LOADING DATA
Sacriphyx
Members | |
---|---|
Neilanderthal | Drums |
Member(bands): Across the Scarlet Moat, Innsmouth, Stone Wings, Murkrat, Elysium, Pogrom, Grenade | |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Member(bands): Johnny Touch, Ghastly, Misery’s Omen, Myrddraal |
# | Discography | Type | Year | |
---|---|---|---|---|
1 | Lone Pine | Demo | 2007 | Show album |
2 | Sacriphyx / StarGazer | Split | 2009 | Show album |
3 | Peninsula of Graves / Black Mass of Pazzuzu | Split | 2010 | Show album |
4 | Sacriphyx | Compilation | 2013 | Show album |
5 | The Western Front | Full-length | 2013 | Show album |
Lone Pine
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
June 6th, 2007 | Independent | CD | Slimcase | |
2008 | Nuclear War Now! Productions | ANTI-GOTH 095 | 7" vinyl |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Lone Pine | 02:56 | Show lyrics |
Grunting with exertion they pried up the log roof Those hardened Diggers who seemed somewhat aloof Their snarling faces glared into the darkness below Blackened figures hardly seen, swaying to and fro. Curses uncounted and fighting unseen In darkness they fought amidst uncanny screams Inm pine covered trenches they night quickly came An unlikely victory in a doomed campaign. Twenty minutes of terror and they took the main trench A prelude to four days fighting in a nauseating stench But Lone Pine was for the keeping A worthy victory at last Though with two thousand casualties the cost, it seems so vast. |
|||
2. | Victory of Withdrawal | 06:56 | Show lyrics |
The decision had been made We must leave this fatal shore But at what cost to the Diggers Three thousand, maybe four? To leave dead cobbers behind To go and fight in the real war So many mixed emotions For the Australian, New Zealand army corps First steps had been taken To deceive the now honoured Turk For him to think we’ll be staying To continue the siege work From high ground the Turks could see A game of cricket of Shell Green The running between wickets Under shell fire ’What a scene!’ Diggers walking in circles Carrying water for a laugh The Turks spotted nothing unusual Yet another classic bluff ANZACs farewelled their fallen cobbers For the time had finally come To leave the place by boat Kept warm by the nip of rum Not a Digger killed The Turks were truly deceived Rifles still fired on the ridges Time delayed rifles, who would believe. |
|||
09:52 |
Sacriphyx / StarGazer
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
July 2009 | Nuclear War Now! Productions | ANTI-GOTH 124 | 12" vinyl | |
December 2009 | Nuclear War Now! Productions | ANTI-GOTH 124 | 7" vinyl |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
StarGazer | |
The Great Righteous Destroyer | Bass, Vocals |
The Serpent Inquisitor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Selenium | Drums |
Sacriphyx | |
Neilanderthal | Drums, Lyrics |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Damon Good | Recording (Side B) |
Aaron Cooper | Artwork |
Nick Seja | Recording |
S. Berserker | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Sacriphyx - A.J. Shout VC | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
A carpenter at reschs brewery and veteran of the Boer War A regular at Randwick rifle range and yet he urged for more So when England declared war on Germany, Australia did as well Alfred John Shout swapped chisel for rifle for in war he did excel Captain Shout was soon known as a cheery, well liked and brave man And on landing at ANZAC cove into and at the enemy he did ran He led an advance and captured territory known as Baby 700 Captured Turks were stunned as their belongings were quickly plundered At Gaba Tepe although wounded, carried more than a dozen injured mates Out of the firing line, to safety and out of reach of a doomed fate Injured again his arm shattered but he refused to go to the rear Third time wounded amidst his protests, from the line he was dragged clear Then came the fateful day, he was thirty three and one day old Clearing Sasse’s Sap at Line Pine his VC medal citation is told He charged through trenches with Captain Sasse who stabbed and shot Whilst Shout used jam tin bombs to lob at all the Turks he spot He lit three at the one time in preparation for the next assault These crude homemade devices contained bullet shells and bolts He threw one down the way and was about to lob another When one of the remaining two was faulty and blew asunder The explosion took his right hand, his left eye and part of his chin Those near were shocked this red haired digger still managed to grin Though hideously maimed and bleeding freely he directed the attack In time stretcher bearers came and took his weakened body down the track He remained positive that he would heal and soon return to the front But those around him knew Lone Pine would be his final stunt On ship on route to hospital, his heart failed, his soul set free This brave VC winner died a hero and was solemnly buried at sea |
|||
Side B | |||
2. | StarGazer - Tryaal by Obsidian | 07:10 | Show lyrics |
Tryaal by obsidian Black sire of polarities Twin pyramids, mirroring my anti-christ Twin pyramids, a beacon to my Christ Black sire of polarities Quantum Man of Mer Twin pyramids, mirroring my anti-christ Twin pyramids, a beacon to my Christ Frozen images, glaring gibbous from the hewn and cut womb Primality transmogrified Hypnotized The conscious streaming into celestite vortice A tap to the absolution Quantum Man of Mer Hydras locked in a trivial orbit Lonesome Hydrae Enveloped in Infinite And ignorant of the All But it is mortality restored to ignorance We chose before the Fall Lonesome Hydrae Enveloped in Finite Quantum Man in black Quantum Man of Mer |
|||
14:27 |
Peninsula of Graves / Black Mass of Pazzuzu
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Sacriphyx - The Nek | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Sacriphyx - Quinn’s Post | 05:21 | Show lyrics |
