vocals, Guitars |
The Gentleman | Drums, Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Persistence Is All | 01:41 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Precipice Pirouette | 10:19 | Show lyrics |
It’s death worship, all of it. Your gods wheeling above; spiralling down into the pit of pathetic carrion you call life. Admonishing the vultures to tear away your fears with the promise of a better death. You are already rotting. Every one of you. Nothing but slurry clogging the gutters of decent folk who can’t be reassured by empty platitudes of a clean sky. This is all rot. And oh, how we dance and pirouette amongst it all. Wouldn’t dream of feigning smiles whilst carrying your dead weight through life’s circus. A fête worse than death. So the carrion birds will feign whispers in raucous, howling tones as they build worthless futures amongst these bones... If this is human nature, concrete it over. And have done. Just have done. I like to play in open graves. The crawling things raise their fists and howl. I find that the soil clogs my throat in just such a way / as to drag the vowels through a twist of ruptured bowel; to rise, then decay, then away. Consonant cosmonauts choking on delay. The vultures have it right, sailing in under cover of night. Or staring you straight out in glare of day. They’ll have your eyes away so as you don’t need to blink the tears past. One foot wrong versus this precipice - you’re at least six feet down. Can you wiggle your toes? Let’s fucking go. The all-consuming boogie of nucleus versus the rest of it. If the weather balloons we’re all fucked. Never was much one for recall. Cells is cells is cells is cells. We could idle here whilst I rhyme that with Hel, but I’m sure we’ve all got shapes to throw. Let us stumble through the opening lines. Let us dance for the sake of the fact that once we can’t we’ll all be damned well wish we had. I’m still toying with all the gods of men. I don’t let them push me around. We’ve been around and around and around. Awaiting our chance to populate holes in the ground. |
|||
3. | Tombward Bound | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
Losing night in a race to hate morning when a lonely child loses it to the moon now we’re all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise I have been forever building pyres in my mind. Gathering fallen limbs of masters past ’til mind’s eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root. I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night. The never ending frost plumed night. I shall raise nought but sparks against the coal shrine pitch, but as we gather here against the end, those sparks will grid our honour. Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again. Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night. All coiled as serpents gathering to strike at the light. One last dance amongst the embers. To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come. For this blood, the end of the line. Would you hear me? Carrion, wanderer. Echoing chamber of void. So it’s an endless funeral, or so it would seem. It’s all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping. Oh the fucking weeping. I could almost cry. All the mourners and their mournings; all black veils and emotion unveiled. Shut up and get in the ground. The worms aren’t complaining - they’ll make a hearty meal of yours. ...and the rest of you, I’m sure. Get in the fucking ground. I’ll take up a shovel and hazard a grin. If you don’t yet know the drill, well i’ll fill you in. It’s a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go. Misplaced apology nailed to contradiction - I’m not worshiping that! A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit’s just not level. Always angling towards Hell. Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall. Dancing with the Devil whilst throwing money to the spirit lenders. Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition. You can dance around my tombstone all you like but I’ll be grabbing your fucking ankle as and when I please. I may not be the lord of the dance you ridiculous cunts, but I’ll have my tuppence worth, don’t you worry. One for each eye if you please. |
|||
4. | Premature Invocation | 07:31 | Show lyrics |
Cleaved of hoof and shorn of mane You can keep your shrines, no matter shape or size There’s nothing here for me I’ll happily quaff all your spirits Bleed your coffins dry Used my nine lives across nine days / nine nights Now I just wait for the fires Reduce me back to ashes Our magic circles don’t align Too much static in our tragedy Too much standing still Put out to dry, fell off heaven’s window sill Broke every bone as I tripped through hell Silent fractures in reality I’ll be laughing while you cry, nostrils crystalline at the end of the line Game over for all time Show me your compassion I’ll give you contempt Open those hearts to me I piss on them I’ve had all the gods on my waiting list All too human They can’t see me, I’m never here I’ll nail any apologist to any passing tree No joy here Just this hammer This hammer This ashtray earth the fully realised product of so-called human evolution Vultures voicing complaint at the state of the carrion Sunlight filtered through a mire of thought grime A peek into the void to remind all is nothing All is nothing Nothing is all Same old clichés; same pitiful joke You want a punchline? If the sky should crash upon us in a shower of sparks, our shadows shall be thrown everywhere Up the walls, across the concrete Bathing tortured glass ceilings in spastic ichor Throwing shapes we never dreamt of, cramped up in the drains; sense of purpose lost in the run-offs Mingled with just so much effluent in the language of the sewers Bone and synapse just so much slush Sluiced by the eternal juicer Armageddon dancing on top of it all Azrael creaming off shots of just so much human slurry Bloody Mary, bloody father, bloody son With just a hint of bone for crunch Sitting amongst the coroners in a round tomb is not so possible when everything is flat The earth is flat But growing slightly fat on the cooling coagula of mankind’s last fart |
|||
5. | Children of the Night Soil | 06:39 | Show lyrics |
They’re crawling all over my mind Sunrise They’re crawling all out of my mind Sunrise There’s only so much advantage for the taking I’ve been buried here for years For I am dripping with stars Once golden shower of sparks pouring in and out; Shattering every dancing synapse Infiltrating the bored holes in my skull I just need a little nail to alleviate the pressure If only they’d oblige me Sunrise? Not-so-super-nova Do let me know when it’s all over I just can’t take the joke It went over my head It went through my head Once, twice, thrice, sunrise! But it would not take my thoughts away They couldn’t wash my brain; it crackled, yeah, with all that static Syrup of thoughts of malaise Had to settle for being picked clean by vaudeville vultures in the final laundrette of the soul Didn’t want the ticket out of here Couldn’t see the fucking point in running Gunning for the six foot hole Forever chasing tales only to bury a hammer in the shattered beauty of their lies It’s all untruth dancing behind the eyes I could feel them all jostling against my retina I tried to blink them all away They are going nowhere They form a thick string of drool consuming my everything They hermetically seal my tomb My eyes my tomb My skull my tomb Roll this curse away Only way out is putrefaction Then I can run away with myself Gelatinously As my old friend gravity dictates I can go any way I please... To run through the runnels... Just as long as it’s down Coagulating, south bound Far from the sun |
|||
6. | Taken by the Sea | 08:07 | Show lyrics |
I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I can’t change that day I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I couldn’t make you wake And I couldn’t make you wake I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name Now you’re not on this earthly plane I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name But now that would be in vain All that you thought you could be... I let you fall... away |
|||
7. | Scripturally Transmitted Disease | 10:59 | Show lyrics |
I’ve never been a pillar of society; Quiet the opposite in fact A plyer of insults; A place marker on the path of least resistance; Nothing more A face in a crowd, but a crowd behind Bedlam’s bars Providing a barbed laugh for the wealthy; A grinning, dry target for their rigidity Happily stuck in the throats of an angry mob stretched beyond repair by production line proclivity I am as steadfast refusal I’ve shown no interest and I’ve reaped little that I’ve sewn A world of cloned mechanists has left me unwaveringly organic; Perhaps food for thought or just food for the worms I stand as a final insult to the easily offended; All words out of turn to kindle their burning world If for one moment I thought I felt a twinge of guilt I would put it down to angry muscles shifting their weight against all the irrelevance I will stand as grave marker in resolute denial of the state of your two thousand years of treading water; So dig a good deep hole for Abraham and all his insipid godlets Whatever name it goes by, it’s all the same crumpled at the grave-side Abrahamic iterations all divide by zero Cartoon Lucifer presiding I lost my shadow amongst the marionettes; Soul chord measured found wanting Probably too long, frayed and / or split to dance with the more standard corpses in this world of shit I sold my spirit; Might even have quaffed it blind without realising Any port in a storm, they say Oh, so they say Heart removed as part of some half-arsed morning ritual, piss-begotten solitude sold out at the drop of a gaping fish-mouthed hat Filed away amongst the other stolen myths; The lore of these folks is nought but a long string of syphilitic spit Scripturally transmitted disease, if you will In fact, no - I insist So make a monolith of me, but plant me facing sunset; Back turned to the broken day Leave me here watching the darkness I have no time of day I have no time for day Don’t come looking for me I’m long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice I’ve danced away, died away; Don’t come looking for me Long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice |
|||
8. | Decomposing Deity Dance Hall | 08:57 | Show lyrics |
I find my mind wandering aimless Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves A mouth like a storm drain; Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn; Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams The colour here is nondescript; Leached of sense and purpose Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent The body’s in the back A lifetime on your back Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing More than happy to embrace the grave We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing They’re all gathered, shattered craniums draining; Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms; Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall It’s a stateless carrion nosedive All just a race to nature’s basement I really dig graves |
|||
01:04:06 |
Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass, Vocals, Guitars |
The Gentleman | Drums, Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Persistence Is All | 01:41 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Precipice Pirouette | 10:19 | Show lyrics |
It’s death worship, all of it. Your gods wheeling above; spiralling down into the pit of pathetic carrion you call life. Admonishing the vultures to tear away your fears with the promise of a better death. You are already rotting. Every one of you. Nothing but slurry clogging the gutters of decent folk who can’t be reassured by empty platitudes of a clean sky. This is all rot. And oh, how we dance and pirouette amongst it all. Wouldn’t dream of feigning smiles whilst carrying your dead weight through life’s circus. A fête worse than death. So the carrion birds will feign whispers in raucous, howling tones as they build worthless futures amongst these bones... If this is human nature, concrete it over. And have done. Just have done. I like to play in open graves. The crawling things raise their fists and howl. I find that the soil clogs my throat in just such a way / as to drag the vowels through a twist of ruptured bowel; to rise, then decay, then away. Consonant cosmonauts choking on delay. The vultures have it right, sailing in under cover of night. Or staring you straight out in glare of day. They’ll have your eyes away so as you don’t need to blink the tears past. One foot wrong versus this precipice - you’re at least six feet down. Can you wiggle your toes? Let’s fucking go. The all-consuming boogie of nucleus versus the rest of it. If the weather balloons we’re all fucked. Never was much one for recall. Cells is cells is cells is cells. We could idle here whilst I rhyme that with Hel, but I’m sure we’ve all got shapes to throw. Let us stumble through the opening lines. Let us dance for the sake of the fact that once we can’t we’ll all be damned well wish we had. I’m still toying with all the gods of men. I don’t let them push me around. We’ve been around and around and around. Awaiting our chance to populate holes in the ground. |
