LOADING DATA
Carach Angren
Members | |
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Current | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals (2003-present) |
Member(bands): Inger Indolia, Vaultage | |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (2003-present) |
Member(bands): Clemens Wijers, Dark Mutation, Vaultage | |
Past | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion (2003-2020) |
Member(bands): Consonance, Anxiety, Vaultage, From Earth (live), Septicflesh (live) | |
Current (Live) | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (2013-present) |
Member(bands): Rome | |
Bastiaan Boh | Guitars (2015-present) |
Michiel van der Plicht | Drums (2020-present) |
Member(bands): Aran Angmar, Pestilence, Apophys, Detonation, God Dethroned, Prostitute Disfigurement, Toxocara, Bleeding Gods (live), Dictated (live), Mayan (live), Nargaroth (live), Katafalk, Travelers in Time, As It Burns (live), Dew-Scented (live) | |
Past (Live) | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass (2008-2010) |
Member(bands): Le Grand Guignol, Dregoth, Vindsval, Rome, Nebelhorn, Enid, Isenheim, The Skinflicks | |
Trystys | Guitars (2008-2010) |
Member(bands): Dictated, Erebus, Anxiety | |
Valak | Guitars (2010-2012) |
Member(bands): The Scalding, Anxiety, Inger Indolia, Seven Days Remain | |
Diogo Bastos | Guitars (2016) |
Member(bands): Scarred, Abstract Rapture, Satyricon (live) | |
Jack Owen | Guitars (2016-2017) |
Member(bands): Serpents Whisper, Six Feet Under, Skin the Lamb (live), Cannibal Corpse, Deicide, Estuary (live), Order of Ennead (live), Grave Descent, Beyond Death, Adrift, Attack, Devil’s Highway |
# | Discography | Type | Year | |
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1 | The Chase Vault Tragedy | Demo | 2004 | Show album |
2 | Ethereal Veiled Existence | EP | 2005 | Show album |
3 | Lammendam | Full-length | 2008 | Show album |
4 | Death Came Through a Phantom Ship | Full-length | 2010 | Show album |
5 | The Ghost of Raynham Hall | Single | 2011 | Show album |
6 | Where the Corpses Sink Forever | Full-length | 2012 | Show album |
7 | This Is No Fairytale | Full-length | 2015 | Show album |
8 | Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten | Full-length | 2017 | Show album |
9 | Monster | Single | 2020 | Show album |
10 | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | Single | 2020 | Show album |
11 | Operation Compass | Single | 2020 | Show album |
12 | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | Full-length | 2020 | Show album |
The Chase Vault Tragedy
Members | |
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Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Vocals (backing) |
Tracks | |||
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1. | In Death It Began... (Intro) | 01:08 | instrumental |
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2. | The Chase Vault Mystery | 03:46 | |
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3. | Paranormal Kinetic Activity | 04:09 | |
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4. | Sepulchral Disequilibrium | 03:32 | |
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12:35 |
Ethereal Veiled Existence
Members | |
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Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Bass, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Erik Wijnands | Photography (band) |
Ardek | Mixing, Mastering |
Seregor | Cover art |
Tracks | |||
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1. | There Was No Light | 01:22 | Show lyrics |
And when she finally reached heaven, there was no light. |
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2. | The Ghost of Raynham Hall | 04:54 | Show lyrics |
Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace. There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen, wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam. Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably the consequense of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a shade called the brown lady. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham Hall I shall guide us through its arcane past. It was a time of romance and wine, before the (Vis)Count Townshend, found out about his wife. High was the price. Her infidelity would be severely punished for life, Locked behind the walls at Raynham Hall’s apartments. There’s where she remaind, driven insane until death came. It was a shame, "Unfaithful salacious whore... you will never get away!" That’s why Dorithy died. After being held in this antiquated prison for life. Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death, was said. Though many have told she’d broke her heart... then her neck! Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a brown brocade dress. It was the ghost of the brown lady, still seeking for ethereal rest. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham Hall |
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3. | After Death Premises | 04:15 | Show lyrics |
Bewitching spheres I sense when the temperatures fall. Whilst dusk quickly devours all light inside the Townshend’s hall. Ghostly phenomena I have seen... roaming it’s huge corridors as if I dream abysmal dreams. 1835, the year that Colonel Loftus saw dark things at night. Walking towards his room... a spectral form appeared then vapourized in gloom. Tenebrous winds... waving curtains. Unreal noises, footsteps and strange voices. Neither Christ nor sunlight marked this place with holy grace during these Christmas days. I feel... dark things staring at me. This classic realm is just another version of hell. Her dead skin glowed with a pale luminescence. A forgotten entity that dwells in a brown satin dress. Chained in a void of tragedy. Bound to seek her children in everlasting eternity. Colonel Loftus met her twice. The second time... she stared at him and had no eyes. Her feature looked horrific and cruel, watching the colonel like a terrifying pagan ghoul. |
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4. | Ethereal Veiled Existence | 05:25 | Show lyrics |
A few years later, an author of sea-novels entered Raynham’s dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently arrived. There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the face of something dark still wandering this place. Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are the result of thieves and local smugglers. On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two friends and candlelight. All at once they froze...! Suddenly they confronted the cursed lady. She came forth like freezing winds from north. No ghastly dream... The Brown Countess existed for real. The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...! The bullet passed straight through the fearsome shade. Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not meant to fall. No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died. This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light. Carrying a lantern. Gliding past the walls where her soul became enthralled. Fear replaced... skepticism. At last the shade turned and grinned in a diabolical way. Right before... she vanished. |
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5. | Yonder Realm Photography | 05:50 | Show lyrics |
Two photographers were on assignment for a known magazine. They approached the accursed hall. Unware of the ghost that... still dwells within. They were assigned to profile Raynham’s structure. Focusing on adequate exposures. There hung a mystic sphere. Emotions of unexplainable fear made them clear they’d rather disappear. For this old house gave them weird conjectures. As if something dark come near. Misty form roams through the night. Torturous soul astrayed from light. Portraits of dead entities. Yonder realm photography. Gazing with fear up the staircase. A ghostly shape arose before their eyes. Quick!... There is something strange. Click!... Was the sound that the flashlight pistol and the camera made. They developed a picture that showed a morbid image... apparently of the brown lady. Raynham hall Raynham hall |
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21:46 |
Lammendam
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
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April 18th, 2008 | Maddening Media | MAD004A | CD | Enhanced, Limited edition, Slipcase |
July 19th, 2013 | Season of Mist | SOM302 | CD | Reissue |
July 19th, 2013 | Season of Mist | SOM302LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, 4 colors, Reissue |
June 5th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM302LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, 2 colors, Reissue, Repress |
Members | |
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Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (rhythm) (additional) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 2, 8) |
Yves Blaschette | Cello (track 8) |
Hye-Jung | Vocals (female) (track 5) |
Philip Breuer | Vocals (track 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Erik Wijnands | Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Het spook van de Leiffartshof | 01:28 | instrumental |
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2. | A Strange Presence Near the Woods | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
White is the mark of this sighting amd black is its soul, dark is the soil where it haunts upon Jesus Christ, you were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods. Shadows over Lammendam, shadows over Lammendam. It’s the point of death’s return for a grand castle there once burned. Something is following me yet there’s no one I see as I walk the old pathways near the woods. A murderous identity is staring from the trees, now I realize that I have trodden spectral sanctities. Wandering through forests and dreary fields, I think I’m lost. Yes I’m lost! Cannot describe this horrendous fear, I think I’m cursed. Tricked and cursed! Suddenly I stumble onto a forgotten sanctuary, a tomb of a castle scorched by time. Bound to the entity that is determined to take my life. Here comes the night! Nocturnal threnodies and funerary thoughts of my death-bell clanging through my mind. Overwhelmed by approaching dark sounds, listen to the devilish anthems of a shrieking ghost when the moon is perfectly round. All that’s left is a shallow empty moat, there were my rigid body floats through a cold void what Dutch men call "dood". Dood... No one in the village knew, why disappear? Wish they knew my corpse was here! Shadows over Lammendam no return, no return from Lammendam! |
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3. | Haunting Echoes from the Seventeenth Century | 05:05 | Show lyrics |
Hear this legend, a saga of despair from an old southern town called Sjilvend. The elder peasants warned us, we should fear a hidden unmarked tomb in those marshy woods not far from here. This is the saga of the white ghost haunting Lammendam, there a sick reflection keeps resurrecting only when the sun is gone. Once there stood a castle in a wood, it seemed a rather old wealthy looking farmstead. There lived a girl with the beauty of a pearl, especially when she wore a white dress and wandered through fields of hard-working churls. Everyone knew there were two young fellows who gave up everything for the love of their dreams. They did not care poor or rich, she stole their hearts like a goddamn witch! This region once was called De Leiffartshof! One was the German son of Högenbusch, the other one came from a domain called Heeringhof, and they both weren’t aware of their mistress in white who could not decide. Echoes from the 17th century... During day he came with his horse and carriage then whistled. Then she knew he was there a secret affair! Therefore you’ll be crowned as a whore. Lammendam! The sun is drowning in the landscapes of the earth, the time to seduce her second admirer. There lies a note by the old knotted oak, carrying a stone and romantic poetry telling her when where to go. One day he’s riding his black horse through southern paradise, by coincidence he caught his doll cheating with another lad. Slut, why? And they hated passionately ever after. |
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4. | Phobic Shadows and Moonlit Meadows | 06:54 | Show lyrics |
Hatred’s occultation causing harm upon their relation. No amour tomorrow when love shall be consumed by sorrow. Sorrow! In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace. Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate. One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams. Her castle burned like sceneries in Hell, she suffered like a pig. Oh God, I love this tale to tell! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Repulsive temptress in white prepare to die, and kiss thy pale warm skin goodbye. Hör mir zu, dein Fleisch ist in meiner Welt verboten. Du sollst tanzen im Schattenreich, dem Land der Toten. In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Finsternis, in Dunkelheit! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Unfaithful mistress in white where is your pride? Accept your faith in twilight! In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Grausamkeit und Finsternis. Im Schattenreich! |
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5. | Hexed Melting Flesh | 02:06 | Show lyrics |
That night was weird, restless and bright. For the moon kept shining this awkward sick light. The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child. No hundreds weeping as if they realise it’s time to die. Raindrops keep falling and falling like tears. Like the infant’s sorrow, as if it’s raining from their fears Then what happened no one could tell but mark my wordsit’s a pretty sick trick from Hell. Goodnight, sleep tight, my mistress in white. Sweet dreams of death and moonlight. |
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6. | The Carriage Wheel Murder | 03:40 | Show lyrics |
Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken. The way those empty eyes stared as if they saw the doors of Hell going open. Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned, princess of the moon roaming timeless gloom. Murder, murder! Once sick of hatred now frightened of these unsolved deaths, his cheating mistress and her lover passed away like rats. Now Ian’s hourglass is leaking time like a bleeding that cannot be stopped, for a lugubrious existence is craving for his teardrops and blood. Kijk mij aan zodat de duisternis in jouw ziel kan schijnen. Jouw bestaan zal als een tijdloze vloek in de dood verdwijnen. That day he’s riding through the forest as his intuition speaks: "You are being followed!", then the spirit attacked from the trees. It pushed his face into the spinning carriage wheels, his skull cracked open and there were no more screams! |
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7. | Corpse in a Nebulous Creek | 05:24 | Show lyrics |
One year later, still traumatized by her ghastly screams, he tastes and smells her burning flesh in his most sickening hypnotic dreams. These illusions seemed so damn real, what a nightmarish ordeal! My lady’s corpse was never found within the remains. Even her skeleton dissolved, there was no proper burial day. What a shame that heavenly beauty could not stay, and something devilish stayed to play. Corpse, corpse... His name was Manfred, his father was a German count. Depression hid companion until his pounded cold corpse shall be found. Depression, now he is suffering a severe form of psychosis. Corpse in a nebulous creek! I saw something white dwell through the woods like a macabre dead bride. Trembling with fear, still cannot believe that like a false dog it kept staring at me. Corpse, corpse... Seriously considering suicide Shall I drink the poison, cut my wrists or hang myself high tonight? He made a choice and took a ride along the farthest trees and then, when they jumped a misty creek, he fell and broke his neck. Was he insane? No, she came back and pushed him, so sad. Broke his neck, horse shot dead. Broke his neck, now he’s dead. Now he’s dead! |
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8. | Invisible Physic Entity | 01:21 | instrumental |