Up Monash Valley he slipped and strained Amongst a company of the 4th brigade To a post filled with the dead and the maimed On Gallipoli where the legend was made The rumor had spread far and wide Of Quinn’s Post where a few could survive Bombs coming in like an evening tide Where only death, flies, and lice could thrive A frantic arrival, a mad dash to the trench Sniper rifle firing a welcoming chant Unburied bodies and their gut turning stench A vacant eyed digger and his mumbling chant "A day in hell doesn’t equal An hour in these trenches Take me back to the Wazza With those buxom wenches" Trenches so close you can hear a Turk cough No smoking at the front, you’ll get us all shot A noise to the front, jam tin bombs thrown aloft Fuses too long, the bastards returned the lot. |
|||
3. | Sacriphyx - Shell Shock | 03:09 | Show lyrics |
Buried alive yet once again, the earth heaves as though it breathes A deafening roar and a wave of soil, the taste of dirt in the mouth it leaves Dug out yet again by mates so dear It’s not the shrapnel now we fear Buried for a minute you feel your mind slipping away The second time it happens your nerves begin to fray An unending barrage in this brown desolation My soul has been shaken to its foundation. |
|||
4. | Sacriphyx - Peninsula of Graves | 06:17 | Show lyrics |
The boats they held thirty Strong tanned arms rowed them true In front up high on ridges Awaited turkish machine gun crews Had they known what would happen Once the boats scrapped the rocky shore The would have bloody well rowed faster To begin the terribly futile war 4:30 arrived with bullets Death came raining down Australians fell in numbers As they leapt from boat to ground 25th of April, morning of the brave The peak of adventure A Peninsula of Graves Many escaped death and injury Adrenalin sent them up the slopes The first to kill a Turk Were many a man’s hopes They were told to spare their bullets The bayonet they were to use This was to the diggers’ liking The hellish landing had lit their short fuse They swept Johnny Turk before them Dug in on ridges high They would get not much further Though months would pass ’em by 25th of April, mourning of the brave The peak of adventure A Peninsula of Graves. |
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Side B | |||
5. | Resuscitator - Intro / Resuscitator | 05:52 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Resuscitator - Pazzuzu | 04:42 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
7. | Resuscitator - Black Mass | 04:13 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
34:29 |
Sacriphyx
Members | |
---|---|
Miscellaneous staff | |
Sean Hinds | Mastering |
Mark Reategui | Layout |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Lone Pine | 02:56 | Show lyrics |
Grunting with exertion they pried up the log roof Those hardened Diggers who seemed somewhat aloof Their snarling faces glared into the darkness below Blackened figures hardly seen, swaying to and fro. Curses uncounted and fighting unseen In darkness they fought amidst uncanny screams Inm pine covered trenches they night quickly came An unlikely victory in a doomed campaign. Twenty minutes of terror and they took the main trench A prelude to four days fighting in a nauseating stench But Lone Pine was for the keeping A worthy victory at last Though with two thousand casualties the cost, it seems so vast. |
|||
2. | Victory of Withdrawal | 06:56 | Show lyrics |
The decision had been made We must leave this fatal shore But at what cost to the Diggers Three thousand, maybe four? To leave dead cobbers behind To go and fight in the real war So many mixed emotions For the Australian, New Zealand army corps First steps had been taken To deceive the now honoured Turk For him to think we’ll be staying To continue the siege work From high ground the Turks could see A game of cricket of Shell Green The running between wickets Under shell fire ’What a scene!’ Diggers walking in circles Carrying water for a laugh The Turks spotted nothing unusual Yet another classic bluff ANZACs farewelled their fallen cobbers For the time had finally come To leave the place by boat Kept warm by the nip of rum Not a Digger killed The Turks were truly deceived Rifles still fired on the ridges Time delayed rifles, who would believe. |
|||
3. | A.J. Shout VC | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
A carpenter at reschs brewery and veteran of the Boer War A regular at Randwick rifle range and yet he urged for more So when England declared war on Germany, Australia did as well Alfred John Shout swapped chisel for rifle for in war he did excel Captain Shout was soon known as a cheery, well liked and brave man And on landing at ANZAC cove into and at the enemy he did ran He led an advance and captured territory known as Baby 700 Captured Turks were stunned as their belongings were quickly plundered At Gaba Tepe although wounded, carried more than a dozen injured mates Out of the firing line, to safety and out of reach of a doomed fate Injured again his arm shattered but he refused to go to the rear Third time wounded amidst his protests, from the line he was dragged clear Then came the fateful day, he was thirty three and one day old Clearing Sasse’s Sap at Line Pine his VC medal citation is told He charged through trenches with Captain Sasse who stabbed and shot Whilst Shout used jam tin bombs to lob at all the Turks he spot He lit three at the one time in preparation for the next assault These crude homemade devices contained bullet shells and bolts He threw one down the way and was about to lob another When one of the remaining two was faulty and blew asunder The explosion took his right hand, his left eye and part of his chin Those near were shocked this red haired digger still managed to grin Though hideously maimed and bleeding freely he directed the attack In time stretcher bearers came and took his weakened body down the track He remained positive that he would heal and soon return to the front But those around him knew Lone Pine would be his final stunt On ship on route to hospital, his heart failed, his soul set free This brave VC winner died a hero and was solemnly buried at sea |