|||
3. | Tombward Bound | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
Losing night in a race to hate morning when a lonely child loses it to the moon now we’re all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise I have been forever building pyres in my mind. Gathering fallen limbs of masters past ’til mind’s eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root. I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night. The never ending frost plumed night. I shall raise nought but sparks against the coal shrine pitch, but as we gather here against the end, those sparks will grid our honour. Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again. Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night. All coiled as serpents gathering to strike at the light. One last dance amongst the embers. To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come. For this blood, the end of the line. Would you hear me? Carrion, wanderer. Echoing chamber of void. So it’s an endless funeral, or so it would seem. It’s all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping. Oh the fucking weeping. I could almost cry. All the mourners and their mournings; all black veils and emotion unveiled. Shut up and get in the ground. The worms aren’t complaining - they’ll make a hearty meal of yours. ...and the rest of you, I’m sure. Get in the fucking ground. I’ll take up a shovel and hazard a grin. If you don’t yet know the drill, well i’ll fill you in. It’s a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go. Misplaced apology nailed to contradiction - I’m not worshiping that! A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit’s just not level. Always angling towards Hell. Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall. Dancing with the Devil whilst throwing money to the spirit lenders. Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition. You can dance around my tombstone all you like but I’ll be grabbing your fucking ankle as and when I please. I may not be the lord of the dance you ridiculous cunts, but I’ll have my tuppence worth, don’t you worry. One for each eye if you please. |
|||
4. | Premature Invocation | 07:31 | Show lyrics |
Cleaved of hoof and shorn of mane You can keep your shrines, no matter shape or size There’s nothing here for me I’ll happily quaff all your spirits Bleed your coffins dry Used my nine lives across nine days / nine nights Now I just wait for the fires Reduce me back to ashes Our magic circles don’t align Too much static in our tragedy Too much standing still Put out to dry, fell off heaven’s window sill Broke every bone as I tripped through hell Silent fractures in reality I’ll be laughing while you cry, nostrils crystalline at the end of the line Game over for all time Show me your compassion I’ll give you contempt Open those hearts to me I piss on them I’ve had all the gods on my waiting list All too human They can’t see me, I’m never here I’ll nail any apologist to any passing tree No joy here Just this hammer This hammer This ashtray earth the fully realised product of so-called human evolution Vultures voicing complaint at the state of the carrion Sunlight filtered through a mire of thought grime A peek into the void to remind all is nothing All is nothing Nothing is all Same old clichés; same pitiful joke You want a punchline? If the sky should crash upon us in a shower of sparks, our shadows shall be thrown everywhere Up the walls, across the concrete Bathing tortured glass ceilings in spastic ichor Throwing shapes we never dreamt of, cramped up in the drains; sense of purpose lost in the run-offs Mingled with just so much effluent in the language of the sewers Bone and synapse just so much slush Sluiced by the eternal juicer Armageddon dancing on top of it all Azrael creaming off shots of just so much human slurry Bloody Mary, bloody father, bloody son With just a hint of bone for crunch Sitting amongst the coroners in a round tomb is not so possible when everything is flat The earth is flat But growing slightly fat on the cooling coagula of mankind’s last fart |
|||
5. | Children of the Night Soil | 06:39 | Show lyrics |
They’re crawling all over my mind Sunrise They’re crawling all out of my mind Sunrise There’s only so much advantage for the taking I’ve been buried here for years For I am dripping with stars Once golden shower of sparks pouring in and out; Shattering every dancing synapse Infiltrating the bored holes in my skull I just need a little nail to alleviate the pressure If only they’d oblige me Sunrise? Not-so-super-nova Do let me know when it’s all over I just can’t take the joke It went over my head It went through my head Once, twice, thrice, sunrise! But it would not take my thoughts away They couldn’t wash my brain; it crackled, yeah, with all that static Syrup of thoughts of malaise Had to settle for being picked clean by vaudeville vultures in the final laundrette of the soul Didn’t want the ticket out of here Couldn’t see the fucking point in running Gunning for the six foot hole Forever chasing tales only to bury a hammer in the shattered beauty of their lies It’s all untruth dancing behind the eyes I could feel them all jostling against my retina I tried to blink them all away They are going nowhere They form a thick string of drool consuming my everything They hermetically seal my tomb My eyes my tomb My skull my tomb Roll this curse away Only way out is putrefaction Then I can run away with myself Gelatinously As my old friend gravity dictates I can go any way I please... To run through the runnels... Just as long as it’s down Coagulating, south bound Far from the sun |
|||
6. | Taken by the Sea | 08:07 | Show lyrics |
I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I can’t change that day I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I couldn’t make you wake And I couldn’t make you wake I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name Now you’re not on this earthly plane I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name But now that would be in vain All that you thought you could be... I let you fall... away |
|||
7. | Scripturally Transmitted Disease | 10:59 | Show lyrics |
I’ve never been a pillar of society; Quiet the opposite in fact A plyer of insults; A place marker on the path of least resistance; Nothing more A face in a crowd, but a crowd behind Bedlam’s bars Providing a barbed laugh for the wealthy; A grinning, dry target for their rigidity Happily stuck in the throats of an angry mob stretched beyond repair by production line proclivity I am as steadfast refusal I’ve shown no interest and I’ve reaped little that I’ve sewn A world of cloned mechanists has left me unwaveringly organic; Perhaps food for thought or just food for the worms I stand as a final insult to the easily offended; All words out of turn to kindle their burning world If for one moment I thought I felt a twinge of guilt I would put it down to angry muscles shifting their weight against all the irrelevance I will stand as grave marker in resolute denial of the state of your two thousand years of treading water; So dig a good deep hole for Abraham and all his insipid godlets Whatever name it goes by, it’s all the same crumpled at the grave-side Abrahamic iterations all divide by zero Cartoon Lucifer presiding I lost my shadow amongst the marionettes; Soul chord measured found wanting Probably too long, frayed and / or split to dance with the more standard corpses in this world of shit I sold my spirit; Might even have quaffed it blind without realising Any port in a storm, they say Oh, so they say Heart removed as part of some half-arsed morning ritual, piss-begotten solitude sold out at the drop of a gaping fish-mouthed hat Filed away amongst the other stolen myths; The lore of these folks is nought but a long string of syphilitic spit Scripturally transmitted disease, if you will In fact, no - I insist So make a monolith of me, but plant me facing sunset; Back turned to the broken day Leave me here watching the darkness I have no time of day I have no time for day Don’t come looking for me I’m long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice I’ve danced away, died away; Don’t come looking for me Long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice |
|||
8. | Decomposing Deity Dance Hall | 08:57 | Show lyrics |
I find my mind wandering aimless Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves A mouth like a storm drain; Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn; Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams The colour here is nondescript; Leached of sense and purpose Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent The body’s in the back A lifetime on your back Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing More than happy to embrace the grave We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing They’re all gathered, shattered craniums draining; Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms; Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall It’s a stateless carrion nosedive All just a race to nature’s basement I really dig graves |
|||
01:04:06 |
Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass, Vocals, Guitars |
The Gentleman | Drums, Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
1. | Persistence Is All | 01:41 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Precipice Pirouette | 10:19 | Show lyrics |
It’s death worship, all of it. Your gods wheeling above; spiralling down into the pit of pathetic carrion you call life. Admonishing the vultures to tear away your fears with the promise of a better death. You are already rotting. Every one of you. Nothing but slurry clogging the gutters of decent folk who can’t be reassured by empty platitudes of a clean sky. This is all rot. And oh, how we dance and pirouette amongst it all. Wouldn’t dream of feigning smiles whilst carrying your dead weight through life’s circus. A fête worse than death. So the carrion birds will feign whispers in raucous, howling tones as they build worthless futures amongst these bones... If this is human nature, concrete it over. And have done. Just have done. I like to play in open graves. The crawling things raise their fists and howl. I find that the soil clogs my throat in just such a way / as to drag the vowels through a twist of ruptured bowel; to rise, then decay, then away. Consonant cosmonauts choking on delay. The vultures have it right, sailing in under cover of night. Or staring you straight out in glare of day. They’ll have your eyes away so as you don’t need to blink the tears past. One foot wrong versus this precipice - you’re at least six feet down. Can you wiggle your toes? Let’s fucking go. The all-consuming boogie of nucleus versus the rest of it. If the weather balloons we’re all fucked. Never was much one for recall. Cells is cells is cells is cells. We could idle here whilst I rhyme that with Hel, but I’m sure we’ve all got shapes to throw. Let us stumble through the opening lines. Let us dance for the sake of the fact that once we can’t we’ll all be damned well wish we had. I’m still toying with all the gods of men. I don’t let them push me around. We’ve been around and around and around. Awaiting our chance to populate holes in the ground. |
|||
3. | Tombward Bound | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