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9. | Heretic Poltergeist Phenomena | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance. Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger caught between life and death. A threatening presence of an invisible personality. It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world. Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom, repeating tragedy summoned by the moon. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena. Listen to the laments of the sick moaning dead. They speak a simple fearsome language, knocking and moving objects and scratching against the walls. For some reason they refuse to pass over to the light. It could be love, hate and vengeance that keeps them wandering circles at night. Heretic Poltergeist phenomena! Heretic poltergeist phenomena! Ghost, a lost semi-transparent existence. Soul, a misty human form of negative anger confusing life with death. Cursed and desolated in an earthly stream of tears, it keeps arising like a wolf when a full moon appears. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena! |
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10. | La Malédiction de la Dame Blanche | 07:07 | Show lyrics |
Tâchez d’être rentrés avant le clair de lune, parce qu’alors la forêt devient vivante! They plough on the lands near a damned baleful source of evil. Drifting foreign knaves, broken slaves of war trying to avoid the wrath of the french revolution. Eyes of fear and confusion, they seem terrified of the white cloaked haze that lies dormant in daylight yet haunts moonlit crops at night. The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". Some of them worked late on their fields and mysteriously disappeared as if they just ran straight into the black marsh to escape from the atrocities of the white ghost. Certainly convinced she came forth since that hellish fire. Like a straw she burned, none concerned until her phantasm had returned from a bleak spectral world. Frequently she’s seen in the gleam of a dismal chimerical moon floating through clouds of gloom. La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! This town is haunted, this town is goddamn cursed. These trees have eyes staring through your soul during moonrise. Oh, you don’t believe the truth? Turn around, perhaps she’s standing right behind you. Right now! The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". These words were transformed by the church which identified the curse as "De Lammendam". And don’t expect a happy ending when I say goodbye. You may kiss the bride before you will brutally die. |
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41:26 |
Death Came Through a Phantom Ship
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
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February 26th, 2010 | Maddening Media | mad005a / mad005a-cd | CD | Digipak |
July 19th, 2013 | Season of Mist | SOM304 | CD | Reissue |
July 19th, 2013 | Season of Mist | SOM304LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, 4 colors, Reissue |
June 5th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM304LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, Coloured, Reissue, Repress |
Members | |
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Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 6), Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Songwriting |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion, Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-5, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (additional), Vocals (choirs) (track 6) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Photography, Design, Texture, Lyrics |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Electronic Voice Phenomena | 00:59 | Show lyrics |
"This is tugboat Grey Star,do you read me? Position 5412 north, 0524 east. This is tugboat Grey Star, please come in! I repeat: This is tugboat Grey Star, does anyone read me?" "Jij zult verzuipen in je eigen bloed!" |
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2. | The Sighting Is a Portent of Doom | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil. Cruising at thirteen knots on a pitch black sea, there’s a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see just an open dreary sea. Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship. No response ’till I receive transmissions of hostile nature. These voices cursing my goddamn name. Hell, is this witchcraft or am I insane? All of a sudden a dark silhouette ascends through ghostlike mist, while it comes closer I recognize the image of an old deserted ship. I am aghast at the sight of a derelict vessel sailing this awkward night, appearing like a black floating cadaver. There’s not one single man aboard, her torn sails cloaking her like a cobwebbed widow posing against this sad nightmarish horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped, gy great-grandfathers clock just ticking now stopped I am smothered by a sudden shroud of fear. For there’s a ghost ship upon a funereal quest with a black bird circling hypnotic around its rocking empty crow’s nest. Fortunately this atrocious mystery sets sail away from me! Some sailors claim other seamen beheld such sights, most died weird deaths during fog-clad days and nights. The ship vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Should I feel fear, was it even here? |
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3. | ...and the Consequence Macabre | 06:45 | Show lyrics |
He came home with trembling bone and spoke: "Evil roams the sea!" I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery. They must think I am weird, my wife and daughter upset by what they hear. As we go to bed I kiss my loves goodnight then close my eyes to forget. Soon, a lucid dream, the room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene. Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind, the first thing I realize is taking a severe beating from someone in the middle of the night. Between the shocking fragments of cold fists ponding on my face I can see a man wearing a black hat causing harm upon me. While he’s laughing and punching simultaneously I manage to grab his throat with both hands and push him over to the left side where my wife sleeps at night. Grabbing the knife on the pedestal cupboard, not thinking twice, and I stab into his face until both eyes liquidize and facial bones collapse. Haphazardly in anxiety I maim his face extremely and still he’s laughing loudly. His clothes look rather old, a stench like dead things and a ragged captain’s coat. This dream is so ghastly and surreal. So many stabwounds, sixty, maybe more, his face simply shattered while blood decorates the floor. Then there is this sound like a snarling hound, I leave the room to look around. It guides me to my daughter’s room but her door is locked. I am terrified of what I might find behind. So quickly I climb the stairs to the old attic and find my double-barrelled shotgun. Ammunition, the weapon’s loaded, I need this nightmare to be done. Done! I break down the door forcefully, a vicious false dog is what I see, and still he’s laughing loudly. It’s not my child for this beast seems foul and wild. Two close ranged shots, still alive, brutally finished with the knife. Now guess who’s gargling closely behind me. I turn around and again I am just an inch away from that face I carved up previously, still laughing suddenly. Thank God, I am awake! Laying in my bed, covered in sweat, the horror I have seen was just an awful dream. Clouded is my sight, finding bloodstains on my hands as I rub my eyes. No, what have I done? My wife besides me, still alive but her face is simply gone. Beauty has been maimed by my hand, disfigured, our kiss will never be the same. Now where the fuck is my little girl? And a dead hound is not what I found, bloodstains on the wall, there’s my daughter’s corpse slaughtered on the ground! One last kiss upon my wife’s trembling hand before I shoot her through the head to set her free from this misery. Imagine the shotgun standing upside down with the barrel in my mouth. The sighting was a portent of doom and the consequence definitely macabre. And before my last tear hits the soil I... |
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4. | Van der Decken’s Triumph | 05:17 | Show lyrics |
"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company. We run a monopoly: spice trade, violence and slavery. "Full speed ahead!" he’s hollering as if he is mad. This ship is captained by a successful psychopath. Fearless, no conscience, the infamous Captain Van der Decken. So obsessed to be the best, nothing less, a crude master yet staunch refusing to back away from any kind of tumult. For mace, nutmeg, clove and cinnamon, for silk, porcelain, ivory and opium. Victoriously sails the V.O.C.! Through the foulest gales, along dangerous reefs and treacherous bays. Respect and obedience, under his command they felt challenged but safe. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. "Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." "Bring me the rum to celebrate the fortunes to come. Let us sing and drink on a rich and glorious time for we shall succeed just like this harmonious rhyme." |
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5. | Bloodstains on the Captain’s Log | 05:52 | Show lyrics |
Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now you hide your fears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to molest you. Catharina if you try to leave there will be grief. A wonderful house built for my wife to dwell, still nagging like one of my annoying men. Catharina! He defies the trust in marriage and God for there are bloodstains on the captain’s log. I stand for greed, lust and the willpower to defeat. The mask I wear is kind, with a distorted face underneath. I believe in bliss through violence andsuppression. Take, rob and rape, don’t let these filthy foreigners escape. On our pillage through the Indian seas, we sail heartless under the flag of piracy. Ravish and ruin their lives, execute theirchildren right before their eyes. My treasure chambers teeming with the riches I adore. I call it passion not a sin to kill for more and more. Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now hold your tears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to violate you. "Once he sailed the course of trade and righteousness. A stern yet stout, master of the sea. Now his soul drowns in condescension. His mind corrupted and martyred by greed. Bloodstains on the captain’s log!" |
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6. | Al betekent het mijn dood | 01:08 | Show lyrics |
This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves, a demonic tempest, my men complaining, I command: We set sail! "I beg you my captain! Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!" "What, your God? May he suffocate, may he rot!" Kept the bible close to me, his book of lies I shall now cast into the sea. "This is blasphemy!" "You hold your tongue or I’ll rip it out and have you hanged for mutiny!" "No, you cannot send us into madness, we shall not obey." With my knife I slowly penetrate his tender throat I curse in rage: "Godverdomme! Wij zullen vaeren! Al betekent het mijn dood!" |
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7. | Departure Towards a Nautical Curse | 05:39 | Show lyrics |
The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat and threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard. In defiance of the storm that kept them anchored for so long he swore an oath to forfeit right and wrong. Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape even if I have to sail until doomsday!" Their petrified facial expressions could tell their master was like a Devil on this floating piece of Hell. There, and then he gave the signal of departure. "Make sail and weigh the hook!", and so they left the harbor. Hear the Easter bells tolling through the roaring sound of a rough sea, accompanied by the sight of a ship sailing towards her destiny. What a spectacle of blasphemy, there was no rejoice after his mad choice! Sails were lost, decks were flooded and lightning turned their ship into a coal-black carcass. Anxiety replaced vainglory! The storm died down but a sinister shroud of darkness remained, for the daylight came no more. Floating in unending dusk, adrift on liquid ground. Months went by and land was never found. Food supplies putrefied and pestilence broke out! Suicide became routine, some chose suspension, others jumped and drowned. The dead were sown in hammocks and disposed of in the sea, buried in a watery grave after a short ceremony. The crew froze as he left his cabin with knife and gun, slaughtering what was left of them one by one. There was an evil murderous glimpse in his eyes and by the time he was done the ship was desecrated by death and demise. Van der Decken lashes himself to the wheel, swearing at Christ: "I shall not yield!" All at once a new storm rose and lightning struck. The top mast broke off, impaling him, a shard of the crest piercing his chest, in a standing position nailed to the deck. And so a man dies and a ghost resurrects! |
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8. | The Course of a Spectral Ship | 05:09 | Show lyrics |
Lots of tears, months became years, their mothers wept for many nights wondering if their sons died. Just when the grief became permissive and brief, tales of a ghost ship were spread, the same vessel where their brood found death. A craft made of mist, coursing in a timeless direction. This cadaverous sighting causing mayhem through reflection. These dark words are whispered in the local hangout of our port. Sailors and captains sketching a ship’s hull with a black shape aboard. Robust dauntless sea-dogs speak with a frightened tone in their voice: "Blue was the sky and the sun smiled at the crew then a storm came forth, moving swiftly from the north. Claps of thunder rumble, cold winds whining loud. A ghostly solstice weeping thick tears from its dreary clouds. As if these raindrops awoke something from its sleep, ticking on a liquid grave to evoke a devilish ship from the sea. The rise of a haunting in the form of a demon vessel. Now this black ship veered its bow! Changing her course, sailing straight into our direction. Anxious seamen screaming out loud: Search for protection! Right before it collides a dark figure was seen, standing on the prow with a black hound by his side. Surrounded by corpses, a sardonic smile and a sinister glance in his eyes. No movement, not one single tremor was felt on board. This spectral ship sailed straight through our vessel and our soul. The only thing we sensed was a bleak gust, a chill breeze, so cold." |
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9. | The Shining Was a Portent of Gloom | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle, sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle. The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter, clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" A ship made of mist like quicksilver thread, this skeleton vessel sings songs for the dead. To take a deep breath and set his mind back in motion, he stumbles upright and fumbles to the prow. His eyes now closed to hear his dear ocean, he feels the world has altered somehow. Deafening silence, the ocean seems gone, hardly a whisper nor notes of wind song. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" In a final attempt to end this bitter roam, he looks at the stars with their comforting glare. But the lights above that once guided him home, scattered and shattered, are no longer there. Now dawning upon him like rays of the sun, his state and his fate cannot be undone. The captain now trapped on this skeleton vessel, adrift on the void in a black floating castle. Chained to a twilight and bound to his boat, swearing his vengeance on others afloat. Lights at the end that have the world in their grip. He shall have his conquest as death came through a phantom ship! |
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43:47 |
The Ghost of Raynham Hall
Tracks | |||
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1. | The Ghost of Raynham Hall 2011 | 04:56 | Show lyrics |
Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace. There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen, wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam. Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably the consequence of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a shade called the brown lady. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham Hall I shall guide us through it’s arcane past. It was a time of romance and wine, before the (vis) count Townshend, found out about his wife. High was the price. Her infidelity would be severely punished for life, Locked behind the walls at Raynham Hall’s apartments. There’s where she remained, driven insane until death came. It was a shame, "Unfaithful salacious whore... you will never get away!" That’s why Dorithy died. After being held in this antiquated prison for life. Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death..., was said. Though many have told she’d broke her heart... then her neck! Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a brown brocade dress. It was the ghost of the brown lady, still seeking for ethereal rest. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham Hall |
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04:56 |
Where the Corpses Sink Forever
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
May 18th, 2012 | Season of Mist | SOM261 | CD | Limited edition, Digipak |
May 18th, 2012 | Season of Mist | SOM261 | CD | |
May 18th, 2012 | Season of Mist | SOM261LP | 12" vinyl | Limited edition, 2 colors, Reissue |
June 5th, 2012 | Season of Mist | Digital | Bandcamp | |
April 26th, 2019 | Season of Mist | SOM261LP | 12" vinyl | Limited edition, 2 colors, Reissue, Repress |
Members | |
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Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics (tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 7-8), Lyrics (tracks 1, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars |
Philip Breuer | French spoken part (track 7) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 4, 9), Vocals (backing) (track 8) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Robin Schmidt | Mastering |
Patrick Damiani | Mixing, Producer, Recording |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design, Lyrics (tracks 1,9), Photography |
Tracks | |||
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1. | An Ominous Recording | 01:58 | Show lyrics |
"Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain. I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn’t reach them, instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..." |
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2. | Lingering in an Imprint Haunting | 05:04 | Show lyrics |
Kill! Here I walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. I can’t remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud where skies weep leaden tears and blood. It’s hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphurius mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed as if the Devil is in charge, giving orders from the dephts of the abyss. Goddamn, it’s coming hard, fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive, maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops, I turn, see no enemy, there’s nothing behind me. I can’t believe my eyes, I can’t believe what I see. A timeless frozen scenery where nature stands still except for me! So strange to see a still image of this infernal reality, staring at shrapnel and bullets with an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, I’m startled by a horrible screaming from behind. Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon walked into an ambush, he screamed: "Please kill me, Chralie’s coming soon!" My 1911 is too loud, that’s why I reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation, I cannot take his life! Goddamned fucking gooks, he’s captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified, in this Hell I’ll wait for you!" And right before I step on that mine I ask myself: "Did he just spoke the truth?" Briefly I comprehend, all this time I was damned. His grudge keeps me in Hell for eternity, every time I die he waits for me. This is my destiny! |
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3. | Bitte tötet mich | 05:03 | Show lyrics |
Another tale of tragedy he made the choice to end his life. So it is written passionately, this soldier’s fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war, one carrying so much death will soon care for life no more. On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry. "I can hear footsteps, someone’s coming near. Fuck, should I stay, disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund, dieser Soldat ist immer für mich da. Quickly I put my Luger away, I thought this was my last day but I failed!" "Bitte tötet mich, bitte töte mich!" On the second day he opened his eyes, consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day I die!" "I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife" So depressed, so empty, wandering hopeless, searching for death. Searching for death! His soul feels so old and so cold. The only desire left is his yearning for death. Yearning for death! He stumbled across an old farmstead and entered this wooden shack, there he found a rope and the guts to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot! The barn door flew open, this time he was caught by a farmer who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard, let me hang and die!" In this struggle the soldier went madafter the rope snapped. He pulled a knife and, nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed. "Bitte töte mich!" On the third day there was a fire fight, this bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves suicide. With open arms into the line of fire he asked for death. But then he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again, die for his own determined suicide. Here comes the part where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, kept alive in his Hell for two long years before he finally dies. |
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4. | The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist | 08:04 | Show lyrics |
Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by nature’s most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections from World War II. Arise 1941, ’42, the identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There’s one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin. His brilliant music so beautiful and pure, shining warmth upon every soldier, t helps them to endure. Breathtaking melodies consuming all hate, sorrows and fears. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears. But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near, rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead, music made of lead. "I’ve had enough of this sickening war and it’s murdering puppets! They don’t understand the language of music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life, maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" The enemy lies on the other side of the fields, he decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro for his own death. For his own death! And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end both sides simultaneously open fire. There’s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist, can’t you hear his call of death? Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. The funerary dirge of a violinist... |
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5. | Sir John | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
"Scalpel, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" Spleen uncovered brutally removed, so wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives, eating intestines to keep ourselves alive." "Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!" Half the village died, animals fled, plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death! "I won’t regret, doctor! Use your craft, now amputate my hand so I can eat!" Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive, lost all their dignity. "Forceps, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized his raid of death had come to an end. No living soul left for this hunger driven theft, killed them all! "But I must eat, just a little piece of me! Come to daddy, he must eat!" Twenty days almost starved to death in this forsaken place, found by soldiers who brought him back. He was safe! Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he arose. "Severe war traumas" he was told. "Mouth guard, strap, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts." He ate his own tongue, thick blood flows. "We are losing him!", heart fails. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within, this blood hunger grown to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized his raid of death had come to an end. |
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6. | Spectral Infantry Battalions | 02:04 | Show lyrics |
Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field once colored red from bloodshed. Where the sounds of war still can be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed. Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they’d once destroyed. Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination. This is the sound of death! Death, a military haunting! Death, battle formations, Death, still marching ahead! Death, battle formations Death... |
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7. | General Nightmare | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
Staring, screaming: "Bring my map!" with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l’Allemagne!". "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! "I have conquered!" "Murdered!" "I am your leader!" "No, you slaughtered us all!" "Déserteurs!" "We’ll infest your nightmares with our pain!" General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! Woken from delirium by the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean of blood and tears still fresh. "Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m’en fous de la populace!" Attack! Trembling, raging: "Bring my map" with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign, General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, pour l’éternité! |
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8. | Little Hector, What Have You Done? | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Hector was nine, in school, making colorful drawings most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad draw pictures so sad? Hector was asked to explain, he replied: "It’s me and daddy in the attic, hanging when we are dead." Cold and dead... Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away! When he came home he found his daddy’s revolver. Now it’s time to play. While father slept his son blew his brains all over the bed then he went upstairs to the attic, there the kid shot himself through the head. Cold and dead... Mother came home and saw her husband, mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze, after the funerals she took an overdose. It is the house, it is the house. Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned, bewitched, touched by the Devil’s hand. Haunted, the house is bitter and sad and bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad! Once upon a time during the war the Nazis came and breached down this door. "Aufstehen, hinsehen", the men had to stand and see how their women got raped so brutally, so hard. Cold and dead... Father resisted and for that he was taken upstairs after his boy, with his hands tied to his back and another rope around his neck. They made him stand upon the shoulders of his own dear son, unfortunately the child could not hold his daddy that long. For several days he sat amongst his ravished and executed family, eventually he knotted a rope out of his own bed-sheets and hung himself next to daddy. |
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9. | These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes) | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
There he lies, haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions. "Where am I, did I just die?" No one in sight, scanning his surroundings for where they might lie. The prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky. He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can’t comprehend what he has seen. The wet earth trembles and war winds howl like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see, I cannot take this!" These fields are lurking as black hail falls like ashen blades, these fields are closing in to bury him with frozen spades. On bitter taste of blood he gags, dragging on with broken legs to break loose from the horrid stench of burning lives and burning flags. With elbows through the mud he drags himself forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must, I will!" The wind lies down and the earth stands still, black hail fire stings no more. "Dear Lord above, did I escape that hellish place of gore?" He ends up where it all began! Seven pair of demon eyes, seven fearsome demon smiles. Trapped in a paranormal chain bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain. So ends this tale of fates aligned! A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots that won’t unwind, this ominous recording is all that’s left behind: "Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain..." |
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43:09 |
This Is No Fairytale
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
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February 23rd, 2015 | Season of Mist | Digital | Bandcamp | |
February 23rd, 2015 | Season of Mist | SOM347D | CD | Limited edition, Digibox |
February 23rd, 2015 | Season of Mist | SOM347LP | 12" vinyl | Limited edition, 5 colors |
February 23rd, 2015 | Season of Mist | SOM347 | CD | |
December 1st, 2017 | Season of Mist | SOM347LP | 12" vinyl | Limited edition, Coloured, Repress |
April 24th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM347LP | 12" vinyl | Limited edition, Coloured, Repress |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
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3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
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4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
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5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
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6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
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7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
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8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
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9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
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44:13 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
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June 16th, 2017 | Season of Mist | SOM414 | CD | |
June 16th, 2017 | Chaos Reigns | GQCS-90347 | CD | Japan |
June 16th, 2017 | Season of Mist | SOM414LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, 6 colors |
June 16th, 2017 | Season of Mist | SOM414T | Cassette | |
July 14th, 2017 | Season of Mist | SOM414B | CD | Boxset, Deluxe edition, Limited edition |
April 3rd, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM414LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, Coloured, Repress |
Members | |
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Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
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2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
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3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
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4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
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5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
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6. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
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7. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
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8. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
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9. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
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41:17 |
Monster
Tracks | |||
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1. | Monster | 03:33 | |
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03:33 |
Der Vampir von Nürnberg
Tracks | |||