|||
4. | The Nek | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
A narrowing of the vision and a tightening of the chest We are told to hop the bags I guess the officers know best A harrowing of the vision and an uncanny lack of breath The first waves failed before us, charged into certain death Corpses piled above us, minutes before were fit young men Can’t the officers see the slaughter will happen once again I now wait for the whistle, its sharp call shall send me to my grave I tremble and despair, a quick death is all that I now crave We step onto the firing step from which we shall push forth No bullets in our rifles, our bayonets pointing north My vision it is blurring from a stream of uncontrollable tears I farewell the bloke beside me, his eyes mirror my own fears. |
|||
5. | Quinn’s Post | 05:20 | Show lyrics |
Up Monash Valley he slipped and strained Amongst a company of the 4th brigade To a post filled with the dead and the maimed On Gallipoli where the legend was made The rumor had spread far and wide Of Quinn’s Post where a few could survive Bombs coming in like an evening tide Where only death, flies, and lice could thrive A frantic arrival, a mad dash to the trench Sniper rifle firing a welcoming chant Unburied bodies and their gut turning stench A vacant eyed digger and his mumbling chant "A day in hell doesn’t equal An hour in these trenches Take me back to the Wazza With those buxom wenches" Trenches so close you can hear a Turk cough No smoking at the front, you’ll get us all shot A noise to the front, jam tin bombs thrown aloft Fuses too long, the bastards returned the lot. |
|||
6. | Shell Shock | 03:07 | Show lyrics |
Buried alive yet once again, the earth heaves as though it breathes A deafening roar and a wave of soil, the taste of dirt in the mouth it leaves Dug out yet again by mates so dear It’s not the shrapnel now we fear Buried for a minute you feel your mind slipping away The second time it happens your nerves begin to fray An unending barrage in this brown desolation My soul has been shaken to its foundation. |
|||
7. | Peninsula of Graves | 06:16 | Show lyrics |
The boats they held thirty Strong tanned arms rowed them true In front up high on ridges Awaited turkish machine gun crews Had they known what would happen Once the boats scrapped the rocky shore The would have bloody well rowed faster To begin the terribly futile war 4:30 arrived with bullets Death came raining down Australians fell in numbers As they leapt from boat to ground 25th of April, morning of the brave The peak of adventure A Peninsula of Graves Many escaped death and injury Adrenalin sent them up the slopes The first to kill a Turk Were many a man’s hopes They were told to spare their bullets The bayonet they were to use This was to the diggers’ liking The hellish landing had lit their short fuse They swept Johnny Turk before them Dug in on ridges high They would get not much further Though months would pass ’em by 25th of April, mourning of the brave The peak of adventure A Peninsula of Graves. |
|||
36:45 |
The Western Front
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
February 15th, 2013 | Nuclear War Now! Productions | ANTI-GOTH 235 | CD | |
February 15th, 2013 | Nuclear War Now! Productions | ANTI-GOTH 235 | 12" vinyl |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Neilanderthal | Drums |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Neilanderthal | Mixing, Logo, Layout |
Anthony Till | Mixing |
Damon Good | Mixing |
Mark Appleton | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | The Western Front | 03:27 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Buried Behind the Lines | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Draped over the trench, a bloated and sickening corpse Staring down from above with its leering vacant eyes Its mouth slightly ajar, perhaps in a mocking smirk Its skin seems alive with a hundred flies For a while the war is forgotten As I ponder this ghastly sight Am I accustomed to this horror? Should it still cause me to fright? His uniform is German, my rifle sights have spotted many Not for want has my bolt hit home, my trigger squeezed asunder They are no personal enemy of mine, the German Private soldier I’ve shared a beer with one back home in simpler times Down Under So i feel I must write to the parents of this Soldier Give him a proper funeral, for his honour as well as mine Tell them I knew him not but felt sad for this grinning corpse And mark a map where he was buried within the Australian lines |
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3. | Fatal Fromelles | 06:04 | Show lyrics |
Not often will you hear the tale of damned Fromelles A battle tried forgotten where great sorrow dwells The worst twenty four hours in our history of Australia An unnecessary battle and a complete bloody failure Orchestrated by a British Corp. Commander This bloke is the subject of cruel yet just slander For he had learnt nothing from his past planned disasters So Australians fell thick and fast on dead foreign pastures A feint to draw the Germans away from the Somme Started with a seven hour barrage of bombs But the Germans from their high ground could see That a feint was all it was going to be It was the first major battle by Australians in France Welcome to the Western Front, they stood not a chance Cut down by a weapon underrated at Haig In shell holes and graves countless Australians were laid |
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4. | Without a Trace | 06:03 | Show lyrics |
My surroundings are bleak Stretcher bearers do I seek A wasteland of churned earth Bearing pain for all I’m worth For hours under French sun I’ve lain wounded from Hun gun In a damn shallow shell hole From which to rid is my goal No more water at my hip A dead foes water do I sip A healable wound but in this sun Is worse than injury by gun Of a sudden movement I see Believing I shall soon be free But coming closer now to see They are Germans numbering three They are kind, they dress my wound Tell me Australians are coming soon Fill my bottle, shade my face Then they leave without a trace |