Losing night in a race to hate morning when a lonely child loses it to the moon now we’re all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise I have been forever building pyres in my mind. Gathering fallen limbs of masters past ’til mind’s eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root. I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night. The never ending frost plumed night. I shall raise nought but sparks against the coal shrine pitch, but as we gather here against the end, those sparks will grid our honour. Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again. Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night. All coiled as serpents gathering to strike at the light. One last dance amongst the embers. To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come. For this blood, the end of the line. Would you hear me? Carrion, wanderer. Echoing chamber of void. So it’s an endless funeral, or so it would seem. It’s all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping. Oh the fucking weeping. I could almost cry. All the mourners and their mournings; all black veils and emotion unveiled. Shut up and get in the ground. The worms aren’t complaining - they’ll make a hearty meal of yours. ...and the rest of you, I’m sure. Get in the fucking ground. I’ll take up a shovel and hazard a grin. If you don’t yet know the drill, well i’ll fill you in. It’s a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go. Misplaced apology nailed to contradiction - I’m not worshiping that! A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit’s just not level. Always angling towards Hell. Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall. Dancing with the Devil whilst throwing money to the spirit lenders. Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition. You can dance around my tombstone all you like but I’ll be grabbing your fucking ankle as and when I please. I may not be the lord of the dance you ridiculous cunts, but I’ll have my tuppence worth, don’t you worry. One for each eye if you please. |
|||
4. | Premature Invocation | 07:31 | Show lyrics |
Cleaved of hoof and shorn of mane You can keep your shrines, no matter shape or size There’s nothing here for me I’ll happily quaff all your spirits Bleed your coffins dry Used my nine lives across nine days / nine nights Now I just wait for the fires Reduce me back to ashes Our magic circles don’t align Too much static in our tragedy Too much standing still Put out to dry, fell off heaven’s window sill Broke every bone as I tripped through hell Silent fractures in reality I’ll be laughing while you cry, nostrils crystalline at the end of the line Game over for all time Show me your compassion I’ll give you contempt Open those hearts to me I piss on them I’ve had all the gods on my waiting list All too human They can’t see me, I’m never here I’ll nail any apologist to any passing tree No joy here Just this hammer This hammer This ashtray earth the fully realised product of so-called human evolution Vultures voicing complaint at the state of the carrion Sunlight filtered through a mire of thought grime A peek into the void to remind all is nothing All is nothing Nothing is all Same old clichés; same pitiful joke You want a punchline? If the sky should crash upon us in a shower of sparks, our shadows shall be thrown everywhere Up the walls, across the concrete Bathing tortured glass ceilings in spastic ichor Throwing shapes we never dreamt of, cramped up in the drains; sense of purpose lost in the run-offs Mingled with just so much effluent in the language of the sewers Bone and synapse just so much slush Sluiced by the eternal juicer Armageddon dancing on top of it all Azrael creaming off shots of just so much human slurry Bloody Mary, bloody father, bloody son With just a hint of bone for crunch Sitting amongst the coroners in a round tomb is not so possible when everything is flat The earth is flat But growing slightly fat on the cooling coagula of mankind’s last fart |
|||
5. | Children of the Night Soil | 06:39 | Show lyrics |
They’re crawling all over my mind Sunrise They’re crawling all out of my mind Sunrise There’s only so much advantage for the taking I’ve been buried here for years For I am dripping with stars Once golden shower of sparks pouring in and out; Shattering every dancing synapse Infiltrating the bored holes in my skull I just need a little nail to alleviate the pressure If only they’d oblige me Sunrise? Not-so-super-nova Do let me know when it’s all over I just can’t take the joke It went over my head It went through my head Once, twice, thrice, sunrise! But it would not take my thoughts away They couldn’t wash my brain; it crackled, yeah, with all that static Syrup of thoughts of malaise Had to settle for being picked clean by vaudeville vultures in the final laundrette of the soul Didn’t want the ticket out of here Couldn’t see the fucking point in running Gunning for the six foot hole Forever chasing tales only to bury a hammer in the shattered beauty of their lies It’s all untruth dancing behind the eyes I could feel them all jostling against my retina I tried to blink them all away They are going nowhere They form a thick string of drool consuming my everything They hermetically seal my tomb My eyes my tomb My skull my tomb Roll this curse away Only way out is putrefaction Then I can run away with myself Gelatinously As my old friend gravity dictates I can go any way I please... To run through the runnels... Just as long as it’s down Coagulating, south bound Far from the sun |
|||
6. | Taken by the Sea | 08:07 | Show lyrics |
I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I can’t change that day I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I couldn’t make you wake And I couldn’t make you wake I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name Now you’re not on this earthly plane I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name But now that would be in vain All that you thought you could be... I let you fall... away |
|||
7. | Scripturally Transmitted Disease | 10:59 | Show lyrics |
I’ve never been a pillar of society; Quiet the opposite in fact A plyer of insults; A place marker on the path of least resistance; Nothing more A face in a crowd, but a crowd behind Bedlam’s bars Providing a barbed laugh for the wealthy; A grinning, dry target for their rigidity Happily stuck in the throats of an angry mob stretched beyond repair by production line proclivity I am as steadfast refusal I’ve shown no interest and I’ve reaped little that I’ve sewn A world of cloned mechanists has left me unwaveringly organic; Perhaps food for thought or just food for the worms I stand as a final insult to the easily offended; All words out of turn to kindle their burning world If for one moment I thought I felt a twinge of guilt I would put it down to angry muscles shifting their weight against all the irrelevance I will stand as grave marker in resolute denial of the state of your two thousand years of treading water; So dig a good deep hole for Abraham and all his insipid godlets Whatever name it goes by, it’s all the same crumpled at the grave-side Abrahamic iterations all divide by zero Cartoon Lucifer presiding I lost my shadow amongst the marionettes; Soul chord measured found wanting Probably too long, frayed and / or split to dance with the more standard corpses in this world of shit I sold my spirit; Might even have quaffed it blind without realising Any port in a storm, they say Oh, so they say Heart removed as part of some half-arsed morning ritual, piss-begotten solitude sold out at the drop of a gaping fish-mouthed hat Filed away amongst the other stolen myths; The lore of these folks is nought but a long string of syphilitic spit Scripturally transmitted disease, if you will In fact, no - I insist So make a monolith of me, but plant me facing sunset; Back turned to the broken day Leave me here watching the darkness I have no time of day I have no time for day Don’t come looking for me I’m long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice I’ve danced away, died away; Don’t come looking for me Long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice |
|||
8. | Decomposing Deity Dance Hall | 08:57 | Show lyrics |
I find my mind wandering aimless Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves A mouth like a storm drain; Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn; Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams The colour here is nondescript; Leached of sense and purpose Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent The body’s in the back A lifetime on your back Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing More than happy to embrace the grave We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing They’re all gathered, shattered craniums draining; Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms; Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall It’s a stateless carrion nosedive All just a race to nature’s basement I really dig graves |
|||
01:04:06 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
1. | So Much Walking Dust (Parasite For Sore Eyes) | 05:35 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Plight of the Uneven Heathen | 07:12 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
12:47 |
Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass, Vocals, Guitars |
The Gentleman | Drums, Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Persistence Is All | 01:41 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Precipice Pirouette | 10:19 | Show lyrics |
It’s death worship, all of it. Your gods wheeling above; spiralling down into the pit of pathetic carrion you call life. Admonishing the vultures to tear away your fears with the promise of a better death. You are already rotting. Every one of you. Nothing but slurry clogging the gutters of decent folk who can’t be reassured by empty platitudes of a clean sky. This is all rot. And oh, how we dance and pirouette amongst it all. Wouldn’t dream of feigning smiles whilst carrying your dead weight through life’s circus. A fête worse than death. So the carrion birds will feign whispers in raucous, howling tones as they build worthless futures amongst these bones... If this is human nature, concrete it over. And have done. Just have done. I like to play in open graves. The crawling things raise their fists and howl. I find that the soil clogs my throat in just such a way / as to drag the vowels through a twist of ruptured bowel; to rise, then decay, then away. Consonant cosmonauts choking on delay. The vultures have it right, sailing in under cover of night. Or staring you straight out in glare of day. They’ll have your eyes away so as you don’t need to blink the tears past. One foot wrong versus this precipice - you’re at least six feet down. Can you wiggle your toes? Let’s fucking go. The all-consuming boogie of nucleus versus the rest of it. If the weather balloons we’re all fucked. Never was much one for recall. Cells is cells is cells is cells. We could idle here whilst I rhyme that with Hel, but I’m sure we’ve all got shapes to throw. Let us stumble through the opening lines. Let us dance for the sake of the fact that once we can’t we’ll all be damned well wish we had. I’m still toying with all the gods of men. I don’t let them push me around. We’ve been around and around and around. Awaiting our chance to populate holes in the ground. |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | Tombward Bound | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
Losing night in a race to hate morning when a lonely child loses it to the moon now we’re all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise I have been forever building pyres in my mind. Gathering fallen limbs of masters past ’til mind’s eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root. I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night. The never ending frost plumed night. I shall raise nought but sparks against the coal shrine pitch, but as we gather here against the end, those sparks will grid our honour. Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again. Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night. All coiled as serpents gathering to strike at the light. One last dance amongst the embers. To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come. For this blood, the end of the line. Would you hear me? Carrion, wanderer. Echoing chamber of void. So it’s an endless funeral, or so it would seem. It’s all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping. Oh the fucking weeping. I could almost cry. All the mourners and their mournings; all black veils and emotion unveiled. Shut up and get in the ground. The worms aren’t complaining - they’ll make a hearty meal of yours. ...and the rest of you, I’m sure. Get in the fucking ground. I’ll take up a shovel and hazard a grin. If you don’t yet know the drill, well i’ll fill you in. It’s a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go. Misplaced apology nailed to contradiction - I’m not worshiping that! A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit’s just not level. Always angling towards Hell. Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall. Dancing with the Devil whilst throwing money to the spirit lenders. Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition. You can dance around my tombstone all you like but I’ll be grabbing your fucking ankle as and when I please. I may not be the lord of the dance you ridiculous cunts, but I’ll have my tuppence worth, don’t you worry. One for each eye if you please. |