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1. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | |
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06:00 |
Operation Compass
Tracks | |||
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1. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | |
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06:00 |
Franckensteina Strataemontanus
Album versions
Release date | Label | Catalog ID | Format | Description |
---|---|---|---|---|
June 26th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM561D | CD | Deluxe edition, Limited edition, Digipak |
June 26th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM561B | CD | Limited edition, Clam box, Deluxe edition |
June 26th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM561LP | 2 12" vinyls | Limited edition, 5 colors |
June 26th, 2020 | Season of Mist | SOM561T | Cassette | Limited edition |
June 26th, 2020 | Season of Mist | Digital | Bandcamp |
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing), Guitars, Bass |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 5, 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Robert Carranza | Mastering, Mixing |
Stefan Heilemann | Cover art |
Patrick Damiani | Recording (drums, guitars, bass) |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Here in German Woodland | 01:35 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a golden day Of flutter and laughter And warm sunshine rays frolicking in forests In the afternoon glow His hands playfully sifting through sand Here in German woodland Soon, innocence grew terribly ill His gaze showing traces of parasitic ill will The start of a tale that is about to unfold Singing of woe, of rot and of mould |
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2. | Scourged Ghoul Undead | 05:38 | Show lyrics |
Little white coffin lowered into the ground Parents screaming, desperate - profound The clock struck twelve and the family went home Little did they know what horrors were about to come Days of sorrow passed by Tears outweighing stone Feeling all alone Their beloved son, now cold - bound underground There is no day without grief; Death! You remorseless thief! Bring back our son! Countless thoughts and prayers only met by more nightmares! All defied in denial of Death... He comes back in their dreams at night To wake them, reminding that he died Black cats scratching at the white memorial plaque Their howling increasingly echoes forth and back Coffin-flies dig in and worms voraciously devour A crack of lightning striking into the chapel’s tower Thumping, throbbing, pounding, sounding from inside That which should be dead slipped away this very night In disarray and ruin his little grave was found As if he crept out of a blanket made of burial ground It was an unreal sight How the boy walked back home that night Risen from a sepulchral abyss Dragging forth in rigor mortis Mother kneeled in disbelief For she could not conceive The return of her son Her grief undone Her nightmare had just begun... Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! It was a sickening scene Mother uttered one more scream She was thirstily bitten in the neck Her blood absorbed in rotten crud Tears bathed her eyes in utter grief Her heart collapsed in disbelief From the womb to the tomb and back again Once a son of light now a creature in the night Grunting, moaning, groaning and gnawing off her face Eaten alive in her dear son’s embrace Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes The return of the dead |
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3. | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | 03:03 | Show lyrics |
Galvanism and alchemy, science to some, witchery to others Wine will come from water and gold from stone Concocting potions from animal flesh and bone The perfume of death is my sweetest cologne Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus “I made him with these hands” “He’s just resting, waiting… for a new life to come” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” Death-magic and forbidden sorcery Into the occult and science became necromancy A pact with Mephistopheles My stirring in the dark Echoed throughout the abyss “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!“ Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus |
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4. | The Necromancer | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Clothed in drapes worn by those from the grave The head of the corpse pointing towards the rising sun The scent of mandrake, hemlock and opium Reciting incantations, the ceremony has begun Anatomy, exploring the flesh of the human body Alchemy, the quest for transmutation and immortality I can hear the howling of wolves, the hissing of snakes As I call upon forbidden gods, shadows twist in demonic shapes I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head The monster was built just like the devil said Scientist, physician, sorcerer, magician Raising the dead was always my ambition Built from the body parts of the victims I killed A soul given by Satan, more blood shall be spilled I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, a torso, two legs and a head. The monster was built just like the devil said Alle meine Experimente sind misslungen seit der Entdeckung der schwarze Kunst Inject the bone oil. Pull the lever. Live! Live! It twitched!... It’s alive! Prometheus arise! My son, breathe open your black eyes. It’s alive Prometheus arise! My son, breathe and open your black eyes. It’s alive I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head My monster is alive, risen from the dead |
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5. | Sewn for Solitude | 03:52 | Show lyrics |
The pale moon lit a ragged passage ahead Through crepuscular forests a creature fled The scattered caws of pitch black crows Their eyes reflecting jagged lightning as loud thunder roars I creep through shadows of skeletal trees With a heavy heart I defy all elements Alas! This rueful being has fallen astray I’m torn by vengeance but I want to turn away Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have you done? What havoc did you bring upon? Master! See the creature I’ve become Monster to many, friend to none I have been hiding here since that tragic day Seen as a miserable wraith, they chased me away A being so cursed, yet torn and immersed; in flesh not my own - all alone! From rotten parts accrued Sewn for solitude Abandoned - rejected Spat out - abused - neglected I will have revenge! For you have created me! The spark of my inception is the flame of your destruction You will crawl to your downfall Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have I done? What havoc did I bring upon? Master! See the creature I have become Monster to many, friend to none Master! |
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6. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
Operation Compass was well underway Scorching sun Coarse sand A horned desert viper slithers through dust Howling winds Burning eyes World War II under British Command In Egyptian no-man’s land A silence of the snakes Before the battle erupts Oil Oil Oil Oil Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet! Push forth the Mark VI Light! Attack! Bleak tanks rumble, bleached bones crumble Fresh cannon fodder, brutally slaughtered Filthy caked crusts of flesh and blood garnish the banks The onslaught prevails The desert of death As the last man standing falls to his knees Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance, like shadows cast a spell And black oil erupting like a fountain from hell Like a Fata Morgana, a face appears in the geyser of oil Red demonic eyes looking down on him Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand Blue lunar wasteland The fallen soldiers rise to their feet Ghastly winds Death’s stare No man’s war The undead soar Uttering monstrous roars A pack of Death closing He screams and tries to dig himself in Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin He won the battle, but not the war |
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7. | Monster | 03:33 | Show lyrics |
It’s not enough to be monstered by you look Disfigured, maimed, malformed, or crooked Those wicked, wretched, and mangled from within They deserve the title for the filthy rotten sins Monster Monster I’m a monster A sick, perverted psychopath Evil, hideous, an ill-natured maniac I won’t exactly scare you from underneath the bed I will torture, rape, and dissect you, and I will, not stop even in death Monster Monster You’re a monster A sick, deranged, creep Grotesque, twisted, miscreated fiend Leviathan Colossus Demonical Monster |
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8. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
His shadow stalks along the tombstones at night Sniffing out graves, hungering for what’s inside Led by an obituary towards recent graves still fresh Exhilarated by the thought of biting into cold dead flesh Fixated, fascinated by Democritús’ experiments Slowly his spirit grew black-hearted and malevolent Thin was the line separating psychiatric ward from home But the cemetery is where he liked to roam Morgue rat Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Der Vampir von Nürnberg - Kissing the corpse Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Human strigoi Satanic necrophiliac dabbling in the wickedness of the occult Vampiric heinous murderer spreading death, misery and tumult Tonguing the cavity of a gunshot wound his most delicious vice Behold, the vampire of Nuremberg shall rise Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Morgue rat Ich krieche wie eine Ratte durch die Nacht Mal sehen was das Grab mir hat gebracht Die Leiche ist noch Frisch ich trinke ihr Blut Oh Gottverdammt das tut richtig gut Der Vampir von Nürnberg – The gun is his tool Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Blood-sucking strigoi Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Corpse-fucking ghoul Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Murderer |
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9. | Skull with a Forked Tongue | 05:56 | Show lyrics |
I slept amongst the dead, ate the flesh of dogs and black leavened bread I pronounce the three unclean names carved in bone, to consult this mantic head Sorcery as a divinatory tool, to find that stone all philosophers seek A black shadow ascends, possessing its vessel and so the skull begins to speak Conjuration Craniomancy Divination Skull necromancy It keeps me from sleep in the middle of the night Its weary grave voice mutters, wails and sings Moaning, whining, whispering, teeth-grinding Preaching evil and the pleasure it brings Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Consulting the skull night after night from the rising moon till the morning turns bright Tell me how to lift the veil separating life from death so I can steal the holy grail Skull with a forked tongue Skull with a forked tongue The Flesh of hyenas that have fed on the dead The foam from the muzzles of rabid dogs Uncommon herbs, bone powder and the skin of snakes Distilled in a mixture of oil and human blood Elixer vitae! Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Formulated step by step I’ve created the elixir of life My spirit now scarred and mangled A price paid with my own demise My flesh rots away, I ask myself why? For I shall live forever, yet all I want is to die Forever in decay, my flesh rots away |
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10. | Like a Conscious Parasite I Roam | 08:16 | Show lyrics |
In sunset’s saddening glory Shrouded in agony A being at a loss A man and his cause, so maddening It became his cross My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation I drank from the promise of a life eternal Yet the rotting of my flesh spills into irony My being is now doomed to witness The decay of my corpse Still bound to my form I keep lurking for a new life to come My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation, reincarnation Like a conscious parasite I roam Lost, confined by the margins of life Here in German woodland I wait for innocent blood to arrive |
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11. | Frederick’s Experiments | 02:40 | Show lyrics |
A cockroach’s decapitated head lives on for days I’m intrigued and inspired by nature and its ways Experimenting on insects, birds, dogs and rats The subjects die instantly after severing their head In the arts of life man invents nothing But in the arts of death he outdoes nature herself A leg of a dissected spider still contracts This resurrects the idea of an experiment on human legs A limb sawed off and stolen from the local cemetery Contracting muscles quiver through electricity Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor Knew exactly what to do with his prisoners Sealed in a wooden barrel with single hole Observing time of death and departing of the soul Two prisoners are invited for dinner at the same time One is sent out hunting, the other ordered to sleep for a while Both men disemboweled, compared with fascinated eyes On the contents of their stomachs and the effects of sleep and exercise Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor A man with a taste for scientific horror The quest for the primal language of mankind An experiment designed by a dark sadistic mind Infants bred to be raised like Adam and Eve To be bathed and fed by mutes, words never spoken All their lives concealed from love, care and speech Psychotic savages all ending up broken |
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50:41 |
Lammendam
Members | |
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Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (rhythm) (additional) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 2, 8) |
Yves Blaschette | Cello (track 8) |
Hye-Jung | Vocals (female) (track 5) |
Philip Breuer | Vocals (track 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Erik Wijnands | Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Het spook van de Leiffartshof | 01:28 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | A Strange Presence Near the Woods | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
White is the mark of this sighting amd black is its soul, dark is the soil where it haunts upon Jesus Christ, you were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods. Shadows over Lammendam, shadows over Lammendam. It’s the point of death’s return for a grand castle there once burned. Something is following me yet there’s no one I see as I walk the old pathways near the woods. A murderous identity is staring from the trees, now I realize that I have trodden spectral sanctities. Wandering through forests and dreary fields, I think I’m lost. Yes I’m lost! Cannot describe this horrendous fear, I think I’m cursed. Tricked and cursed! Suddenly I stumble onto a forgotten sanctuary, a tomb of a castle scorched by time. Bound to the entity that is determined to take my life. Here comes the night! Nocturnal threnodies and funerary thoughts of my death-bell clanging through my mind. Overwhelmed by approaching dark sounds, listen to the devilish anthems of a shrieking ghost when the moon is perfectly round. All that’s left is a shallow empty moat, there were my rigid body floats through a cold void what Dutch men call "dood". Dood... No one in the village knew, why disappear? Wish they knew my corpse was here! Shadows over Lammendam no return, no return from Lammendam! |
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3. | Haunting Echoes from the Seventeenth Century | 05:05 | Show lyrics |
Hear this legend, a saga of despair from an old southern town called Sjilvend. The elder peasants warned us, we should fear a hidden unmarked tomb in those marshy woods not far from here. This is the saga of the white ghost haunting Lammendam, there a sick reflection keeps resurrecting only when the sun is gone. Once there stood a castle in a wood, it seemed a rather old wealthy looking farmstead. There lived a girl with the beauty of a pearl, especially when she wore a white dress and wandered through fields of hard-working churls. Everyone knew there were two young fellows who gave up everything for the love of their dreams. They did not care poor or rich, she stole their hearts like a goddamn witch! This region once was called De Leiffartshof! One was the German son of Högenbusch, the other one came from a domain called Heeringhof, and they both weren’t aware of their mistress in white who could not decide. Echoes from the 17th century... During day he came with his horse and carriage then whistled. Then she knew he was there a secret affair! Therefore you’ll be crowned as a whore. Lammendam! The sun is drowning in the landscapes of the earth, the time to seduce her second admirer. There lies a note by the old knotted oak, carrying a stone and romantic poetry telling her when where to go. One day he’s riding his black horse through southern paradise, by coincidence he caught his doll cheating with another lad. Slut, why? And they hated passionately ever after. |