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5. | The Crawling Horror | 04:36 | Show lyrics |
These beasts of steel seemed injured With their squealing unwholesome sounds Its awkward movements seems so painful Mastery over no-mans land though found Its visibility was useless Their hides surprisingly weak Its bulk screamed Industrial age Forever crawling, This iron cage Lurching, crawling, terrifying Overheating, understeering, stalling Cursing, sobbing, heartbreaking Thrown into battle untried Hoping to over run, cause mass panic and outflank But hopeless was the maiden outing of the Mark I Tank |
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6. | Damn Passchendaele Ridge | 02:31 | Show lyrics |
An endless bog A sea of mud A foul smelling mire Of blood and guts A wasteland of soggy brown No other colour to be found In this both men and mule drown Was this really once a town? The shells keep on coming Is this place not miserable enough? Can’t keep dry, can’t keep safe Oh boy are we doing it tough And the rain keeps on falling And the War will not stop We are told to fix bayonets Over sandbags we must hop But our artillery is useless Not enough guns made it to the front So in the bog we get torn to pieces Because our heavy artillery had sunk Damn this war Damn the weather Damn the generals to the rear Damn the bullets Damn the shrapnel Damn this Passchendaele Ridge |
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7. | Food for the Front | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
From the field kitchen he did troop With two canisters filled with soup His feet felt old and his aching limbs felt numb He had promised his mates with soup he’d come So alone he continued through trenches and raped earth Concentrating on not spilling soup for all he was worth But the way it was long and the burden was great Stray bombs landed near, was he now tempting fate Reasonably quiet on the front but he knew snipers well Though the land seemed dead still they would dwell Before the war he was a wanderer, a swagman if you will Humping his drum through valleys, plains and over hill His Billy on his swag had now popped into his head For similar was the containers that now weighed him down like lead A stray shell landed near and his mind returned to the job He quickened his awkward walk as his heart began to throb When a shell landed nearer and a container was rent asunder He stared in disbelief then his cursed raped the air like thunder He sat the last one down and took a little rest The freight it had knocked the wind from his chest He rubbed his eyes and it seemed rather strange to him That his usually faultless vision was now going dim He was now confused at where he was, why was he sitting down? Why was he dressed in khaki, what’s this red fluid on the ground? He had not felt the shrapnel that had torn a hole in his side In the mud of a ruined trench he closed his eyes and died |
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8. | Wells of Beersheba | 05:12 | Show lyrics |
Harry Chauvel was running out of time, he needed Beersheba now Infantry would take too long so the question now was how A charge he though, yes that would do, they would not expect that His mind was set so he called forward his men for a little chat In sight of the Turks, they lined up in three rows Hoping this untried tactic would deliver the fatal blow They were eager for the fight and eager for the charge The dust stirred up by the horses left most blokes parched Then the talk suddenly stopped and the dust began to settle Formation of troops now complete, the sound of feet on stirrup metal The Light Horse men looked at each other and glanced across the plain A look of steely determination as the stroked their horse’s manes Under thigh they could feel the tension of their horses That the beasts needed water their masters felt remorse Well they stroked their horses heads and whispered in their ears That the wells of Beersheba were tantalizingly near The signal came and Brigadier Grant did lead The Lighthorsemen towards valiant deed The trot turned to gallop in no time at all Gallop to charge when the shrapnel began to fall Their rifles slung over shoulder, their bayonets came to hand They cursed the Turkish Arabs as they sped across their land The Turkish artillery had started and a few fine soldiers fell But still they charged towards their goal, the famed Beersheba’s Wells The clouds of dust, distant roar and flashing bayonets in the setting sun Dread the cause for Turks to forget to change the sights on their guns Machine guns poured lead and rifle fire did the same But again the guns sights was the reason for lousy aim Of a sudden they were upon them, diving from horse to ground Whilst other rode ahead to harass others to be found They hacked down upon the heads of Turks with bayonet and fist And headed back to the front trenches for others they had missed Turks surrounded in droves whilst others fought in groups Harshly they were dealt with by the mounted infantry troops Within an hour the battle was won and their horses drunk their fill For the risk involved against great odds, small was the butchers bill |
|||
37:37 |
Lone Pine
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Lone Pine | 02:56 | Show lyrics |
Grunting with exertion they pried up the log roof Those hardened Diggers who seemed somewhat aloof Their snarling faces glared into the darkness below Blackened figures hardly seen, swaying to and fro. Curses uncounted and fighting unseen In darkness they fought amidst uncanny screams Inm pine covered trenches they night quickly came An unlikely victory in a doomed campaign. Twenty minutes of terror and they took the main trench A prelude to four days fighting in a nauseating stench But Lone Pine was for the keeping A worthy victory at last Though with two thousand casualties the cost, it seems so vast. |
|||
2. | Victory of Withdrawal | 06:56 | Show lyrics |