|||
4. | Premature Invocation | 07:31 | Show lyrics |
Cleaved of hoof and shorn of mane You can keep your shrines, no matter shape or size There’s nothing here for me I’ll happily quaff all your spirits Bleed your coffins dry Used my nine lives across nine days / nine nights Now I just wait for the fires Reduce me back to ashes Our magic circles don’t align Too much static in our tragedy Too much standing still Put out to dry, fell off heaven’s window sill Broke every bone as I tripped through hell Silent fractures in reality I’ll be laughing while you cry, nostrils crystalline at the end of the line Game over for all time Show me your compassion I’ll give you contempt Open those hearts to me I piss on them I’ve had all the gods on my waiting list All too human They can’t see me, I’m never here I’ll nail any apologist to any passing tree No joy here Just this hammer This hammer This ashtray earth the fully realised product of so-called human evolution Vultures voicing complaint at the state of the carrion Sunlight filtered through a mire of thought grime A peek into the void to remind all is nothing All is nothing Nothing is all Same old clichés; same pitiful joke You want a punchline? If the sky should crash upon us in a shower of sparks, our shadows shall be thrown everywhere Up the walls, across the concrete Bathing tortured glass ceilings in spastic ichor Throwing shapes we never dreamt of, cramped up in the drains; sense of purpose lost in the run-offs Mingled with just so much effluent in the language of the sewers Bone and synapse just so much slush Sluiced by the eternal juicer Armageddon dancing on top of it all Azrael creaming off shots of just so much human slurry Bloody Mary, bloody father, bloody son With just a hint of bone for crunch Sitting amongst the coroners in a round tomb is not so possible when everything is flat The earth is flat But growing slightly fat on the cooling coagula of mankind’s last fart |
|||
29:24 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Children of the Night Soil | 06:39 | Show lyrics |
They’re crawling all over my mind Sunrise They’re crawling all out of my mind Sunrise There’s only so much advantage for the taking I’ve been buried here for years For I am dripping with stars Once golden shower of sparks pouring in and out; Shattering every dancing synapse Infiltrating the bored holes in my skull I just need a little nail to alleviate the pressure If only they’d oblige me Sunrise? Not-so-super-nova Do let me know when it’s all over I just can’t take the joke It went over my head It went through my head Once, twice, thrice, sunrise! But it would not take my thoughts away They couldn’t wash my brain; it crackled, yeah, with all that static Syrup of thoughts of malaise Had to settle for being picked clean by vaudeville vultures in the final laundrette of the soul Didn’t want the ticket out of here Couldn’t see the fucking point in running Gunning for the six foot hole Forever chasing tales only to bury a hammer in the shattered beauty of their lies It’s all untruth dancing behind the eyes I could feel them all jostling against my retina I tried to blink them all away They are going nowhere They form a thick string of drool consuming my everything They hermetically seal my tomb My eyes my tomb My skull my tomb Roll this curse away Only way out is putrefaction Then I can run away with myself Gelatinously As my old friend gravity dictates I can go any way I please... To run through the runnels... Just as long as it’s down Coagulating, south bound Far from the sun |
|||
2. | Taken by the Sea | 08:07 | Show lyrics |
I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I can’t change that day I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I couldn’t make you wake And I couldn’t make you wake I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name Now you’re not on this earthly plane I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name But now that would be in vain All that you thought you could be... I let you fall... away |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | Scripturally Transmitted Disease | 10:59 | Show lyrics |
I’ve never been a pillar of society; Quiet the opposite in fact A plyer of insults; A place marker on the path of least resistance; Nothing more A face in a crowd, but a crowd behind Bedlam’s bars Providing a barbed laugh for the wealthy; A grinning, dry target for their rigidity Happily stuck in the throats of an angry mob stretched beyond repair by production line proclivity I am as steadfast refusal I’ve shown no interest and I’ve reaped little that I’ve sewn A world of cloned mechanists has left me unwaveringly organic; Perhaps food for thought or just food for the worms I stand as a final insult to the easily offended; All words out of turn to kindle their burning world If for one moment I thought I felt a twinge of guilt I would put it down to angry muscles shifting their weight against all the irrelevance I will stand as grave marker in resolute denial of the state of your two thousand years of treading water; So dig a good deep hole for Abraham and all his insipid godlets Whatever name it goes by, it’s all the same crumpled at the grave-side Abrahamic iterations all divide by zero Cartoon Lucifer presiding I lost my shadow amongst the marionettes; Soul chord measured found wanting Probably too long, frayed and / or split to dance with the more standard corpses in this world of shit I sold my spirit; Might even have quaffed it blind without realising Any port in a storm, they say Oh, so they say Heart removed as part of some half-arsed morning ritual, piss-begotten solitude sold out at the drop of a gaping fish-mouthed hat Filed away amongst the other stolen myths; The lore of these folks is nought but a long string of syphilitic spit Scripturally transmitted disease, if you will In fact, no - I insist So make a monolith of me, but plant me facing sunset; Back turned to the broken day Leave me here watching the darkness I have no time of day I have no time for day Don’t come looking for me I’m long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice I’ve danced away, died away; Don’t come looking for me Long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice |
|||
4. | Decomposing Deity Dance Hall | 08:57 | Show lyrics |
I find my mind wandering aimless Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves A mouth like a storm drain; Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn; Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams The colour here is nondescript; Leached of sense and purpose Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent The body’s in the back A lifetime on your back Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing More than happy to embrace the grave We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing They’re all gathered, shattered craniums draining; Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms; Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall It’s a stateless carrion nosedive All just a race to nature’s basement I really dig graves |
|||
34:42 |
Grave Mounds and Grave Mistakes
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Mr. T.S. Kettleburner | Bass, Vocals, Guitars |
Mr William Wight-Barrow | Guitars |
The Gentleman | Drums, Keyboards, Pianoforte, Percussion |
Mister Curse | Vocals |
Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts | Vocals, Violin, Flute |
Mr. John "The Resurrectionist" Bishop | Drums, Percussion |
Mr. Titus Lungbutter | Bass |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Persistence Is All | 01:41 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Precipice Pirouette | 10:19 | Show lyrics |
It’s death worship, all of it. Your gods wheeling above; spiralling down into the pit of pathetic carrion you call life. Admonishing the vultures to tear away your fears with the promise of a better death. You are already rotting. Every one of you. Nothing but slurry clogging the gutters of decent folk who can’t be reassured by empty platitudes of a clean sky. This is all rot. And oh, how we dance and pirouette amongst it all. Wouldn’t dream of feigning smiles whilst carrying your dead weight through life’s circus. A fête worse than death. So the carrion birds will feign whispers in raucous, howling tones as they build worthless futures amongst these bones... If this is human nature, concrete it over. And have done. Just have done. I like to play in open graves. The crawling things raise their fists and howl. I find that the soil clogs my throat in just such a way / as to drag the vowels through a twist of ruptured bowel; to rise, then decay, then away. Consonant cosmonauts choking on delay. The vultures have it right, sailing in under cover of night. Or staring you straight out in glare of day. They’ll have your eyes away so as you don’t need to blink the tears past. One foot wrong versus this precipice - you’re at least six feet down. Can you wiggle your toes? Let’s fucking go. The all-consuming boogie of nucleus versus the rest of it. If the weather balloons we’re all fucked. Never was much one for recall. Cells is cells is cells is cells. We could idle here whilst I rhyme that with Hel, but I’m sure we’ve all got shapes to throw. Let us stumble through the opening lines. Let us dance for the sake of the fact that once we can’t we’ll all be damned well wish we had. I’m still toying with all the gods of men. I don’t let them push me around. We’ve been around and around and around. Awaiting our chance to populate holes in the ground. |
|||
3. | Tombward Bound | 09:53 | Show lyrics |
Losing night in a race to hate morning when a lonely child loses it to the moon now we’re all carrion, rotting here at the gates to another empty paradise I have been forever building pyres in my mind. Gathering fallen limbs of masters past ’til mind’s eye finally fades out; blinded by final death of the Root. I shall gather my strength amongst the remnants of my kin and build a bonfire against the eternal, twisting night. The never ending frost plumed night. I shall raise nought but sparks against the coal shrine pitch, but as we gather here against the end, those sparks will grid our honour. Sparks to kindling to roaring flame, pyres of the mind starting up again. Death may be inevitable, but we can at least ride his trail, grim determination as fortification - dancing through the mires, raising surprised rainbows against the night. All coiled as serpents gathering to strike at the light. One last dance amongst the embers. To lay down with the others before the dawn should chance to come. For this blood, the end of the line. Would you hear me? Carrion, wanderer. Echoing chamber of void. So it’s an endless funeral, or so it would seem. It’s all furnace flames and clods of earth and endless weeping. Oh the fucking weeping. I could almost cry. All the mourners and their mournings; all black veils and emotion unveiled. Shut up and get in the ground. The worms aren’t complaining - they’ll make a hearty meal of yours. ...and the rest of you, I’m sure. Get in the fucking ground. I’ll take up a shovel and hazard a grin. If you don’t yet know the drill, well i’ll fill you in. It’s a dark old life on the whole, so step right up and down you go. Misplaced apology nailed to contradiction - I’m not worshiping that! A life spent seeking balance; perhaps my spirit’s just not level. Always angling towards Hell. Catch of the day not worth a glance past nightfall. Dancing with the Devil whilst throwing money to the spirit lenders. Sale or return you can keep it. This is not a percentage decrease in decomposition. You can dance around my tombstone all you like but I’ll be grabbing your fucking ankle as and when I please. I may not be the lord of the dance you ridiculous cunts, but I’ll have my tuppence worth, don’t you worry. One for each eye if you please. |
|||
4. | Premature Invocation | 07:31 | Show lyrics |