|||
4. | Phobic Shadows and Moonlit Meadows | 06:54 | Show lyrics |
Hatred’s occultation causing harm upon their relation. No amour tomorrow when love shall be consumed by sorrow. Sorrow! In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace. Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate. One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams. Her castle burned like sceneries in Hell, she suffered like a pig. Oh God, I love this tale to tell! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Repulsive temptress in white prepare to die, and kiss thy pale warm skin goodbye. Hör mir zu, dein Fleisch ist in meiner Welt verboten. Du sollst tanzen im Schattenreich, dem Land der Toten. In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Finsternis, in Dunkelheit! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Unfaithful mistress in white where is your pride? Accept your faith in twilight! In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Grausamkeit und Finsternis. Im Schattenreich! |
|||
5. | Hexed Melting Flesh | 02:06 | Show lyrics |
That night was weird, restless and bright. For the moon kept shining this awkward sick light. The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child. No hundreds weeping as if they realise it’s time to die. Raindrops keep falling and falling like tears. Like the infant’s sorrow, as if it’s raining from their fears Then what happened no one could tell but mark my wordsit’s a pretty sick trick from Hell. Goodnight, sleep tight, my mistress in white. Sweet dreams of death and moonlight. |
|||
6. | The Carriage Wheel Murder | 03:40 | Show lyrics |
Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken. The way those empty eyes stared as if they saw the doors of Hell going open. Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned, princess of the moon roaming timeless gloom. Murder, murder! Once sick of hatred now frightened of these unsolved deaths, his cheating mistress and her lover passed away like rats. Now Ian’s hourglass is leaking time like a bleeding that cannot be stopped, for a lugubrious existence is craving for his teardrops and blood. Kijk mij aan zodat de duisternis in jouw ziel kan schijnen. Jouw bestaan zal als een tijdloze vloek in de dood verdwijnen. That day he’s riding through the forest as his intuition speaks: "You are being followed!", then the spirit attacked from the trees. It pushed his face into the spinning carriage wheels, his skull cracked open and there were no more screams! |
|||
7. | Corpse in a Nebulous Creek | 05:24 | Show lyrics |
One year later, still traumatized by her ghastly screams, he tastes and smells her burning flesh in his most sickening hypnotic dreams. These illusions seemed so damn real, what a nightmarish ordeal! My lady’s corpse was never found within the remains. Even her skeleton dissolved, there was no proper burial day. What a shame that heavenly beauty could not stay, and something devilish stayed to play. Corpse, corpse... His name was Manfred, his father was a German count. Depression hid companion until his pounded cold corpse shall be found. Depression, now he is suffering a severe form of psychosis. Corpse in a nebulous creek! I saw something white dwell through the woods like a macabre dead bride. Trembling with fear, still cannot believe that like a false dog it kept staring at me. Corpse, corpse... Seriously considering suicide Shall I drink the poison, cut my wrists or hang myself high tonight? He made a choice and took a ride along the farthest trees and then, when they jumped a misty creek, he fell and broke his neck. Was he insane? No, she came back and pushed him, so sad. Broke his neck, horse shot dead. Broke his neck, now he’s dead. Now he’s dead! |
|||
8. | Invisible Physic Entity | 01:21 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Heretic Poltergeist Phenomena | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance. Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger caught between life and death. A threatening presence of an invisible personality. It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world. Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom, repeating tragedy summoned by the moon. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena. Listen to the laments of the sick moaning dead. They speak a simple fearsome language, knocking and moving objects and scratching against the walls. For some reason they refuse to pass over to the light. It could be love, hate and vengeance that keeps them wandering circles at night. Heretic Poltergeist phenomena! Heretic poltergeist phenomena! Ghost, a lost semi-transparent existence. Soul, a misty human form of negative anger confusing life with death. Cursed and desolated in an earthly stream of tears, it keeps arising like a wolf when a full moon appears. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena! |
|||
10. | La Malédiction de la Dame Blanche | 07:07 | Show lyrics |
Tâchez d’être rentrés avant le clair de lune, parce qu’alors la forêt devient vivante! They plough on the lands near a damned baleful source of evil. Drifting foreign knaves, broken slaves of war trying to avoid the wrath of the french revolution. Eyes of fear and confusion, they seem terrified of the white cloaked haze that lies dormant in daylight yet haunts moonlit crops at night. The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". Some of them worked late on their fields and mysteriously disappeared as if they just ran straight into the black marsh to escape from the atrocities of the white ghost. Certainly convinced she came forth since that hellish fire. Like a straw she burned, none concerned until her phantasm had returned from a bleak spectral world. Frequently she’s seen in the gleam of a dismal chimerical moon floating through clouds of gloom. La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! This town is haunted, this town is goddamn cursed. These trees have eyes staring through your soul during moonrise. Oh, you don’t believe the truth? Turn around, perhaps she’s standing right behind you. Right now! The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". These words were transformed by the church which identified the curse as "De Lammendam". And don’t expect a happy ending when I say goodbye. You may kiss the bride before you will brutally die. |
|||
41:26 |
Lammendam
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (rhythm) (additional) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 2, 8) |
Yves Blaschette | Cello (track 8) |
Hye-Jung | Vocals (female) (track 5) |
Philip Breuer | Vocals (track 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Design |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Het spook van de Leiffartshof | 01:28 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | A Strange Presence Near the Woods | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
White is the mark of this sighting amd black is its soul, dark is the soil where it haunts upon Jesus Christ, you were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods. Shadows over Lammendam, shadows over Lammendam. It’s the point of death’s return for a grand castle there once burned. Something is following me yet there’s no one I see as I walk the old pathways near the woods. A murderous identity is staring from the trees, now I realize that I have trodden spectral sanctities. Wandering through forests and dreary fields, I think I’m lost. Yes I’m lost! Cannot describe this horrendous fear, I think I’m cursed. Tricked and cursed! Suddenly I stumble onto a forgotten sanctuary, a tomb of a castle scorched by time. Bound to the entity that is determined to take my life. Here comes the night! Nocturnal threnodies and funerary thoughts of my death-bell clanging through my mind. Overwhelmed by approaching dark sounds, listen to the devilish anthems of a shrieking ghost when the moon is perfectly round. All that’s left is a shallow empty moat, there were my rigid body floats through a cold void what Dutch men call "dood". Dood... No one in the village knew, why disappear? Wish they knew my corpse was here! Shadows over Lammendam no return, no return from Lammendam! |
|||
3. | Haunting Echoes from the Seventeenth Century | 05:05 | Show lyrics |
Hear this legend, a saga of despair from an old southern town called Sjilvend. The elder peasants warned us, we should fear a hidden unmarked tomb in those marshy woods not far from here. This is the saga of the white ghost haunting Lammendam, there a sick reflection keeps resurrecting only when the sun is gone. Once there stood a castle in a wood, it seemed a rather old wealthy looking farmstead. There lived a girl with the beauty of a pearl, especially when she wore a white dress and wandered through fields of hard-working churls. Everyone knew there were two young fellows who gave up everything for the love of their dreams. They did not care poor or rich, she stole their hearts like a goddamn witch! This region once was called De Leiffartshof! One was the German son of Högenbusch, the other one came from a domain called Heeringhof, and they both weren’t aware of their mistress in white who could not decide. Echoes from the 17th century... During day he came with his horse and carriage then whistled. Then she knew he was there a secret affair! Therefore you’ll be crowned as a whore. Lammendam! The sun is drowning in the landscapes of the earth, the time to seduce her second admirer. There lies a note by the old knotted oak, carrying a stone and romantic poetry telling her when where to go. One day he’s riding his black horse through southern paradise, by coincidence he caught his doll cheating with another lad. Slut, why? And they hated passionately ever after. |
|||
4. | Phobic Shadows and Moonlit Meadows | 06:54 | Show lyrics |
Hatred’s occultation causing harm upon their relation. No amour tomorrow when love shall be consumed by sorrow. Sorrow! In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace. Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate. One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams. Her castle burned like sceneries in Hell, she suffered like a pig. Oh God, I love this tale to tell! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Repulsive temptress in white prepare to die, and kiss thy pale warm skin goodbye. Hör mir zu, dein Fleisch ist in meiner Welt verboten. Du sollst tanzen im Schattenreich, dem Land der Toten. In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Finsternis, in Dunkelheit! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Unfaithful mistress in white where is your pride? Accept your faith in twilight! In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Grausamkeit und Finsternis. Im Schattenreich! |
|||
5. | Hexed Melting Flesh | 02:06 | Show lyrics |
That night was weird, restless and bright. For the moon kept shining this awkward sick light. The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child. No hundreds weeping as if they realise it’s time to die. Raindrops keep falling and falling like tears. Like the infant’s sorrow, as if it’s raining from their fears Then what happened no one could tell but mark my wordsit’s a pretty sick trick from Hell. Goodnight, sleep tight, my mistress in white. Sweet dreams of death and moonlight. |
|||
6. | The Carriage Wheel Murder | 03:40 | Show lyrics |
Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken. The way those empty eyes stared as if they saw the doors of Hell going open. Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned, princess of the moon roaming timeless gloom. Murder, murder! Once sick of hatred now frightened of these unsolved deaths, his cheating mistress and her lover passed away like rats. Now Ian’s hourglass is leaking time like a bleeding that cannot be stopped, for a lugubrious existence is craving for his teardrops and blood. Kijk mij aan zodat de duisternis in jouw ziel kan schijnen. Jouw bestaan zal als een tijdloze vloek in de dood verdwijnen. That day he’s riding through the forest as his intuition speaks: "You are being followed!", then the spirit attacked from the trees. It pushed his face into the spinning carriage wheels, his skull cracked open and there were no more screams! |
|||
7. | Corpse in a Nebulous Creek | 05:24 | Show lyrics |
One year later, still traumatized by her ghastly screams, he tastes and smells her burning flesh in his most sickening hypnotic dreams. These illusions seemed so damn real, what a nightmarish ordeal! My lady’s corpse was never found within the remains. Even her skeleton dissolved, there was no proper burial day. What a shame that heavenly beauty could not stay, and something devilish stayed to play. Corpse, corpse... His name was Manfred, his father was a German count. Depression hid companion until his pounded cold corpse shall be found. Depression, now he is suffering a severe form of psychosis. Corpse in a nebulous creek! I saw something white dwell through the woods like a macabre dead bride. Trembling with fear, still cannot believe that like a false dog it kept staring at me. Corpse, corpse... Seriously considering suicide Shall I drink the poison, cut my wrists or hang myself high tonight? He made a choice and took a ride along the farthest trees and then, when they jumped a misty creek, he fell and broke his neck. Was he insane? No, she came back and pushed him, so sad. Broke his neck, horse shot dead. Broke his neck, now he’s dead. Now he’s dead! |
|||
8. | Invisible Physic Entity | 01:21 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
9. | Heretic Poltergeist Phenomena | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance. Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger caught between life and death. A threatening presence of an invisible personality. It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world. Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom, repeating tragedy summoned by the moon. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena. Listen to the laments of the sick moaning dead. They speak a simple fearsome language, knocking and moving objects and scratching against the walls. For some reason they refuse to pass over to the light. It could be love, hate and vengeance that keeps them wandering circles at night. Heretic Poltergeist phenomena! Heretic poltergeist phenomena! Ghost, a lost semi-transparent existence. Soul, a misty human form of negative anger confusing life with death. Cursed and desolated in an earthly stream of tears, it keeps arising like a wolf when a full moon appears. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena! |
|||
10. | La Malédiction de la Dame Blanche | 07:07 | Show lyrics |
Tâchez d’être rentrés avant le clair de lune, parce qu’alors la forêt devient vivante! They plough on the lands near a damned baleful source of evil. Drifting foreign knaves, broken slaves of war trying to avoid the wrath of the french revolution. Eyes of fear and confusion, they seem terrified of the white cloaked haze that lies dormant in daylight yet haunts moonlit crops at night. The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". Some of them worked late on their fields and mysteriously disappeared as if they just ran straight into the black marsh to escape from the atrocities of the white ghost. Certainly convinced she came forth since that hellish fire. Like a straw she burned, none concerned until her phantasm had returned from a bleak spectral world. Frequently she’s seen in the gleam of a dismal chimerical moon floating through clouds of gloom. La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! This town is haunted, this town is goddamn cursed. These trees have eyes staring through your soul during moonrise. Oh, you don’t believe the truth? Turn around, perhaps she’s standing right behind you. Right now! The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". These words were transformed by the church which identified the curse as "De Lammendam". And don’t expect a happy ending when I say goodbye. You may kiss the bride before you will brutally die. |