The decision had been made We must leave this fatal shore But at what cost to the Diggers Three thousand, maybe four? To leave dead cobbers behind To go and fight in the real war So many mixed emotions For the Australian, New Zealand army corps First steps had been taken To deceive the now honoured Turk For him to think we’ll be staying To continue the siege work From high ground the Turks could see A game of cricket of Shell Green The running between wickets Under shell fire ’What a scene!’ Diggers walking in circles Carrying water for a laugh The Turks spotted nothing unusual Yet another classic bluff ANZACs farewelled their fallen cobbers For the time had finally come To leave the place by boat Kept warm by the nip of rum Not a Digger killed The Turks were truly deceived Rifles still fired on the ridges Time delayed rifles, who would believe. |
|||
09:52 |
Lone Pine
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Lone Pine | 02:56 | Show lyrics |
Grunting with exertion they pried up the log roof Those hardened Diggers who seemed somewhat aloof Their snarling faces glared into the darkness below Blackened figures hardly seen, swaying to and fro. Curses uncounted and fighting unseen In darkness they fought amidst uncanny screams Inm pine covered trenches they night quickly came An unlikely victory in a doomed campaign. Twenty minutes of terror and they took the main trench A prelude to four days fighting in a nauseating stench But Lone Pine was for the keeping A worthy victory at last Though with two thousand casualties the cost, it seems so vast. |
|||
Side B | |||
2. | Victory of Withdrawal | 06:56 | Show lyrics |
The decision had been made We must leave this fatal shore But at what cost to the Diggers Three thousand, maybe four? To leave dead cobbers behind To go and fight in the real war So many mixed emotions For the Australian, New Zealand army corps First steps had been taken To deceive the now honoured Turk For him to think we’ll be staying To continue the siege work From high ground the Turks could see A game of cricket of Shell Green The running between wickets Under shell fire ’What a scene!’ Diggers walking in circles Carrying water for a laugh The Turks spotted nothing unusual Yet another classic bluff ANZACs farewelled their fallen cobbers For the time had finally come To leave the place by boat Kept warm by the nip of rum Not a Digger killed The Turks were truly deceived Rifles still fired on the ridges Time delayed rifles, who would believe. |
|||
09:52 |
Sacriphyx / StarGazer
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
StarGazer | |
The Great Righteous Destroyer | Bass, Vocals |
The Serpent Inquisitor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Selenium | Drums |
Sacriphyx | |
Neilanderthal | Drums, Lyrics |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Damon Good | Recording (Side B) |
Aaron Cooper | Artwork |
Nick Seja | Recording |
S. Berserker | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Sacriphyx - A.J. Shout VC | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
A carpenter at reschs brewery and veteran of the Boer War A regular at Randwick rifle range and yet he urged for more So when England declared war on Germany, Australia did as well Alfred John Shout swapped chisel for rifle for in war he did excel Captain Shout was soon known as a cheery, well liked and brave man And on landing at ANZAC cove into and at the enemy he did ran He led an advance and captured territory known as Baby 700 Captured Turks were stunned as their belongings were quickly plundered At Gaba Tepe although wounded, carried more than a dozen injured mates Out of the firing line, to safety and out of reach of a doomed fate Injured again his arm shattered but he refused to go to the rear Third time wounded amidst his protests, from the line he was dragged clear Then came the fateful day, he was thirty three and one day old Clearing Sasse’s Sap at Line Pine his VC medal citation is told He charged through trenches with Captain Sasse who stabbed and shot Whilst Shout used jam tin bombs to lob at all the Turks he spot He lit three at the one time in preparation for the next assault These crude homemade devices contained bullet shells and bolts He threw one down the way and was about to lob another When one of the remaining two was faulty and blew asunder The explosion took his right hand, his left eye and part of his chin Those near were shocked this red haired digger still managed to grin Though hideously maimed and bleeding freely he directed the attack In time stretcher bearers came and took his weakened body down the track He remained positive that he would heal and soon return to the front But those around him knew Lone Pine would be his final stunt On ship on route to hospital, his heart failed, his soul set free This brave VC winner died a hero and was solemnly buried at sea |
|||
Side B | |||
2. | StarGazer - Tryaal by Obsidian | 07:10 | Show lyrics |
Tryaal by obsidian Black sire of polarities Twin pyramids, mirroring my anti-christ Twin pyramids, a beacon to my Christ Black sire of polarities Quantum Man of Mer Twin pyramids, mirroring my anti-christ Twin pyramids, a beacon to my Christ Frozen images, glaring gibbous from the hewn and cut womb Primality transmogrified Hypnotized The conscious streaming into celestite vortice A tap to the absolution Quantum Man of Mer Hydras locked in a trivial orbit Lonesome Hydrae Enveloped in Infinite And ignorant of the All But it is mortality restored to ignorance We chose before the Fall Lonesome Hydrae Enveloped in Finite Quantum Man in black Quantum Man of Mer |
|||
14:27 |
Sacriphyx / StarGazer
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
StarGazer | |
The Great Righteous Destroyer | Bass, Vocals |
The Serpent Inquisitor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Selenium | Drums |
Sacriphyx | |
Neilanderthal | Drums, Lyrics |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Aaron Cooper | Artwork |
Damon Good | Recording (Side B) |
Nick Seja | Recording |
S. Berserker | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Sacriphyx - A.J. Shout VC | 07:17 | Show lyrics |