Cleaved of hoof and shorn of mane You can keep your shrines, no matter shape or size There’s nothing here for me I’ll happily quaff all your spirits Bleed your coffins dry Used my nine lives across nine days / nine nights Now I just wait for the fires Reduce me back to ashes Our magic circles don’t align Too much static in our tragedy Too much standing still Put out to dry, fell off heaven’s window sill Broke every bone as I tripped through hell Silent fractures in reality I’ll be laughing while you cry, nostrils crystalline at the end of the line Game over for all time Show me your compassion I’ll give you contempt Open those hearts to me I piss on them I’ve had all the gods on my waiting list All too human They can’t see me, I’m never here I’ll nail any apologist to any passing tree No joy here Just this hammer This hammer This ashtray earth the fully realised product of so-called human evolution Vultures voicing complaint at the state of the carrion Sunlight filtered through a mire of thought grime A peek into the void to remind all is nothing All is nothing Nothing is all Same old clichés; same pitiful joke You want a punchline? If the sky should crash upon us in a shower of sparks, our shadows shall be thrown everywhere Up the walls, across the concrete Bathing tortured glass ceilings in spastic ichor Throwing shapes we never dreamt of, cramped up in the drains; sense of purpose lost in the run-offs Mingled with just so much effluent in the language of the sewers Bone and synapse just so much slush Sluiced by the eternal juicer Armageddon dancing on top of it all Azrael creaming off shots of just so much human slurry Bloody Mary, bloody father, bloody son With just a hint of bone for crunch Sitting amongst the coroners in a round tomb is not so possible when everything is flat The earth is flat But growing slightly fat on the cooling coagula of mankind’s last fart |
|||
5. | Children of the Night Soil | 06:39 | Show lyrics |
They’re crawling all over my mind Sunrise They’re crawling all out of my mind Sunrise There’s only so much advantage for the taking I’ve been buried here for years For I am dripping with stars Once golden shower of sparks pouring in and out; Shattering every dancing synapse Infiltrating the bored holes in my skull I just need a little nail to alleviate the pressure If only they’d oblige me Sunrise? Not-so-super-nova Do let me know when it’s all over I just can’t take the joke It went over my head It went through my head Once, twice, thrice, sunrise! But it would not take my thoughts away They couldn’t wash my brain; it crackled, yeah, with all that static Syrup of thoughts of malaise Had to settle for being picked clean by vaudeville vultures in the final laundrette of the soul Didn’t want the ticket out of here Couldn’t see the fucking point in running Gunning for the six foot hole Forever chasing tales only to bury a hammer in the shattered beauty of their lies It’s all untruth dancing behind the eyes I could feel them all jostling against my retina I tried to blink them all away They are going nowhere They form a thick string of drool consuming my everything They hermetically seal my tomb My eyes my tomb My skull my tomb Roll this curse away Only way out is putrefaction Then I can run away with myself Gelatinously As my old friend gravity dictates I can go any way I please... To run through the runnels... Just as long as it’s down Coagulating, south bound Far from the sun |
|||
6. | Taken by the Sea | 08:07 | Show lyrics |
I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I can’t change that day I remember when my seas turned grey and you floated away I remember when my seas turned grey and I couldn’t make you wake And I couldn’t make you wake I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name Now you’re not on this earthly plane I remember when I could call your name Now things can never be the same I remember when I could call your name But now that would be in vain All that you thought you could be... I let you fall... away |
|||
7. | Scripturally Transmitted Disease | 10:59 | Show lyrics |
I’ve never been a pillar of society; Quiet the opposite in fact A plyer of insults; A place marker on the path of least resistance; Nothing more A face in a crowd, but a crowd behind Bedlam’s bars Providing a barbed laugh for the wealthy; A grinning, dry target for their rigidity Happily stuck in the throats of an angry mob stretched beyond repair by production line proclivity I am as steadfast refusal I’ve shown no interest and I’ve reaped little that I’ve sewn A world of cloned mechanists has left me unwaveringly organic; Perhaps food for thought or just food for the worms I stand as a final insult to the easily offended; All words out of turn to kindle their burning world If for one moment I thought I felt a twinge of guilt I would put it down to angry muscles shifting their weight against all the irrelevance I will stand as grave marker in resolute denial of the state of your two thousand years of treading water; So dig a good deep hole for Abraham and all his insipid godlets Whatever name it goes by, it’s all the same crumpled at the grave-side Abrahamic iterations all divide by zero Cartoon Lucifer presiding I lost my shadow amongst the marionettes; Soul chord measured found wanting Probably too long, frayed and / or split to dance with the more standard corpses in this world of shit I sold my spirit; Might even have quaffed it blind without realising Any port in a storm, they say Oh, so they say Heart removed as part of some half-arsed morning ritual, piss-begotten solitude sold out at the drop of a gaping fish-mouthed hat Filed away amongst the other stolen myths; The lore of these folks is nought but a long string of syphilitic spit Scripturally transmitted disease, if you will In fact, no - I insist So make a monolith of me, but plant me facing sunset; Back turned to the broken day Leave me here watching the darkness I have no time of day I have no time for day Don’t come looking for me I’m long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice I’ve danced away, died away; Don’t come looking for me Long lost, seeking out Odin Odin under ice |
|||
8. | Decomposing Deity Dance Hall | 08:57 | Show lyrics |
I find my mind wandering aimless Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves A mouth like a storm drain; Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn; Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams The colour here is nondescript; Leached of sense and purpose Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent The body’s in the back A lifetime on your back Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing More than happy to embrace the grave We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing They’re all gathered, shattered craniums draining; Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms; Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall It’s a stateless carrion nosedive All just a race to nature’s basement I really dig graves |
|||
9. | So Much Walking Dust (Parasite for Sore Eyes) | 05:36 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
10. | Plight of the Uneven Heathen | 07:13 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
01:16:55 |
Band ascii art
.....;;:;+?;...............................................................................................+?+:::;...... .....+;::;?+,.............................................................................................:+*:,:;+...,.. ,;:+,+:;:?:+,....,.......,................................................................,...............,+:?:::;:.+:;, *,+,.*:;?+:++*;*+;*;;*;;?;+*;*+;*;;*;:+:+*;;+.........,,::+:;+;::;;:;+;:........;:;*;+?;+*;+*;*+;*;;*;++;?++,;*+:*:.;;:+ ;**++*+;;;;:,;.::.;:,+,:+,;;,;:,+:,+:;+::;,;+;;;;;;;;;;:,,:;,,:;,,,;:,,;;;;;;;;;+;:;,:;,:;,:;,;:,+,,+.::.;,:;?;:;++;***, .,;;:,;*+,:*???***+*??%%%%%%%??*****??%SS%%%????%%%%%%%%%????%%%SSS%%%%%%%*******?????????????******+*++**?*%,:+*:,:::.. .......?::.*##*:,::;;:;;;;;################################################################################*?,:;?....... ......,?:;.*##???%S#S..;..:################################################################################*?.;+*....... .......+;;,%########S.:@*.;###%%##SSSSSSSSSS####S%S#######S%%%S#####SSSSSSSSS%%S@#S%SS##S?+;::::;;+*%S#####??,+;;....... ........,*,?%#######*.%##,,##S,.%#:.:;++;;:,%#?:;+:+S##%:,;**+:,+S##*..;;;;;;:.*+,:**:,,..:+?%*..;*+;;;:+##%+.*,........ ........,;,??#######:,###+.S#@*.%@+.*@####S%#+.?##S,,S#S..?@###+..S#S..S@#####S+.:##@+.,+S####S..S@####S###S*,+:........ .......,;.,?S######S.+###S.*@%:*##*.;++++;:??.:####%.:##:.%###@%..?@S.,SSSSSS%#%,,%#?.+S@#####S.,###########?:.*:....... .......*;..?S######*.%####:,++%###*.*%%S+.+S,.*#####,.%@;.%@##%,.+##S.,;;;;;,,##S*;:.*@#######S.;###########*:.*;....... ........*,.%S######,,##?+++.?@####*.%@@S:?@%..%#####:.+@+.+*+:,*S###S.;######S###@*.+;;%######S.+###########*::+........ .......;*..%S#####%.;*;*S##,;#####*.%@%,?@#?..%#####:.:@*.*%%,,#####S.;###%;;*###*,%@#*.+#####S.+###########+:,+;....... .......;+..?S#####+.,?#####+.S####+.SS.;@##?..%#####:.:@*.%@@?.+####S.;##S.:::S#*:S####:.?####S.*##########S+,.;,....... ........,+.*S#####,,S@#####%.*####+.SS.+###%..%#####:.+@*.?###:,####S.;###:+%%?;+######:.?####S.+##########S*,;......... .........+,*#####%.%########,:####;.%#S#####,.*####S..?@*.?###*.?###%.;####%?*?S#####@*.,S####%.+##########?+:;......... .........::+S####;:#########:.?###:.%#######*.:####*.:#@+.*###%.,S##*.,#############@?.:S####@+.+##########*+;,......... ......:;:;:;%###S.?#########,.,##S..+@#######;.?@@S.,S##:.+@##?..:##;,.;?%%SS######S+,*######?..:##########*;+.......... ......?:;?:;?###;.?########S;,.:#S+;,*SS######*,++:;S@#S:,,?###S?::?SSSS%%?**++;+*;:*#@@#?+S+....*#########+:++:;+...... ......;**+??###*.,*###########?,:S@@S?%S######@#%%%SS%%SSS%%####@#S??***********?%*++++*:.,%S%%?+;+S#######?;;*;:*...... .....,+,;*;*%#S+%###############*;*%S##%+;++*?%?+:,,,,,..,:;+*?SS#@@@@#########S%%%SSS%??SS%???%SS%S#######S*+++*,...... ......+;;*:+?###################S????+..:%SS;....;*%S#?..*S%?*++;;;+++,*###%;:,+**+:,;%@#+.,+??:..:?######S+;+*:;+...... .........+;*%##################;:;:%@+.,#@##;.,*S#####%.,########*..,..%###S,.:#####*..+*..%@#@+.;S#######S+;+:::....... .........+:?#############S?%SS?.*#S##S,.*##+.*########%.;########*.;S..%##S#;.;#####@:..?,.?@@?.+##########+:+.......... .........+,*############*,?+.:;.:,+####?:;;.%@########%.+########:.%@;.*@?.;+.;####@%..;#S+,+*.*@##########+;;:......... ........,;,+###########%.+@#:,%.%??####@#:,;;*S#######%.*#######S.:##%.;@%.+?.;@##S*.,*#####;.,+%##########+;.+:........ .......,+.:?###########+.%##;.*.%@######;,S#%;,*######%.*#######*.*@@#,.+,+#?.,;;;.,?######?.?#?::%########+;..?:....... .......:*::%###########+.?#@;.*.%######;,S####:.*#####%.?#######;.SS?;,.:S##%.:SSS:.S####@?.?##@#,.?#######?+.;+........ ........;:;?###########%.+@S.:%.%####%;.%####@*.,#####%.*######S..;:+%%.:###%.;###%.:###S*.?@###@*.,#######S+.:*,....... .......:*,,?S###########?:*;;S%.%####%,;@#####;.:#####%.*######?..+S###:.?##%.:####*.*@#%.,#####@+.,#######S*:.+,....... .......:?.,?%#############SS#@?.%#####SS####@?..?#####*.*@#####:.*@####*.:##%.,#####,.*#@*,#####S,.+#######%*:;,........ ........;:,%##################*.%###########*..?######;.+@####?.:######?..%@*.,#####*..;%#?###@S,.;########?+:+......... ........,+:S##################;.?@#######%*:,+S######%..,#####,.?######S+:,%:..%#####S?+;;%##S*,:?@@#######++.*,........ .......;;;,?S#################S%%S%%??*++;+%#########;,..;S##+..%#######@#?;;;;%@####@@@#%:,:.,*%%?+:?#####;;.;;*....... .......?;;,*%################?;:;+*??%SS###############S%*+%#;::?###########%?*+**????*****?%*+;,,,:+S####S;:,;+*....... ......,?::,?SSSS#############%?S#########################@@#####################SS%%%SSS##@@#@######@######+:.;+*....... .:;;:,++;.+%*+;;;;;++++******????*?**???????**+**********???%%%????????????????????****??????******?***++****,,;*:;+++:. +*?;+*;;;*+,,+:.+,,*.;+.+:,+,,+,:+,:+,;;,;;::::::;;:,,;;,.,;,,,+,,,:::;;;;;;;;+,:+,;+.++,+;,+,,*,;+.+:.+,,+::;**;**:++*, *.+,.*:++?.+**+;;;+;:;;;;;;+;++;;+;;+::+;;,........,;;,:;:,,++::;:,...........;;;;:++;;;;+;;+;++;++;++;+;;++*,*:::+.+,;: ,;;;.;:;:++,+..............................................................................................:;+*:;;:,;:,. .....;;::,*:*..............................................................................................++?:::;:..... .....,;::+?+:..............................................................................................,+?+;:;:.....