|||
11. | There Was No Light | 01:22 | Show lyrics |
And when she finally reached Heaven there was no light! |
|||
12. | After Death Premises | 04:15 | Show lyrics |
Bewitching spheres I sense when the temperatures fall whilst dusk quickly devours all light inside the Townshend’s hall. Ghostly phenomena I have seen, roaming its huge corridors as if I dream abysmal dreams. 1835, the year that Colonel Loftus saw dark things at night. Walking towards his room, a spectral form appeared then vaporized in gloom. Tenebrous winds waving curtains. Unreal noises, footsteps, and strange voices. Neither Christ nor sunlight marked this place with holy grace during these Christmas days. I feel dark things staring at me, this classic realm is just another version of Hell. Her dead skin glowed with a pale luminescence, a forgotten entity that dwells in a brown satin dress. Chained in a void of tragedy, bound to seek her children in everlasting eternity. Colonel Loftus met her twice, the second time she stared at him and had no eyes. Her feature looked horrific and cruel, watching the Colonel like a terrifying pagan ghoul. |
|||
13. | Yonder Realm Photography | 05:50 | Show lyrics |
Two photographers were on assignment for a known magazine. They approached the accursed hall, unaware of the ghost that still dwells within. They were assigned to profile Raynham’s structure, focusing on adequate exposures. There hung a mystic sphere, emotions of unexplainable fear made them clear they’d rather disappear. For this old house gave them weird conjectures as if something dark come near. Misty form roams through the night, torturous soul astrayed from light. Portraits of dead entities, yonder realm photography. Gazing with fear up the staircase, a ghostly shape arose before their eyes. Quick, there is something strange! Click was the sound that the flashlight pistol and the camera made. They developed a picture that showed a morbid image apparently of the brown lady. Raynham Hall... |
|||
52:53 |
Lammendam
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (rhythm) (additional) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 2, 8) |
Yves Blaschette | Cello (track 8) |
Hye-Jung | Vocals (female) (track 5) |
Philip Breuer | Vocals (track 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Design |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Het spook van de Leiffartshof | 01:28 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | A Strange Presence Near the Woods | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
White is the mark of this sighting amd black is its soul, dark is the soil where it haunts upon Jesus Christ, you were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods. Shadows over Lammendam, shadows over Lammendam. It’s the point of death’s return for a grand castle there once burned. Something is following me yet there’s no one I see as I walk the old pathways near the woods. A murderous identity is staring from the trees, now I realize that I have trodden spectral sanctities. Wandering through forests and dreary fields, I think I’m lost. Yes I’m lost! Cannot describe this horrendous fear, I think I’m cursed. Tricked and cursed! Suddenly I stumble onto a forgotten sanctuary, a tomb of a castle scorched by time. Bound to the entity that is determined to take my life. Here comes the night! Nocturnal threnodies and funerary thoughts of my death-bell clanging through my mind. Overwhelmed by approaching dark sounds, listen to the devilish anthems of a shrieking ghost when the moon is perfectly round. All that’s left is a shallow empty moat, there were my rigid body floats through a cold void what Dutch men call "dood". Dood... No one in the village knew, why disappear? Wish they knew my corpse was here! Shadows over Lammendam no return, no return from Lammendam! |
|||
3. | Haunting Echoes from the Seventeenth Century | 05:05 | Show lyrics |
Hear this legend, a saga of despair from an old southern town called Sjilvend. The elder peasants warned us, we should fear a hidden unmarked tomb in those marshy woods not far from here. This is the saga of the white ghost haunting Lammendam, there a sick reflection keeps resurrecting only when the sun is gone. Once there stood a castle in a wood, it seemed a rather old wealthy looking farmstead. There lived a girl with the beauty of a pearl, especially when she wore a white dress and wandered through fields of hard-working churls. Everyone knew there were two young fellows who gave up everything for the love of their dreams. They did not care poor or rich, she stole their hearts like a goddamn witch! This region once was called De Leiffartshof! One was the German son of Högenbusch, the other one came from a domain called Heeringhof, and they both weren’t aware of their mistress in white who could not decide. Echoes from the 17th century... During day he came with his horse and carriage then whistled. Then she knew he was there a secret affair! Therefore you’ll be crowned as a whore. Lammendam! The sun is drowning in the landscapes of the earth, the time to seduce her second admirer. There lies a note by the old knotted oak, carrying a stone and romantic poetry telling her when where to go. One day he’s riding his black horse through southern paradise, by coincidence he caught his doll cheating with another lad. Slut, why? And they hated passionately ever after. |
|||
4. | Phobic Shadows and Moonlit Meadows | 06:54 | Show lyrics |
Hatred’s occultation causing harm upon their relation. No amour tomorrow when love shall be consumed by sorrow. Sorrow! In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace. Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate. One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams. Her castle burned like sceneries in Hell, she suffered like a pig. Oh God, I love this tale to tell! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Repulsive temptress in white prepare to die, and kiss thy pale warm skin goodbye. Hör mir zu, dein Fleisch ist in meiner Welt verboten. Du sollst tanzen im Schattenreich, dem Land der Toten. In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Finsternis, in Dunkelheit! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Unfaithful mistress in white where is your pride? Accept your faith in twilight! In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Grausamkeit und Finsternis. Im Schattenreich! |
|||
Side B | |||
5. | Hexed Melting Flesh | 02:06 | Show lyrics |
That night was weird, restless and bright. For the moon kept shining this awkward sick light. The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child. No hundreds weeping as if they realise it’s time to die. Raindrops keep falling and falling like tears. Like the infant’s sorrow, as if it’s raining from their fears Then what happened no one could tell but mark my wordsit’s a pretty sick trick from Hell. Goodnight, sleep tight, my mistress in white. Sweet dreams of death and moonlight. |
|||
6. | The Carriage Wheel Murder | 03:40 | Show lyrics |
Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken. The way those empty eyes stared as if they saw the doors of Hell going open. Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned, princess of the moon roaming timeless gloom. Murder, murder! Once sick of hatred now frightened of these unsolved deaths, his cheating mistress and her lover passed away like rats. Now Ian’s hourglass is leaking time like a bleeding that cannot be stopped, for a lugubrious existence is craving for his teardrops and blood. Kijk mij aan zodat de duisternis in jouw ziel kan schijnen. Jouw bestaan zal als een tijdloze vloek in de dood verdwijnen. That day he’s riding through the forest as his intuition speaks: "You are being followed!", then the spirit attacked from the trees. It pushed his face into the spinning carriage wheels, his skull cracked open and there were no more screams! |
|||
7. | Corpse in a Nebulous Creek | 05:24 | Show lyrics |
One year later, still traumatized by her ghastly screams, he tastes and smells her burning flesh in his most sickening hypnotic dreams. These illusions seemed so damn real, what a nightmarish ordeal! My lady’s corpse was never found within the remains. Even her skeleton dissolved, there was no proper burial day. What a shame that heavenly beauty could not stay, and something devilish stayed to play. Corpse, corpse... His name was Manfred, his father was a German count. Depression hid companion until his pounded cold corpse shall be found. Depression, now he is suffering a severe form of psychosis. Corpse in a nebulous creek! I saw something white dwell through the woods like a macabre dead bride. Trembling with fear, still cannot believe that like a false dog it kept staring at me. Corpse, corpse... Seriously considering suicide Shall I drink the poison, cut my wrists or hang myself high tonight? He made a choice and took a ride along the farthest trees and then, when they jumped a misty creek, he fell and broke his neck. Was he insane? No, she came back and pushed him, so sad. Broke his neck, horse shot dead. Broke his neck, now he’s dead. Now he’s dead! |
|||
8. | Invisible Physic Entity | 01:21 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
30:11 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Heretic Poltergeist Phenomena | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance. Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger caught between life and death. A threatening presence of an invisible personality. It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world. Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom, repeating tragedy summoned by the moon. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena. Listen to the laments of the sick moaning dead. They speak a simple fearsome language, knocking and moving objects and scratching against the walls. For some reason they refuse to pass over to the light. It could be love, hate and vengeance that keeps them wandering circles at night. Heretic Poltergeist phenomena! Heretic poltergeist phenomena! Ghost, a lost semi-transparent existence. Soul, a misty human form of negative anger confusing life with death. Cursed and desolated in an earthly stream of tears, it keeps arising like a wolf when a full moon appears. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena! |
|||
2. | La Malédiction de la Dame Blanche | 07:07 | Show lyrics |
Tâchez d’être rentrés avant le clair de lune, parce qu’alors la forêt devient vivante! They plough on the lands near a damned baleful source of evil. Drifting foreign knaves, broken slaves of war trying to avoid the wrath of the french revolution. Eyes of fear and confusion, they seem terrified of the white cloaked haze that lies dormant in daylight yet haunts moonlit crops at night. The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". Some of them worked late on their fields and mysteriously disappeared as if they just ran straight into the black marsh to escape from the atrocities of the white ghost. Certainly convinced she came forth since that hellish fire. Like a straw she burned, none concerned until her phantasm had returned from a bleak spectral world. Frequently she’s seen in the gleam of a dismal chimerical moon floating through clouds of gloom. La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! This town is haunted, this town is goddamn cursed. These trees have eyes staring through your soul during moonrise. Oh, you don’t believe the truth? Turn around, perhaps she’s standing right behind you. Right now! The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". These words were transformed by the church which identified the curse as "De Lammendam". And don’t expect a happy ending when I say goodbye. You may kiss the bride before you will brutally die. |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | There Was No Light | 01:22 | Show lyrics |
And when she finally reached Heaven there was no light! |
|||
4. | After Death Premises | 04:15 | Show lyrics |
Bewitching spheres I sense when the temperatures fall whilst dusk quickly devours all light inside the Townshend’s hall. Ghostly phenomena I have seen, roaming its huge corridors as if I dream abysmal dreams. 1835, the year that Colonel Loftus saw dark things at night. Walking towards his room, a spectral form appeared then vaporized in gloom. Tenebrous winds waving curtains. Unreal noises, footsteps, and strange voices. Neither Christ nor sunlight marked this place with holy grace during these Christmas days. I feel dark things staring at me, this classic realm is just another version of Hell. Her dead skin glowed with a pale luminescence, a forgotten entity that dwells in a brown satin dress. Chained in a void of tragedy, bound to seek her children in everlasting eternity. Colonel Loftus met her twice, the second time she stared at him and had no eyes. Her feature looked horrific and cruel, watching the Colonel like a terrifying pagan ghoul. |
|||
5. | Yonder Realm Photography | 05:50 | Show lyrics |
Two photographers were on assignment for a known magazine. They approached the accursed hall, unaware of the ghost that still dwells within. They were assigned to profile Raynham’s structure, focusing on adequate exposures. There hung a mystic sphere, emotions of unexplainable fear made them clear they’d rather disappear. For this old house gave them weird conjectures as if something dark come near. Misty form roams through the night, torturous soul astrayed from light. Portraits of dead entities, yonder realm photography. Gazing with fear up the staircase, a ghostly shape arose before their eyes. Quick, there is something strange! Click was the sound that the flashlight pistol and the camera made. They developed a picture that showed a morbid image apparently of the brown lady. Raynham Hall... |
|||
22:42 |
Lammendam
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (rhythm) (additional) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 2, 8) |
Yves Blaschette | Cello (track 8) |
Hye-Jung | Vocals (female) (track 5) |
Philip Breuer | Vocals (track 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Mastering, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Design |
Tracks | |||
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Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Het spook van de Leiffartshof | 01:28 | instrumental |
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2. | A Strange Presence Near the Woods | 04:13 | Show lyrics |
White is the mark of this sighting amd black is its soul, dark is the soil where it haunts upon Jesus Christ, you were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods. Shadows over Lammendam, shadows over Lammendam. It’s the point of death’s return for a grand castle there once burned. Something is following me yet there’s no one I see as I walk the old pathways near the woods. A murderous identity is staring from the trees, now I realize that I have trodden spectral sanctities. Wandering through forests and dreary fields, I think I’m lost. Yes I’m lost! Cannot describe this horrendous fear, I think I’m cursed. Tricked and cursed! Suddenly I stumble onto a forgotten sanctuary, a tomb of a castle scorched by time. Bound to the entity that is determined to take my life. Here comes the night! Nocturnal threnodies and funerary thoughts of my death-bell clanging through my mind. Overwhelmed by approaching dark sounds, listen to the devilish anthems of a shrieking ghost when the moon is perfectly round. All that’s left is a shallow empty moat, there were my rigid body floats through a cold void what Dutch men call "dood". Dood... No one in the village knew, why disappear? Wish they knew my corpse was here! Shadows over Lammendam no return, no return from Lammendam! |
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3. | Haunting Echoes from the Seventeenth Century | 05:05 | Show lyrics |