A carpenter at reschs brewery and veteran of the Boer War A regular at Randwick rifle range and yet he urged for more So when England declared war on Germany, Australia did as well Alfred John Shout swapped chisel for rifle for in war he did excel Captain Shout was soon known as a cheery, well liked and brave man And on landing at ANZAC cove into and at the enemy he did ran He led an advance and captured territory known as Baby 700 Captured Turks were stunned as their belongings were quickly plundered At Gaba Tepe although wounded, carried more than a dozen injured mates Out of the firing line, to safety and out of reach of a doomed fate Injured again his arm shattered but he refused to go to the rear Third time wounded amidst his protests, from the line he was dragged clear Then came the fateful day, he was thirty three and one day old Clearing Sasse’s Sap at Line Pine his VC medal citation is told He charged through trenches with Captain Sasse who stabbed and shot Whilst Shout used jam tin bombs to lob at all the Turks he spot He lit three at the one time in preparation for the next assault These crude homemade devices contained bullet shells and bolts He threw one down the way and was about to lob another When one of the remaining two was faulty and blew asunder The explosion took his right hand, his left eye and part of his chin Those near were shocked this red haired digger still managed to grin Though hideously maimed and bleeding freely he directed the attack In time stretcher bearers came and took his weakened body down the track He remained positive that he would heal and soon return to the front But those around him knew Lone Pine would be his final stunt On ship on route to hospital, his heart failed, his soul set free This brave VC winner died a hero and was solemnly buried at sea |
|||
Side B | |||
2. | StarGazer - Tryaal by Obsidian | 07:10 | Show lyrics |
Tryaal by obsidian Black sire of polarities Twin pyramids, mirroring my anti-christ Twin pyramids, a beacon to my Christ Black sire of polarities Quantum Man of Mer Twin pyramids, mirroring my anti-christ Twin pyramids, a beacon to my Christ Frozen images, glaring gibbous from the hewn and cut womb Primality transmogrified Hypnotized The conscious streaming into celestite vortice A tap to the absolution Quantum Man of Mer Hydras locked in a trivial orbit Lonesome Hydrae Enveloped in Infinite And ignorant of the All But it is mortality restored to ignorance We chose before the Fall Lonesome Hydrae Enveloped in Finite Quantum Man in black Quantum Man of Mer |
|||
14:27 |
The Western Front
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Neilanderthal | Drums |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Neilanderthal | Mixing, Logo, Layout |
Anthony Till | Mixing |
Damon Good | Mixing |
Mark Appleton | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | The Western Front | 03:27 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Buried Behind the Lines | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Draped over the trench, a bloated and sickening corpse Staring down from above with its leering vacant eyes Its mouth slightly ajar, perhaps in a mocking smirk Its skin seems alive with a hundred flies For a while the war is forgotten As I ponder this ghastly sight Am I accustomed to this horror? Should it still cause me to fright? His uniform is German, my rifle sights have spotted many Not for want has my bolt hit home, my trigger squeezed asunder They are no personal enemy of mine, the German Private soldier I’ve shared a beer with one back home in simpler times Down Under So i feel I must write to the parents of this Soldier Give him a proper funeral, for his honour as well as mine Tell them I knew him not but felt sad for this grinning corpse And mark a map where he was buried within the Australian lines |
|||
3. | Fatal Fromelles | 06:04 | Show lyrics |
Not often will you hear the tale of damned Fromelles A battle tried forgotten where great sorrow dwells The worst twenty four hours in our history of Australia An unnecessary battle and a complete bloody failure Orchestrated by a British Corp. Commander This bloke is the subject of cruel yet just slander For he had learnt nothing from his past planned disasters So Australians fell thick and fast on dead foreign pastures A feint to draw the Germans away from the Somme Started with a seven hour barrage of bombs But the Germans from their high ground could see That a feint was all it was going to be It was the first major battle by Australians in France Welcome to the Western Front, they stood not a chance Cut down by a weapon underrated at Haig In shell holes and graves countless Australians were laid |
|||
4. | Without a Trace | 06:03 | Show lyrics |
My surroundings are bleak Stretcher bearers do I seek A wasteland of churned earth Bearing pain for all I’m worth For hours under French sun I’ve lain wounded from Hun gun In a damn shallow shell hole From which to rid is my goal No more water at my hip A dead foes water do I sip A healable wound but in this sun Is worse than injury by gun Of a sudden movement I see Believing I shall soon be free But coming closer now to see They are Germans numbering three They are kind, they dress my wound Tell me Australians are coming soon Fill my bottle, shade my face Then they leave without a trace |
|||
5. | The Crawling Horror | 04:36 | Show lyrics |
These beasts of steel seemed injured With their squealing unwholesome sounds Its awkward movements seems so painful Mastery over no-mans land though found Its visibility was useless Their hides surprisingly weak Its bulk screamed Industrial age Forever crawling, This iron cage Lurching, crawling, terrifying Overheating, understeering, stalling Cursing, sobbing, heartbreaking Thrown into battle untried Hoping to over run, cause mass panic and outflank But hopeless was the maiden outing of the Mark I Tank |
|||
6. | Damn Passchendaele Ridge | 02:31 | Show lyrics |