............,,,,,,,:::;;;;;;;;+++*S#SS#####S?***++*+SS#S##%;%SSS*%###S%?*+*+++;+%SSS%SS%*;;;;;;:::,.................:,,; ............,,,,,,,:::;;;;;;;++*+*#######S%??%?++*?+SS%S##%;*%SS*%####SS%**+++;+*??+;+?S?+;;;;;;:::,.............,,,:,.: ...........,,,,,,,::::;;;;;;+*?%%?S##%??%SSSS%?++*?;%%%SSS%;*?%S??###SS%S?**+++;+*:,:,.+%+++;;;;::::...........::,,:,,,: ...........,,,,,,,::::;;;++++*??????**??%SS%+:,::**;*******;***SSS###S?++;;*+++++:,,,,..?*++++;;;:::..........::,,,:,,,: ...........,,,,,,,,,::::;;+;;+**+***?*??%%*,..,,,+%+####S#S;S#S######?,....:+++++....,..;*++;;:;;:::.........,;,,,.,,.., ............,,,,,,,.,,,,:;;;;::,,;????%%S%,.,,,,,:?+#####S%;?SS##SSSS*..,,,,,;++*,.,:,...:;:,,..,;::,.........::,,,,,.,, ............,,,,,,,,,,:;;;;;:,:,:,+%%%%%%;...,,,.,+:;::+S#S;?%##SSS#%:::,,..;++;:,.;:......,,,::.,:::.......,:;::,,,,,,, ............,,,,,,,,,:;;;+++:::,:,,?%?%?+:,...,.....,,,,:??;+?%SSSS##S+,....+++,..:,.......,:::,..::::...:;;;;:::::,,,.. .............,,,,,,,,:;;;;++,...,..*???;;;;,.......,::::,+?;*?%S#%SS?*:....,+++..............::...::::,..:;;;;:::,,,.,.. .............,,..::.::.,:;;:..,,...:*%?;;;;;........,,,,;SS;?%%%SS%:.........;;.............,:,..,,::::,...,,::,....,,,. ............:;,.....,...,,...,........,;;;;;:............,::+**%%S;..........,:,...........,:::,::::;;,......,,,..,:,,,. ............;;,........................;;;;;:................;?%?*............,.........:,::::::::::;;;,..,..,...,,..,,. ...........,;:.........................,,:;;,,................+++:.....................,;:::::::::::;;;;,........,,,,,,. ...........:::............................,,,,................,:;,.....................:;;::;::;;;;;:;;;;:........,,,,,. ...........,;,...............................,..................,:.....................;:,,.,,,,,::;::;;;;;:......,,,,,. ...........,;,........................,........,............::...,:...................:;,..........::,.:;;;;:,,,..,..,.. ............,,.......................,,........::,........,::,....,,.,,:;::.........,:+;,,,,,,,....:;:,,:;;;:.,,,,,,,,,. .....................................,,..........,,,....,,,...........,,:;::,::.:::,;;*::::,.:,,:;,;+;..:,,:;::;,;;::,,. ,,.......................,::.........,,............,,,::..............:,,:.:,,;.::::.:;:,,,:.,,:;:.:::,.:..;:;:;::.:,:., ,.........................,,,.........,..............,,,..............:..:.:..:.:::,,::,,.,:.:,,,:.,,;,.:.,:.;,;.:,,.:.. ......................................,..............................,,..,:,,..,,.,.,,,,,,,,,:,.,:,,,:..:.:..,::,,,,:,., ..................,..................,...............................................................,......,..........,
..............................................................................................................................................................,..................... .......................................,,........................................................................................................................................... .......................................................................................,,.,............................,;::,,,,,.................................................... ....................................................,:..........................,*+::;.+?+%:...........................:,,::,,::.,.................................................. ..............................................,,::;;;:,,,,,,,,,.................:+*+*:;*+*%*........................,..,,,;;:,,.,:,.,.......:,...................................... ...........................................,:;::,,:::,,,.,,,,................,:;*S;?:,?*++?*,,,...........................,,,,,,,,,,;:,,,..,+,...................................... .....................................:+:,:,:;;;;;;:,..,;+;;,.................;%*%?+;.,;*;;;+*++,............................,:;;:::,:;;:;,:::,::,...,;:............................. .....................................,,::::;::;;:,....,:;::,................:;?%?+*....,+,.+?%#;............................:;;:::.,::::;;+;,.,,.,:;;,.............................. .......................................,,;:;+:::::,.,,,,...................;?*++;*;.....,,.,;?S%:...........................:;+::,::,..,;;;;,..,*+:,................................ ..................................,:+,,;,,;++:,,,,,,;++;;,.................+?+?:,,,.....,+:,.;%%+.........................,.:++;;;;;;,:+;;:::;*++:.................................. .................................,,:*;;+;+;,::;:::::;:;;+:;,...............+%*;.:+:,.....,:+::*S?.........................,:;+;:,,:+;;;::,.,::?+.................................... ............................:*,..,,:+:*+;,,;;;+;..,:;:..,,,,...............,?S;.;+;,.......:,;+??,........................;+;:,.,..:;:;::,,+;;;::,.................................. .............................:;,,,...:+;:++;:+;+*::,.:::,...................+%*..*,..........;;?*............................,;;;,.,,,:,,::;,.,,,;.................................. ................................:;:...,..:+;+;;+*;:,,+;*:...................;#?,,,...,*?,....,?*+........................,;::,,::....,,:;;,,:;;;,,.................................. .................................:;::.::.;:,,:;:,....,,,,,..................,+S++,..,*S@%...,*?+;.....................,:::;:;::........,...,;;:,..,:?;.............................. ...................................:+,+,.::,.,.,....,,,,,.,,.,,:............;%?%?;..+*?@@?..+*S%;....................,::;:,..,::;;;+++;;;;::::;+?S##*............................... ..........................,,.........,;,,;.....,,...::,:,:;:,:;:.............+##S?+:?+S@#@;?S@%,.......................,:;+??%%??%%SS##@#@@@@@@@S?;,................................ ..........................:%?+::,,,,:;+*%S%%SSSS%%*+;;::;:.,,.................:S@S#S*?S#@#S@@*.....................:;+%*;+%@SSSSS@@@#@@@###%%*;,.............,...................... ...........................:?#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@%%???????+;;:,,..............,%#@@#S#@@@@@*..................,;+?+;*@*S%@#S%%*;;+:::;:,,.......................................... .............................,:+??**+*#S??%%?S##@@#@@##??*?*?%%*;,..............,#S#@@#@@@@S................,;+S%**?+#@@#%*,.........,,,,,,,,....................................... ........................,,,,...................,,+??S#@@@?*?:++?S?;,.............:#%#@@@@@@+..............:+*???#?%@#@S;,:,.,..,:::,.:;+++:;:,...................................... ...........,.......;*;:::;+**++;,.::::;::;::::;;:::..,*?%@%S??:,;*#S+,............*@@#@@@@@,............,*?:?;?*###?+:.,:;;:,,,,,:,.,:;;;;.......................................... ...........:;++:,,.,+???*?????**+;?%%%*?%??*****;+;;+,...;?%@@S%*,**?S+,..........,#@@@@@@S...........,;?++?*%#@@#+..,,,,,,::::,,,,.:;::::,......................................... ............,;?%??*+;;*??S%%%%?**??*?*;;;;;:;+*??*+;+;:,,,..+#@##S#%?%SS:..........*@@@@@@%..........,*+.;S@@@@?;,.::::..,,:,;?*???*;;+;,........................................... .......,.......:?SS#%??%?%%??%%**;:,...,:;+++???*?*+;++;;*;,.,;#@@#S?*?S#*,........:@@@@@@?.........+??%?%@@@@?.....,,::,,,:.;+????%**+++;:,........................................ ......,??+;:,....,;?%??%%%???*;,....:*%%%%%??????**+++*++;;*+:.:?#@#S##S%S%,.......,@@@@@@?........+#++#@@@@%;..,,.::,,..........,;**??%%%*++:...................................... .......:?%%%*?*;:,.:***%%%??;.....:%###SSS%%*?%?*++*****+;++*+*:.:@@@@@#?*SS:......,@@@@@@?......,?%S###@@@#:...:*::,:,............,+%???S#%*+::.................................... ........:*???%SS%?%??*?S@#*,....,?S#S###S%%???S?*+:::,::;;;;++*::,;S@@#%?%?%%;.....,@@@@@@%.....,%S*?%@@@@%:....,,,....,,,,.........,:*??*?%%?%*+,.................................. .........,+?%##S#@#S%???S%,....:SSSS??%%%?**+;**?*?*;:,......::,,..,S@@@@@@SS%;....:@@@@@@#,....*S*?S#@@@%......,....:++;*++;:.........,+*****???*+:................................ ..........,+?SS%S#S%S%?%S,....,S@SSS????%????+:,:;;;+*++;:,.........,?@@@@@##S?;...;@@@@@@@+...;%%?%@@@@%:..........,+;;;+?%%?+,.........:+***++++++*;,............................. ............:???%SS%%%?S?.....%#S@@@%*;+;:;++++,...;%@S?**+*,.........*@@@##S#%%;::%@@@S?@@@+:+??S#@@@@?...........,***;;;+%*%S%;..........:*?**++:,,::,............................ .............,++*?%S%%*S*....;@S?SS%S?+,.......,..