An endless bog A sea of mud A foul smelling mire Of blood and guts A wasteland of soggy brown No other colour to be found In this both men and mule drown Was this really once a town? The shells keep on coming Is this place not miserable enough? Can’t keep dry, can’t keep safe Oh boy are we doing it tough And the rain keeps on falling And the War will not stop We are told to fix bayonets Over sandbags we must hop But our artillery is useless Not enough guns made it to the front So in the bog we get torn to pieces Because our heavy artillery had sunk Damn this war Damn the weather Damn the generals to the rear Damn the bullets Damn the shrapnel Damn this Passchendaele Ridge |
|||
7. | Food for the Front | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
From the field kitchen he did troop With two canisters filled with soup His feet felt old and his aching limbs felt numb He had promised his mates with soup he’d come So alone he continued through trenches and raped earth Concentrating on not spilling soup for all he was worth But the way it was long and the burden was great Stray bombs landed near, was he now tempting fate Reasonably quiet on the front but he knew snipers well Though the land seemed dead still they would dwell Before the war he was a wanderer, a swagman if you will Humping his drum through valleys, plains and over hill His Billy on his swag had now popped into his head For similar was the containers that now weighed him down like lead A stray shell landed near and his mind returned to the job He quickened his awkward walk as his heart began to throb When a shell landed nearer and a container was rent asunder He stared in disbelief then his cursed raped the air like thunder He sat the last one down and took a little rest The freight it had knocked the wind from his chest He rubbed his eyes and it seemed rather strange to him That his usually faultless vision was now going dim He was now confused at where he was, why was he sitting down? Why was he dressed in khaki, what’s this red fluid on the ground? He had not felt the shrapnel that had torn a hole in his side In the mud of a ruined trench he closed his eyes and died |
|||
8. | Wells of Beersheba | 05:12 | Show lyrics |
Harry Chauvel was running out of time, he needed Beersheba now Infantry would take too long so the question now was how A charge he though, yes that would do, they would not expect that His mind was set so he called forward his men for a little chat In sight of the Turks, they lined up in three rows Hoping this untried tactic would deliver the fatal blow They were eager for the fight and eager for the charge The dust stirred up by the horses left most blokes parched Then the talk suddenly stopped and the dust began to settle Formation of troops now complete, the sound of feet on stirrup metal The Light Horse men looked at each other and glanced across the plain A look of steely determination as the stroked their horse’s manes Under thigh they could feel the tension of their horses That the beasts needed water their masters felt remorse Well they stroked their horses heads and whispered in their ears That the wells of Beersheba were tantalizingly near The signal came and Brigadier Grant did lead The Lighthorsemen towards valiant deed The trot turned to gallop in no time at all Gallop to charge when the shrapnel began to fall Their rifles slung over shoulder, their bayonets came to hand They cursed the Turkish Arabs as they sped across their land The Turkish artillery had started and a few fine soldiers fell But still they charged towards their goal, the famed Beersheba’s Wells The clouds of dust, distant roar and flashing bayonets in the setting sun Dread the cause for Turks to forget to change the sights on their guns Machine guns poured lead and rifle fire did the same But again the guns sights was the reason for lousy aim Of a sudden they were upon them, diving from horse to ground Whilst other rode ahead to harass others to be found They hacked down upon the heads of Turks with bayonet and fist And headed back to the front trenches for others they had missed Turks surrounded in droves whilst others fought in groups Harshly they were dealt with by the mounted infantry troops Within an hour the battle was won and their horses drunk their fill For the risk involved against great odds, small was the butchers bill |
|||
37:37 |
The Western Front
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Neilanderthal | Drums |
Anthony Till | Vocals, Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Neilanderthal | Mixing, Logo, Layout |
Anthony Till | Mixing |
Damon Good | Mixing |
Mark Appleton | Artwork |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | The Western Front | 03:27 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Buried Behind the Lines | 03:58 | Show lyrics |
Draped over the trench, a bloated and sickening corpse Staring down from above with its leering vacant eyes Its mouth slightly ajar, perhaps in a mocking smirk Its skin seems alive with a hundred flies For a while the war is forgotten As I ponder this ghastly sight Am I accustomed to this horror? Should it still cause me to fright? His uniform is German, my rifle sights have spotted many Not for want has my bolt hit home, my trigger squeezed asunder They are no personal enemy of mine, the German Private soldier I’ve shared a beer with one back home in simpler times Down Under So i feel I must write to the parents of this Soldier Give him a proper funeral, for his honour as well as mine Tell them I knew him not but felt sad for this grinning corpse And mark a map where he was buried within the Australian lines |
|||
3. | Fatal Fromelles | 06:04 | Show lyrics |
Not often will you hear the tale of damned Fromelles A battle tried forgotten where great sorrow dwells The worst twenty four hours in our history of Australia An unnecessary battle and a complete bloody failure Orchestrated by a British Corp. Commander This bloke is the subject of cruel yet just slander For he had learnt nothing from his past planned disasters So Australians fell thick and fast on dead foreign pastures A feint to draw the Germans away from the Somme Started with a seven hour barrage of bombs But the Germans from their high ground could see That a feint was all it was going to be It was the first major battle by Australians in France Welcome to the Western Front, they stood not a chance Cut down by a weapon underrated at Haig In shell holes and graves countless Australians were laid |
|||
4. | Without a Trace | 06:03 | Show lyrics |
My surroundings are bleak Stretcher bearers do I seek A wasteland of churned earth Bearing pain for all I’m worth For hours under French sun I’ve lain wounded from Hun gun In a damn shallow shell hole From which to rid is my goal No more water at my hip A dead foes water do I sip A healable wound but in this sun Is worse than injury by gun Of a sudden movement I see Believing I shall soon be free But coming closer now to see They are Germans numbering three They are kind, they dress my wound Tell me Australians are coming soon Fill my bottle, shade my face Then they leave without a trace |
|||
Side B | |||
5. | The Crawling Horror | 04:36 | Show lyrics |
These beasts of steel seemed injured With their squealing unwholesome sounds Its awkward movements seems so painful Mastery over no-mans land though found Its visibility was useless Their hides surprisingly weak Its bulk screamed Industrial age Forever crawling, This iron cage Lurching, crawling, terrifying Overheating, understeering, stalling Cursing, sobbing, heartbreaking Thrown into battle untried Hoping to over run, cause mass panic and outflank But hopeless was the maiden outing of the Mark I Tank |
|||
6. | Damn Passchendaele Ridge | 02:31 | Show lyrics |
An endless bog A sea of mud A foul smelling mire Of blood and guts A wasteland of soggy brown No other colour to be found In this both men and mule drown Was this really once a town? The shells keep on coming Is this place not miserable enough? Can’t keep dry, can’t keep safe Oh boy are we doing it tough And the rain keeps on falling And the War will not stop We are told to fix bayonets Over sandbags we must hop But our artillery is useless Not enough guns made it to the front So in the bog we get torn to pieces Because our heavy artillery had sunk Damn this war Damn the weather Damn the generals to the rear Damn the bullets Damn the shrapnel Damn this Passchendaele Ridge |
|||
7. | Food for the Front | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
From the field kitchen he did troop With two canisters filled with soup His feet felt old and his aching limbs felt numb He had promised his mates with soup he’d come So alone he continued through trenches and raped earth Concentrating on not spilling soup for all he was worth But the way it was long and the burden was great Stray bombs landed near, was he now tempting fate Reasonably quiet on the front but he knew snipers well Though the land seemed dead still they would dwell Before the war he was a wanderer, a swagman if you will Humping his drum through valleys, plains and over hill His Billy on his swag had now popped into his head For similar was the containers that now weighed him down like lead A stray shell landed near and his mind returned to the job He quickened his awkward walk as his heart began to throb When a shell landed nearer and a container was rent asunder He stared in disbelief then his cursed raped the air like thunder He sat the last one down and took a little rest The freight it had knocked the wind from his chest He rubbed his eyes and it seemed rather strange to him That his usually faultless vision was now going dim He was now confused at where he was, why was he sitting down? Why was he dressed in khaki, what’s this red fluid on the ground? He had not felt the shrapnel that had torn a hole in his side In the mud of a ruined trench he closed his eyes and died |
|||
8. | Wells of Beersheba | 05:12 | Show lyrics |
Harry Chauvel was running out of time, he needed Beersheba now Infantry would take too long so the question now was how A charge he though, yes that would do, they would not expect that His mind was set so he called forward his men for a little chat In sight of the Turks, they lined up in three rows Hoping this untried tactic would deliver the fatal blow They were eager for the fight and eager for the charge The dust stirred up by the horses left most blokes parched Then the talk suddenly stopped and the dust began to settle Formation of troops now complete, the sound of feet on stirrup metal The Light Horse men looked at each other and glanced across the plain A look of steely determination as the stroked their horse’s manes Under thigh they could feel the tension of their horses That the beasts needed water their masters felt remorse Well they stroked their horses heads and whispered in their ears That the wells of Beersheba were tantalizingly near The signal came and Brigadier Grant did lead The Lighthorsemen towards valiant deed The trot turned to gallop in no time at all Gallop to charge when the shrapnel began to fall Their rifles slung over shoulder, their bayonets came to hand They cursed the Turkish Arabs as they sped across their land The Turkish artillery had started and a few fine soldiers fell But still they charged towards their goal, the famed Beersheba’s Wells The clouds of dust, distant roar and flashing bayonets in the setting sun Dread the cause for Turks to forget to change the sights on their guns Machine guns poured lead and rifle fire did the same But again the guns sights was the reason for lousy aim Of a sudden they were upon them, diving from horse to ground Whilst other rode ahead to harass others to be found They hacked down upon the heads of Turks with bayonet and fist And headed back to the front trenches for others they had missed Turks surrounded in droves whilst others fought in groups Harshly they were dealt with by the mounted infantry troops Within an hour the battle was won and their horses drunk their fill For the risk involved against great odds, small was the butchers bill |
|||
37:37 |
Band ascii art
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