+@@@#%*;;%?,.........+#@@@######@@@@@*:?@@@@###@@@@@@:...,:,,....;*+S;;?S@S?###+,,,,......,;**+;++,............................... ..............,:+**???*S*....*#SSS???*%?*:,......+@@@@#+,::?#;........,:+@@@@#@@@@###SS;?+?%**S@@@@@@@%;:::::,,,...*+;;;?##?%?S?#?+:;::::,:,,.,+***+;:,............................. ................,+?*?**??,...?%?%%???%????*;....?@@@@@%:;;:?#+......,:++?#@@@@#S@#S?;++*SS++*#@@@@@@@@?*;,.........:*;;:+S#+%*?%%SS%:,:;;+*?**+;+;;;++::,........................... .................,:**;*?%+...*%??%%?????%???*;.+@@@@@@@?;;;*%*.....,;+?%S@@@##???S##@#;+*+*;S@@@@@@@@@@#%?+;:,,.....+++:;S??%??%%%%@S:..,:;+?????**;::,::........................... ...................,;;+?%%;..+??%%*;;+*?????**;#@@@@@@@S;+;;?*;++*?SSS%%%%S@SS**;+?*S%:*S#%?;S@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#SS%*;+*;;+%*%%S%?%S###%:....,:+*****?*+:,............................ ...........:::.......,:+??%*,,?S??*+;:,,;++**+S@@@@@@@#@%*+:?S%#@@@@@#%%S#@@#%???***SSS@@@@@@@#SSS#@#@@@@#@@@@@S?+,.+;:;+%?S%%?%??%%%S?:.....,:++++**?*+;::,........................ ...........,;+++::,...,:;*?%*:;%??*::;::,..,,;#@@@@#@@@@#++*%S,,,+???%S@@@@@@###SS*+?S@SS#@#%??SS#@@#S**?+,:;:,.....*;*+?S%SS%+??S%?SS#?,.......,:;+;+******;:,..................... ..............,+?**+::,..:**??*%%**+,..,,....?@@@@##S@@@#?+**%?......:%#@@@@@@@?#@##S?%####*%SS@%%@@#%**:*.........,S%%%S%#@#??S%@S*%SS@?,........,:++++++*?+**,,................... ................;+*+:;*+;::;***???*+:.,.....;@@@@@###@@@@#%*+%%+,,..,+?%@@@@@@#S##?#@@S##@@@@#%?S@@@S#S%;*:,.......*?*+S%S#@#S%#%?S#%SS?#?..........,++;;;:;+****;:................. ..................,;;+??*??*******?*+:*+:...S@@@@@@@@@@@@@#%;**%+*;,.:;*S?S@@@#S??S@#@SS*?S#@@@@@@@@#?#S;:........;+;;+SS#S?##S#%S?#@S#%?%*,....:.....;;:+,.,,:;;+*+;,.............. ....................,;??*?%????*?****++*+;.;@@@@@@@@@@@####?%;?%?+***;;,;+S%@@@#?SS##@#+:;;###@@@@@@@?*#.........:*,?*?@##S?#@@@#@@%%@%%S%S+......,;;,::;;,,.....,,:+;.............. ......................:+*?%?%%%??**+*;++;+,%@@@@@@@@@##S%##?*;+?S;;;+?*;.*;;?@@@@@@@@#?,,;;%#@@@@@#%S::+........,?:;+?###%%?S@@@@#@@S%SS?SS?,.....::::::;;;:,,...................... ........................,;+?%%???***+;?:*,?@@@@@@@@@@SS#S@@#S%+*%?.,:;*+;*,.;S@@@@@@S**+,,;SS@@@@#?:;.:.........+*+;+%@@#%?%@@@@@@S#@SS%S##%*.......:,..,:;+;:,..................... ...........................:*?%??**?*+%:#,*@@@@@@@@@@@@@@SS##S?*%S:...,++;,:::?%@@##?*+%+,?#*#@@@;.............++:+:%@@@#%S@@@@@@@@@@SSS%S@##:.............:;;:,.................... .............................,;*+**+*;*,*+;@@@@@@@@@@#@@@#SSS##*?#%,.....,..,,.*##@##%?*+:*SS#@@S+;,..........;?**?S@@#@@@#@@@@@@@##@@SSS%%SS?.......,;,.....,:;;:,................. .................................,,;%++,:*;@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@S%S@@S*%S%:........,+?*?#@?+SS:,+#S#@@?+%??+;,....,+%??%@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@###@%%S#%#;.......:;........,;+;,............... ...................................+%;,..:+@@@@@#@@@@@@@@@SS#@S%??%%S+...,;+*??+;?S@@S?+;+%S@@@S+,:;++?**+:+%%SSS#@#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#S%@@#S,........,;:........,:,.............. ...................................**;....;@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#@@@#S#??SS*:+**;+,.,.+%*@S****?%S@@+:....,::+;+*%S#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#@#SS##*.........,:,........................ ...................................;S:....?@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@##%S?+;::....,..+??##?*++?S@@%?:....,,....,,;*%%@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@SS#SS@#:...........,,,,.................... ....................................*;....*@@@@@@@@@@@@@#@@@@@@@@@?;:......,,..:,;*%S@@@#%@@@@??,..............:?##@@@@@@@@@@@#@@@@@@@@@@@##@#S#%.............::,,.................. ....................................,*.....*@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#+:..............:%?%##SSS####%*,...............;S#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#S#@@*..............,:,,................ .....................................+:.....+@@@@@@@@@@@@#@@@@@S:+,...........,...*%?SSS%S#%SS%;.,:,....,......:+?@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@##S@@#@+...............,,................ .....................................*%,.,;+.;#@@@@@@@@@@S@@@@S:,+.......,:;:,,...,*?%S%S##S%%*,.,,,....:;;,.,,*??%%S@@@@@@#@@@@@@@@@#@@#@@S##S##S?................................. ....................................:@@*.,::,,,?@@@@@@@@@@@@#*:,.,.....,;;,,.......,*%?%%%##%*;...........:??%+%S%%*+S@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@S%%##@SS@SS,................................ ....................................;@@#;,.::;..;S@@@@@@@@S+,........,;?,...........+**+%%+*?*:..........,+*@*+*?%%?;;?#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#SS%@####@@?................................ ....................................%@@@#:..,;:.:+?#@@@#?:.........,:+%?...:*;......++?++*??;+,......,*%,:*+@:,,:;+?*:;?@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@S%####@##S,............................... ...................................;@##@@#,.,:,;:,;*%#*,.......,,,;**##:,..;?;.......*;+++:%,+.......,+*+?**@#+;;+;*+;;,;#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#?%SS###@#*............................... ...................................%@@@@@@S,..,+:,:;+:::......:+;+*S@@S+;;,.,,,,.:;:;*:+;+++::..,..,+?++??%@#@@*,;:;;:::,:S@@@@@@@@#@@#@@@@#%#S#@#@S?,.............................. ..................................;@@@@@@@@S,...,+*:.,:.....:+++*%@@@@@?*+*;;;;,:+?%*;;*:;*:::.:?*;:;*+*%?S#S@@@%:,;:;;:+:;S@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#S@#@###@?;.............................. ..................................S@@@@@@@@@#+...:.......,:;++?S@@@@@@@@#;+++*??S#*?++++*;?+*+**+?#@S####SSSS@@@@#*:.,,;;;::%@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@S?S@@@##?*.............................. .................................+@@@@@@@@@@@@S+,......,:;*??SS@@@@@@@@@#*+:+;;;**;++?+;+??*?%*+*S#S####@#%S@@@@@@@S+..:;:,,,:?#@@@@@@@@@@@@@#%#@@@#S?:............................. ................................,#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#?+,,,+?%##S%S%@##@@@@@@@%*:**:+*+*?;?*+;?*+***??S?%SS#@#%?S@@@@@@@@@S:...:;::.,?@@@@@@@@@@@#@@S#@@@@S*,............................ ................................+@@@@@@@@@@@@@#@#S%%%%#@@@S%%###S@@@@@@@@?%?*?**?*++*+*%+:?%;++???SS###@S%S%#@@@@@@@@@S:..;,.:,..:#@@@#@@@@@@@#S#@@@@S*;............................ ...............................,#@@@@@@@@@@@@@#@#SSS%S@@@S@SSSS%S@@@@@@@@%%?+?%#S#%S#%S?:,?%S**?;.+@@@@@@#%#SS@#@@@@@@@S::..:;;...,?@@#S#@@@@@#S%@@@@@?+,........................... ...............................+@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#@S#S%S@@@S%%#@#SS#@@@@@@@@#?S%?%%#S??*++?S%?*++++?+.#@@@@@#S@#%?%%S##@@@@%;..,,:+:,..*@@#?S@#@@#S#?#@@S#++........................... ..............................,S@@@@@@@#@@@#S#%SSSS%S@#SS%??%%###@@@@@#@@@##S?%%#:,,;;:;@##,....+?;++%#@@#%@@#%S@S%S##@@@S*:,..:++;,.+@@#?#@S#@##@%#@@@??,.......................... ..............................+@@@@@@@@#@@@S%S#%%%#SS#S%*?;;SS##@#@@@@@@@@@?*;+?S+:*%%S##+###%?*++?...,+S@S#@@@S#S#@@@S####S*;;,,:,;,.+@@#S@@%S#S##?#@##**.......................... .............................,#@@@@@@@@@@@S%S%%##S@##@@*?+:.:*#@@#@@@@@@@%+;++;%SS##@@@@#:#@@@#*+#S*:.,,,;SS##@SS?%S#S%?%?SS::+**;,:,:,;S@S%#S%?#%SS##SSS%,......................... .............................*@@@@@@@@@@@SSS@#S@#SS?#%??;,...:#S@*#@@@@#;:+:;?#@@@#SS%S@#:#@%+;?##@@#%;::.:?SS@@#S%S##%%%;;?;..,;*%+::.:;?####@#S#%S##SSS*+......................... ............................,@@@@@@@@@@#%?##S###SS+%**?:......;*+,#@%*%,,+:;%SSS#@@###@@%;+::?#@@@@@@##?:..,;#S@@%####%S%;.,,.....:%%+,+:.,,::;*?#@#@SS#S*%,........................ ............................%@@@@@@@@#@%%#@@#@@#%*?+??,...........;+:?,.:,+S@#%SS####%%??%?SS?%#@@@#@###S+..,+S##+*?#%:,,...........**:,....,,,:;;++?#S#S%%+........................ ...........................;@@@@@@@@@@S?#@#@##%+?***+,.......,:::::;?+,,.;S######SSS+*S##@S@@@S;S##S@@#@@@+;;:::::+;;:;;++;:.........+;...,:;;:*@S#S%S@%#SS?,....................... ..........................,#@@@@@@@@@#SSS@@#?%??*+,........,;+;,;::::::::*SSS@@##S#;;#@@S;;@@#@;+###@@#S*:,.,,...,%@##%%?*???*:......,;+,.,:++;.*@@@##@S%##S*....................... ..........................?@@@@@@@@@#?*S@@%*%??*:.........,?+++;;;++;;,..,.,:?##@?S.S@@@%.,#@@@*:@#@S?:..,;+%+...,;?%##@@#S%%SS?:......:*:,++:+;:%##@@S@S@@S?;...................... .........................+@@@@@@@@@#?S%S#S%?*++,..........+?***+;+*S%?+;,*%+..,;%SS;*@@@?..?@@%:?@?+++,;*%##?,:,...,;+?%S#@@@#SS%+......,;:;+:*:;,+###SS%#@#**...................... ........................:@@@@@@@@@S%%S;###%*,...........,+??;,.......:;*;,?#%:...:+***?S;..*S*+*?::+?S###S*;:;*;.....,;+*?S#@@@##?;.......,:::;;;;:*%#@S#%@#%%;..................... ........................%@@@@@@@@%*%@;*##%;,..........,;*+,.....,;+*+;,...,:*S?,.,.,;*+++;:++;;++?S#S%+:,..,::,,.......,+**%@@@@@??,...........,:;+;*@##@#S@#%*,.................... .......................+@@@@@@@#S+%#%++*:,..........:+;:...........,;?S?;,...:?%+*%*:::,,,,:;*S@@@S+,,;;;,.....,........,;+*?#@@@%%;.............,:+@@S#S#S#S??;.................... ......................:@@@@@@@@@*%@#?:............,;;,................,*#S+,...:?%?%SS??+*?%#@@#%*:,;;;:..,,;+;:.,;:......,;**S@@@%+...............,+S######@#?%,................... .....................,%@@@@@@@#?S@*+;..........,.,+:....................:?S%+,...,*%%SS#S%S%@@?;?%,,...:+;::;:...,:,.......:+**S@@@;.................,*%##@@@##?+................... .....................*@@@@@@@@SS@;...............*;..........,,,..,,,....,;?SS*,....:;++**?%@*,?S*,.,:;;,..,,:+?%S%S*;......,;*?S@#,...................,*@@#@@@%%,.................. ....................:@@@@@@@@@#?:...............,%....,;:,...,:::,,;:,,....,;?S#?;:?*+**?%#@S*,;*::.,,,,;?%%?***?S#@@#,.......:*?#@:.....................*@##@@#?*.................. ....................%@@@@@@@S;:.................;S,..:,,+;,......,.:,;:......:+?SS?%%#@##@#%?S:.,,:;*?%%?+:,,?S%*::::,,........;*%@*......................+#@%@@SS:................. ...................:@@@@%S%?,...................,#%;:;+;,,,::,,......,.....,,:,++*%#SS?S@@@???%+*##S?;:,,..,,+;::;;;;;,........,*%##,......................;S**@@#?................. ...................%@@@*,+;,.....................?@#%?*++;:,,,,,...........,;+*,;****?*?%#S?*+S@#?:..:;;**;**??%*++............,?%%S;............,,...........,?@@#;................ ..................,@@S*..........................,?@@SS?*+:::,,:,,...,..,....,;:.+;:,.,*?S??*%S+,.:;;+??%SS@@###%?+:,,.........,%%%S+............:*?+:..........+@##,............... ..................;#?;............................,?@###%%*;;:,:::,..,::;,,....,::,.,+*%S??+?+,:;+?%?%@@@@##@#SSSSS*;,..,;:;++*%###S,..............;SS?;,........;#@?............... ..................,,................................+@@@#@#S%*;;;;:,,..........,:::.,%SS?++%*:;;;**?%#@@@@@##%%%%?*????++;??S#@#@@S:................,?S%S+,.......:?S,.............. .....................................................;#@@@##@#SS?*+++;::,.,?**+**??**?S?*%@@S%??++++++++*?%%SSS%%%%??%?%#S###@#S#%:..................,??S@S:........,............... ......................,,,,,,,,,:::::::,,::::::,.......:%@@@#S#@@@@S%%??**+:+;+++*****%S##@@%;::;*?*?*+;::,.,,,,,:;;;;;+**%SSS#S%*,....................:%?@@#:....................... ...................,+;;;;;;;;:::;:::+++;+;;:;::.........;#@@@@#####@@@@@##S%%%%%%SS##@@@#%+:;+S@#SS##???*???*:,;??%***???%SS#%*:.......................?%S##%,...................... ....................,::;;;;;;::::;++**++**++;;::,:,......,?@@@@@@@##@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#?++*?%S#@@@#%***??**+*%S#@@@@@@@@@SS#;..........................+%%S##;...................... ..................,:::;::;;;;::::::,;;;;;+;;;:,,,,,........;S@@@@@@@@@@#@@@@@@@@@@@@#%+;;*%@@@#%?*+++++++++*?%%%%*%?SSS%?S*,...........................*%%#@@?...................... ...................,:+:*+:;;*;;;:;;;;;+;+++++;:,............:S######@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#?*:+%#@@#%?+:;;++;;;;+;++*;;;+*++?++%#S,...........................,SS#@@@%...................... .....................,:;++;*?+;;+*+++;****++*++**+:::,,,,,,.:??%#@@#@@@@@@@@@@@@#SS?SS@@@@#SS%?%%%?**+;+*****???%?%S#SSSSS,...........................*S%%###*...................... .........................,.**+?%S@SS##@##@#####%?*+;;;++++;,,%???%S##@@@@@@@@@#S%%#@@@@@@@###@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@##S%S%S#S%%*+?,.........................,*%%%S##S,...................... ..........................;*S#@#SS#@@@@@##@@##@S*+;::;:;;;;;,*????***?SS#@#SS#S#S@#@@@@SS?%S%*?SSS##@@@#S#@@@@@@#S???*+++?,........................:?%%%S##S:....................... ......................:;++*+%S##SS#######@#@@S%*+;;:::;:;;:;:;:++*?**?SSSSS?????SSS##%%%?%S%?*%%S%%%%S#SS%SS#S#@@S#+;++++*:.....................,;?%%S#@##S:........................ ....................,,,:+%#S%?*#@@@SSSSS####@#SS%+;;::;;;,..,*;::::;+##%%%?**S??%%?%%%?????*+**?%??%%%%%SSSS%?%SS%*;+++++*:......,:,.......,,:;+?%SS###S%+,......................... ....................+*+*S@@@##S#@@@@@@@####%%%S@#S*;;;;;;,,.,+;;+;+*%%S?**???S%%%?*+***???*++**??**++***??%%%%*?%SS?*;;;+*:......,;?%%%??????%%%?SSS#%*;,........................... .....................,+?SS@@#@@@@@##@@@@#@##S%#@@#%%;;+;,;;:,++???%%??%%??%%%?%SSSS#%%%%%?%##@####SSS???***?S%+***%S@?;++*;.........:+?%SS#####?????+,.....:;:,::::................. .................,..:,::..;+*@@@@@@@###@#@####@#S#S%++?+:+*;.+SS%?*?**????%%#S%%S#S#SS%%%?%S@@@@@@@@@@@#S%?*%%;*?*S@#S?+++:.............,,:::::,,.......,:,,::,:,................... .................+:,*,:++....:?#@@@@@@###@#S##@@SS?%%*++;;::+?@S??*%%?%???S%#%?????%??%S%?%%S##@@@@@@@@@@##S%?***%S%%?%S**:................:;;::,,,,,,:;:,,,:::;,................... .................,;;;+..;;;*;*%###@@@@#####SS##@SS?*::,,:;+**?#?**+%%%%%?**++;++;;++***??%%?%??%#@@@@@@@@@@@@%%?*#%+???##S?+:,.......,::;+?%%*++;:::;;;;:,,,::::,................... .....................:;,;+:S@@@@#S#@#@@##SSS%#%**+;:.,;**?????S++*%???+;++;:,::;:;;;++**???%%**?%#@@@@@@@@@@@@#?%%*+*??S@@@#%?+:.,:;;++;;;?%%?*??***?:;++:,,;;;:,.,,................ ......................,::;+%*;%??SSSS#@#SSS*%S;,..,;**?%%S%??*%*+S%*%:,,,,,,;;;+;;;;;++**???%??????%#@@@@@@@@@@@%%?*;;;%@@@@@S%%**+;+*??**+%S%%%%%*?*++??*+::::;;::,................ ........................,,:;**%%S####S#@#%?%%?+,,;**??%%%?*+;::+;;?%:.........,::;::;++;+**??**??%%?%#@@@@@@@@@@S??S?+*@@@@@@S%%?%S#@@#S%SSS@#SSS%%#%????*:::::,..,,................ ......................,,,+*+**%%?SS%%#S##%?%*++;***?%%??**;;::::,.,:.....,......,:;:;;;+;;+****????S%?SS@@@@@@@@@@%S@%@@@@@@@@#SS%??S@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#%%+:.,,,,,,:::,................ ......................::::;*%S?%%S##%%%%##S%??**%SSS????*+;:?+;,:+:.:+.,*++.+,.::.,;;:+*+;:;***?????S%%SS#S@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@%?*?S@@@@@@@@@@@##***+**%;;+::,................... ......................,:;;;+#S#%S?#@######S?*???SSS%??**+;;,*+;.+*:,*,.+*:,:?::?,,;**:+**;;;***???%%S#SS##@@@#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#S%%??#@@@@@@@@@@%?**?*++;,:.:;+;:,............... ...................,,,::;;;;;??+%S#@@@@@#SS+;+%%?%%?*++?++;;::,,:::,,,,:,..::..:,,:,;;+**;;+****??%%%%SS##@SSS#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@##%*%@@@@@@@@%;;*+*:::,.,+:+;:,................ ...................,;:,,,,+??%SS#@@@@#@@##?**?S#S%?+++?;+;*?+:,?,++.++....;+++++;::+:;++;;;;+**??%%#S%%S@@@@@S#S#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@#S%SS####@#?%?%?*+:::::;+,................... .....................,::++%#@@@@@@@@@@@@@@######%**+;??*?;**+;:*::.,?:,,,:*;+:?+;,%;+;+++++**??%%###SSSSS##@@@#@#%%S%%SSSS##@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@S???*???%???*++;;+,,,,,.................. ....................,:;;;;;;++*%SS%###@@#####S%?**+**;;*****+*+++*++;;++++;++;;:,.,,,,:;;;;;++;+**+*++*++*???????????*????%S%?%?%S##S@@@%*%%#S%%?*+;;:;+++;+*??++;.................. ...................................,,,::,,.........,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,...................,,,,,:;;:;;;;;;::++;:::,,,.........,.,::+*?**?%?:.,,++*+++++++;;....,,,,,,.................. ...................................................,.......,..............,,...................................................,....................................................
Here you can inquire, learn, read lyrics, find collection albums, cassettes, vinyl, cd's. This database makes it easy to find objects to buy in a store such as ebay, amazon, alibaba, etc.