Hear this legend, a saga of despair from an old southern town called Sjilvend. The elder peasants warned us, we should fear a hidden unmarked tomb in those marshy woods not far from here. This is the saga of the white ghost haunting Lammendam, there a sick reflection keeps resurrecting only when the sun is gone. Once there stood a castle in a wood, it seemed a rather old wealthy looking farmstead. There lived a girl with the beauty of a pearl, especially when she wore a white dress and wandered through fields of hard-working churls. Everyone knew there were two young fellows who gave up everything for the love of their dreams. They did not care poor or rich, she stole their hearts like a goddamn witch! This region once was called De Leiffartshof! One was the German son of Högenbusch, the other one came from a domain called Heeringhof, and they both weren’t aware of their mistress in white who could not decide. Echoes from the 17th century... During day he came with his horse and carriage then whistled. Then she knew he was there a secret affair! Therefore you’ll be crowned as a whore. Lammendam! The sun is drowning in the landscapes of the earth, the time to seduce her second admirer. There lies a note by the old knotted oak, carrying a stone and romantic poetry telling her when where to go. One day he’s riding his black horse through southern paradise, by coincidence he caught his doll cheating with another lad. Slut, why? And they hated passionately ever after. |
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4. | Phobic Shadows and Moonlit Meadows | 06:54 | Show lyrics |
Hatred’s occultation causing harm upon their relation. No amour tomorrow when love shall be consumed by sorrow. Sorrow! In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace. Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate. One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams. Her castle burned like sceneries in Hell, she suffered like a pig. Oh God, I love this tale to tell! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Repulsive temptress in white prepare to die, and kiss thy pale warm skin goodbye. Hör mir zu, dein Fleisch ist in meiner Welt verboten. Du sollst tanzen im Schattenreich, dem Land der Toten. In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Finsternis, in Dunkelheit! Whorish desire sentenced with the punishment of fire. Unfaithful mistress in white where is your pride? Accept your faith in twilight! In Dunkelheit, in Finsternis und Einsamkeit. In Grausamkeit und Finsternis. Im Schattenreich! |
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Side B | |||
5. | Hexed Melting Flesh | 02:06 | Show lyrics |
That night was weird, restless and bright. For the moon kept shining this awkward sick light. The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child. No hundreds weeping as if they realise it’s time to die. Raindrops keep falling and falling like tears. Like the infant’s sorrow, as if it’s raining from their fears Then what happened no one could tell but mark my wordsit’s a pretty sick trick from Hell. Goodnight, sleep tight, my mistress in white. Sweet dreams of death and moonlight. |
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6. | The Carriage Wheel Murder | 03:40 | Show lyrics |
Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken. The way those empty eyes stared as if they saw the doors of Hell going open. Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned, princess of the moon roaming timeless gloom. Murder, murder! Once sick of hatred now frightened of these unsolved deaths, his cheating mistress and her lover passed away like rats. Now Ian’s hourglass is leaking time like a bleeding that cannot be stopped, for a lugubrious existence is craving for his teardrops and blood. Kijk mij aan zodat de duisternis in jouw ziel kan schijnen. Jouw bestaan zal als een tijdloze vloek in de dood verdwijnen. That day he’s riding through the forest as his intuition speaks: "You are being followed!", then the spirit attacked from the trees. It pushed his face into the spinning carriage wheels, his skull cracked open and there were no more screams! |
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7. | Corpse in a Nebulous Creek | 05:24 | Show lyrics |
One year later, still traumatized by her ghastly screams, he tastes and smells her burning flesh in his most sickening hypnotic dreams. These illusions seemed so damn real, what a nightmarish ordeal! My lady’s corpse was never found within the remains. Even her skeleton dissolved, there was no proper burial day. What a shame that heavenly beauty could not stay, and something devilish stayed to play. Corpse, corpse... His name was Manfred, his father was a German count. Depression hid companion until his pounded cold corpse shall be found. Depression, now he is suffering a severe form of psychosis. Corpse in a nebulous creek! I saw something white dwell through the woods like a macabre dead bride. Trembling with fear, still cannot believe that like a false dog it kept staring at me. Corpse, corpse... Seriously considering suicide Shall I drink the poison, cut my wrists or hang myself high tonight? He made a choice and took a ride along the farthest trees and then, when they jumped a misty creek, he fell and broke his neck. Was he insane? No, she came back and pushed him, so sad. Broke his neck, horse shot dead. Broke his neck, now he’s dead. Now he’s dead! |
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8. | Invisible Physic Entity | 01:21 | instrumental |
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30:11 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Heretic Poltergeist Phenomena | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance. Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger caught between life and death. A threatening presence of an invisible personality. It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world. Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom, repeating tragedy summoned by the moon. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena. Listen to the laments of the sick moaning dead. They speak a simple fearsome language, knocking and moving objects and scratching against the walls. For some reason they refuse to pass over to the light. It could be love, hate and vengeance that keeps them wandering circles at night. Heretic Poltergeist phenomena! Heretic poltergeist phenomena! Ghost, a lost semi-transparent existence. Soul, a misty human form of negative anger confusing life with death. Cursed and desolated in an earthly stream of tears, it keeps arising like a wolf when a full moon appears. Paranormal hysteria, Poltergeist phenomena! |
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2. | La Malédiction de la Dame Blanche | 07:07 | Show lyrics |
Tâchez d’être rentrés avant le clair de lune, parce qu’alors la forêt devient vivante! They plough on the lands near a damned baleful source of evil. Drifting foreign knaves, broken slaves of war trying to avoid the wrath of the french revolution. Eyes of fear and confusion, they seem terrified of the white cloaked haze that lies dormant in daylight yet haunts moonlit crops at night. The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". Some of them worked late on their fields and mysteriously disappeared as if they just ran straight into the black marsh to escape from the atrocities of the white ghost. Certainly convinced she came forth since that hellish fire. Like a straw she burned, none concerned until her phantasm had returned from a bleak spectral world. Frequently she’s seen in the gleam of a dismal chimerical moon floating through clouds of gloom. La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! La malédiction de La Madame Blanche! This town is haunted, this town is goddamn cursed. These trees have eyes staring through your soul during moonrise. Oh, you don’t believe the truth? Turn around, perhaps she’s standing right behind you. Right now! The french peasants called the apparition "La Madame Blanche". These words were transformed by the church which identified the curse as "De Lammendam". And don’t expect a happy ending when I say goodbye. You may kiss the bride before you will brutally die. |
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Side B | |||
3. | There Was No Light | 01:22 | Show lyrics |
And when she finally reached Heaven there was no light! |
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4. | After Death Premises | 04:15 | Show lyrics |
Bewitching spheres I sense when the temperatures fall whilst dusk quickly devours all light inside the Townshend’s hall. Ghostly phenomena I have seen, roaming its huge corridors as if I dream abysmal dreams. 1835, the year that Colonel Loftus saw dark things at night. Walking towards his room, a spectral form appeared then vaporized in gloom. Tenebrous winds waving curtains. Unreal noises, footsteps, and strange voices. Neither Christ nor sunlight marked this place with holy grace during these Christmas days. I feel dark things staring at me, this classic realm is just another version of Hell. Her dead skin glowed with a pale luminescence, a forgotten entity that dwells in a brown satin dress. Chained in a void of tragedy, bound to seek her children in everlasting eternity. Colonel Loftus met her twice, the second time she stared at him and had no eyes. Her feature looked horrific and cruel, watching the Colonel like a terrifying pagan ghoul. |
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5. | Yonder Realm Photography | 05:50 | Show lyrics |
Two photographers were on assignment for a known magazine. They approached the accursed hall, unaware of the ghost that still dwells within. They were assigned to profile Raynham’s structure, focusing on adequate exposures. There hung a mystic sphere, emotions of unexplainable fear made them clear they’d rather disappear. For this old house gave them weird conjectures as if something dark come near. Misty form roams through the night, torturous soul astrayed from light. Portraits of dead entities, yonder realm photography. Gazing with fear up the staircase, a ghostly shape arose before their eyes. Quick, there is something strange! Click was the sound that the flashlight pistol and the camera made. They developed a picture that showed a morbid image apparently of the brown lady. Raynham Hall... |
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22:42 |
Death Came Through a Phantom Ship
Members | |
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Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 6), Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Songwriting |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion, Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-5, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (additional), Vocals (choirs) (track 6) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Photography, Design, Texture, Lyrics |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Electronic Voice Phenomena | 00:59 | Show lyrics |
"This is tugboat Grey Star,do you read me? Position 5412 north, 0524 east. This is tugboat Grey Star, please come in! I repeat: This is tugboat Grey Star, does anyone read me?" "Jij zult verzuipen in je eigen bloed!" |
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2. | The Sighting Is a Portent of Doom | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil. Cruising at thirteen knots on a pitch black sea, there’s a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see just an open dreary sea. Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship. No response ’till I receive transmissions of hostile nature. These voices cursing my goddamn name. Hell, is this witchcraft or am I insane? All of a sudden a dark silhouette ascends through ghostlike mist, while it comes closer I recognize the image of an old deserted ship. I am aghast at the sight of a derelict vessel sailing this awkward night, appearing like a black floating cadaver. There’s not one single man aboard, her torn sails cloaking her like a cobwebbed widow posing against this sad nightmarish horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped, gy great-grandfathers clock just ticking now stopped I am smothered by a sudden shroud of fear. For there’s a ghost ship upon a funereal quest with a black bird circling hypnotic around its rocking empty crow’s nest. Fortunately this atrocious mystery sets sail away from me! Some sailors claim other seamen beheld such sights, most died weird deaths during fog-clad days and nights. The ship vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Should I feel fear, was it even here? |
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3. | ...and the Consequence Macabre | 06:45 | Show lyrics |
He came home with trembling bone and spoke: "Evil roams the sea!" I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery. They must think I am weird, my wife and daughter upset by what they hear. As we go to bed I kiss my loves goodnight then close my eyes to forget. Soon, a lucid dream, the room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene. Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind, the first thing I realize is taking a severe beating from someone in the middle of the night. Between the shocking fragments of cold fists ponding on my face I can see a man wearing a black hat causing harm upon me. While he’s laughing and punching simultaneously I manage to grab his throat with both hands and push him over to the left side where my wife sleeps at night. Grabbing the knife on the pedestal cupboard, not thinking twice, and I stab into his face until both eyes liquidize and facial bones collapse. Haphazardly in anxiety I maim his face extremely and still he’s laughing loudly. His clothes look rather old, a stench like dead things and a ragged captain’s coat. This dream is so ghastly and surreal. So many stabwounds, sixty, maybe more, his face simply shattered while blood decorates the floor. Then there is this sound like a snarling hound, I leave the room to look around. It guides me to my daughter’s room but her door is locked. I am terrified of what I might find behind. So quickly I climb the stairs to the old attic and find my double-barrelled shotgun. Ammunition, the weapon’s loaded, I need this nightmare to be done. Done! I break down the door forcefully, a vicious false dog is what I see, and still he’s laughing loudly. It’s not my child for this beast seems foul and wild. Two close ranged shots, still alive, brutally finished with the knife. Now guess who’s gargling closely behind me. I turn around and again I am just an inch away from that face I carved up previously, still laughing suddenly. Thank God, I am awake! Laying in my bed, covered in sweat, the horror I have seen was just an awful dream. Clouded is my sight, finding bloodstains on my hands as I rub my eyes. No, what have I done? My wife besides me, still alive but her face is simply gone. Beauty has been maimed by my hand, disfigured, our kiss will never be the same. Now where the fuck is my little girl? And a dead hound is not what I found, bloodstains on the wall, there’s my daughter’s corpse slaughtered on the ground! One last kiss upon my wife’s trembling hand before I shoot her through the head to set her free from this misery. Imagine the shotgun standing upside down with the barrel in my mouth. The sighting was a portent of doom and the consequence definitely macabre. And before my last tear hits the soil I... |
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4. | Van der Decken’s Triumph | 05:17 | Show lyrics |
"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company. We run a monopoly: spice trade, violence and slavery. "Full speed ahead!" he’s hollering as if he is mad. This ship is captained by a successful psychopath. Fearless, no conscience, the infamous Captain Van der Decken. So obsessed to be the best, nothing less, a crude master yet staunch refusing to back away from any kind of tumult. For mace, nutmeg, clove and cinnamon, for silk, porcelain, ivory and opium. Victoriously sails the V.O.C.! Through the foulest gales, along dangerous reefs and treacherous bays. Respect and obedience, under his command they felt challenged but safe. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. "Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." "Bring me the rum to celebrate the fortunes to come. Let us sing and drink on a rich and glorious time for we shall succeed just like this harmonious rhyme." |
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5. | Bloodstains on the Captain’s Log | 05:52 | Show lyrics |
Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now you hide your fears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to molest you. Catharina if you try to leave there will be grief. A wonderful house built for my wife to dwell, still nagging like one of my annoying men. Catharina! He defies the trust in marriage and God for there are bloodstains on the captain’s log. I stand for greed, lust and the willpower to defeat. The mask I wear is kind, with a distorted face underneath. I believe in bliss through violence andsuppression. Take, rob and rape, don’t let these filthy foreigners escape. On our pillage through the Indian seas, we sail heartless under the flag of piracy. Ravish and ruin their lives, execute theirchildren right before their eyes. My treasure chambers teeming with the riches I adore. I call it passion not a sin to kill for more and more. Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now hold your tears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to violate you. "Once he sailed the course of trade and righteousness. A stern yet stout, master of the sea. Now his soul drowns in condescension. His mind corrupted and martyred by greed. Bloodstains on the captain’s log!" |
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6. | Al betekent het mijn dood | 01:08 | Show lyrics |
This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves, a demonic tempest, my men complaining, I command: We set sail! "I beg you my captain! Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!" "What, your God? May he suffocate, may he rot!" Kept the bible close to me, his book of lies I shall now cast into the sea. "This is blasphemy!" "You hold your tongue or I’ll rip it out and have you hanged for mutiny!" "No, you cannot send us into madness, we shall not obey." With my knife I slowly penetrate his tender throat I curse in rage: "Godverdomme! Wij zullen vaeren! Al betekent het mijn dood!" |
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7. | Departure Towards a Nautical Curse | 05:39 | Show lyrics |
The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat and threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard. In defiance of the storm that kept them anchored for so long he swore an oath to forfeit right and wrong. Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape even if I have to sail until doomsday!" Their petrified facial expressions could tell their master was like a Devil on this floating piece of Hell. There, and then he gave the signal of departure. "Make sail and weigh the hook!", and so they left the harbor. Hear the Easter bells tolling through the roaring sound of a rough sea, accompanied by the sight of a ship sailing towards her destiny. What a spectacle of blasphemy, there was no rejoice after his mad choice! Sails were lost, decks were flooded and lightning turned their ship into a coal-black carcass. Anxiety replaced vainglory! The storm died down but a sinister shroud of darkness remained, for the daylight came no more. Floating in unending dusk, adrift on liquid ground. Months went by and land was never found. Food supplies putrefied and pestilence broke out! Suicide became routine, some chose suspension, others jumped and drowned. The dead were sown in hammocks and disposed of in the sea, buried in a watery grave after a short ceremony. The crew froze as he left his cabin with knife and gun, slaughtering what was left of them one by one. There was an evil murderous glimpse in his eyes and by the time he was done the ship was desecrated by death and demise. Van der Decken lashes himself to the wheel, swearing at Christ: "I shall not yield!" All at once a new storm rose and lightning struck. The top mast broke off, impaling him, a shard of the crest piercing his chest, in a standing position nailed to the deck. And so a man dies and a ghost resurrects! |
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8. | The Course of a Spectral Ship | 05:09 | Show lyrics |
Lots of tears, months became years, their mothers wept for many nights wondering if their sons died. Just when the grief became permissive and brief, tales of a ghost ship were spread, the same vessel where their brood found death. A craft made of mist, coursing in a timeless direction. This cadaverous sighting causing mayhem through reflection. These dark words are whispered in the local hangout of our port. Sailors and captains sketching a ship’s hull with a black shape aboard. Robust dauntless sea-dogs speak with a frightened tone in their voice: "Blue was the sky and the sun smiled at the crew then a storm came forth, moving swiftly from the north. Claps of thunder rumble, cold winds whining loud. A ghostly solstice weeping thick tears from its dreary clouds. As if these raindrops awoke something from its sleep, ticking on a liquid grave to evoke a devilish ship from the sea. The rise of a haunting in the form of a demon vessel. Now this black ship veered its bow! Changing her course, sailing straight into our direction. Anxious seamen screaming out loud: Search for protection! Right before it collides a dark figure was seen, standing on the prow with a black hound by his side. Surrounded by corpses, a sardonic smile and a sinister glance in his eyes. No movement, not one single tremor was felt on board. This spectral ship sailed straight through our vessel and our soul. The only thing we sensed was a bleak gust, a chill breeze, so cold." |
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9. | The Shining Was a Portent of Gloom | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle, sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle. The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter, clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" A ship made of mist like quicksilver thread, this skeleton vessel sings songs for the dead. To take a deep breath and set his mind back in motion, he stumbles upright and fumbles to the prow. His eyes now closed to hear his dear ocean, he feels the world has altered somehow. Deafening silence, the ocean seems gone, hardly a whisper nor notes of wind song. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" In a final attempt to end this bitter roam, he looks at the stars with their comforting glare. But the lights above that once guided him home, scattered and shattered, are no longer there. Now dawning upon him like rays of the sun, his state and his fate cannot be undone. The captain now trapped on this skeleton vessel, adrift on the void in a black floating castle. Chained to a twilight and bound to his boat, swearing his vengeance on others afloat. Lights at the end that have the world in their grip. He shall have his conquest as death came through a phantom ship! |
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43:47 |
Death Came Through a Phantom Ship
Members | |
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Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 6), Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Songwriting |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion, Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (additional), Vocals (choirs) (track 6) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-5, 9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Photography, Design, Texture, Lyrics |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Electronic Voice Phenomena | 00:59 | Show lyrics |
"This is tugboat Grey Star,do you read me? Position 5412 north, 0524 east. This is tugboat Grey Star, please come in! I repeat: This is tugboat Grey Star, does anyone read me?" "Jij zult verzuipen in je eigen bloed!" |
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2. | The Sighting Is a Portent of Doom | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil. Cruising at thirteen knots on a pitch black sea, there’s a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see just an open dreary sea. Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship. No response ’till I receive transmissions of hostile nature. These voices cursing my goddamn name. Hell, is this witchcraft or am I insane? All of a sudden a dark silhouette ascends through ghostlike mist, while it comes closer I recognize the image of an old deserted ship. I am aghast at the sight of a derelict vessel sailing this awkward night, appearing like a black floating cadaver. There’s not one single man aboard, her torn sails cloaking her like a cobwebbed widow posing against this sad nightmarish horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped, gy great-grandfathers clock just ticking now stopped I am smothered by a sudden shroud of fear. For there’s a ghost ship upon a funereal quest with a black bird circling hypnotic around its rocking empty crow’s nest. Fortunately this atrocious mystery sets sail away from me! Some sailors claim other seamen beheld such sights, most died weird deaths during fog-clad days and nights. The ship vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Should I feel fear, was it even here? |
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3. | ...and the Consequence Macabre | 06:45 | Show lyrics |
He came home with trembling bone and spoke: "Evil roams the sea!" I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery. They must think I am weird, my wife and daughter upset by what they hear. As we go to bed I kiss my loves goodnight then close my eyes to forget. Soon, a lucid dream, the room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene. Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind, the first thing I realize is taking a severe beating from someone in the middle of the night. Between the shocking fragments of cold fists ponding on my face I can see a man wearing a black hat causing harm upon me. While he’s laughing and punching simultaneously I manage to grab his throat with both hands and push him over to the left side where my wife sleeps at night. Grabbing the knife on the pedestal cupboard, not thinking twice, and I stab into his face until both eyes liquidize and facial bones collapse. Haphazardly in anxiety I maim his face extremely and still he’s laughing loudly. His clothes look rather old, a stench like dead things and a ragged captain’s coat. This dream is so ghastly and surreal. So many stabwounds, sixty, maybe more, his face simply shattered while blood decorates the floor. Then there is this sound like a snarling hound, I leave the room to look around. It guides me to my daughter’s room but her door is locked. I am terrified of what I might find behind. So quickly I climb the stairs to the old attic and find my double-barrelled shotgun. Ammunition, the weapon’s loaded, I need this nightmare to be done. Done! I break down the door forcefully, a vicious false dog is what I see, and still he’s laughing loudly. It’s not my child for this beast seems foul and wild. Two close ranged shots, still alive, brutally finished with the knife. Now guess who’s gargling closely behind me. I turn around and again I am just an inch away from that face I carved up previously, still laughing suddenly. Thank God, I am awake! Laying in my bed, covered in sweat, the horror I have seen was just an awful dream. Clouded is my sight, finding bloodstains on my hands as I rub my eyes. No, what have I done? My wife besides me, still alive but her face is simply gone. Beauty has been maimed by my hand, disfigured, our kiss will never be the same. Now where the fuck is my little girl? And a dead hound is not what I found, bloodstains on the wall, there’s my daughter’s corpse slaughtered on the ground! One last kiss upon my wife’s trembling hand before I shoot her through the head to set her free from this misery. Imagine the shotgun standing upside down with the barrel in my mouth. The sighting was a portent of doom and the consequence definitely macabre. And before my last tear hits the soil I... |
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4. | Van der Decken’s Triumph | 05:17 | Show lyrics |
"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company. We run a monopoly: spice trade, violence and slavery. "Full speed ahead!" he’s hollering as if he is mad. This ship is captained by a successful psychopath. Fearless, no conscience, the infamous Captain Van der Decken. So obsessed to be the best, nothing less, a crude master yet staunch refusing to back away from any kind of tumult. For mace, nutmeg, clove and cinnamon, for silk, porcelain, ivory and opium. Victoriously sails the V.O.C.! Through the foulest gales, along dangerous reefs and treacherous bays. Respect and obedience, under his command they felt challenged but safe. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. "Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." "Bring me the rum to celebrate the fortunes to come. Let us sing and drink on a rich and glorious time for we shall succeed just like this harmonious rhyme." |
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5. | Bloodstains on the Captain’s Log | 05:52 | Show lyrics |
Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now you hide your fears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to molest you. Catharina if you try to leave there will be grief. A wonderful house built for my wife to dwell, still nagging like one of my annoying men. Catharina! He defies the trust in marriage and God for there are bloodstains on the captain’s log. I stand for greed, lust and the willpower to defeat. The mask I wear is kind, with a distorted face underneath. I believe in bliss through violence andsuppression. Take, rob and rape, don’t let these filthy foreigners escape. On our pillage through the Indian seas, we sail heartless under the flag of piracy. Ravish and ruin their lives, execute theirchildren right before their eyes. My treasure chambers teeming with the riches I adore. I call it passion not a sin to kill for more and more. Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now hold your tears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to violate you. "Once he sailed the course of trade and righteousness. A stern yet stout, master of the sea. Now his soul drowns in condescension. His mind corrupted and martyred by greed. Bloodstains on the captain’s log!" |
|||
6. | Al betekent het mijn dood | 01:08 | Show lyrics |
This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves, a demonic tempest, my men complaining, I command: We set sail! "I beg you my captain! Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!" "What, your God? May he suffocate, may he rot!" Kept the bible close to me, his book of lies I shall now cast into the sea. "This is blasphemy!" "You hold your tongue or I’ll rip it out and have you hanged for mutiny!" "No, you cannot send us into madness, we shall not obey." With my knife I slowly penetrate his tender throat I curse in rage: "Godverdomme! Wij zullen vaeren! Al betekent het mijn dood!" |
|||
7. | Departure Towards a Nautical Curse | 05:39 | Show lyrics |
The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat and threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard. In defiance of the storm that kept them anchored for so long he swore an oath to forfeit right and wrong. Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape even if I have to sail until doomsday!" Their petrified facial expressions could tell their master was like a Devil on this floating piece of Hell. There, and then he gave the signal of departure. "Make sail and weigh the hook!", and so they left the harbor. Hear the Easter bells tolling through the roaring sound of a rough sea, accompanied by the sight of a ship sailing towards her destiny. What a spectacle of blasphemy, there was no rejoice after his mad choice! Sails were lost, decks were flooded and lightning turned their ship into a coal-black carcass. Anxiety replaced vainglory! The storm died down but a sinister shroud of darkness remained, for the daylight came no more. Floating in unending dusk, adrift on liquid ground. Months went by and land was never found. Food supplies putrefied and pestilence broke out! Suicide became routine, some chose suspension, others jumped and drowned. The dead were sown in hammocks and disposed of in the sea, buried in a watery grave after a short ceremony. The crew froze as he left his cabin with knife and gun, slaughtering what was left of them one by one. There was an evil murderous glimpse in his eyes and by the time he was done the ship was desecrated by death and demise. Van der Decken lashes himself to the wheel, swearing at Christ: "I shall not yield!" All at once a new storm rose and lightning struck. The top mast broke off, impaling him, a shard of the crest piercing his chest, in a standing position nailed to the deck. And so a man dies and a ghost resurrects! |
|||
8. | The Course of a Spectral Ship | 05:09 | Show lyrics |
Lots of tears, months became years, their mothers wept for many nights wondering if their sons died. Just when the grief became permissive and brief, tales of a ghost ship were spread, the same vessel where their brood found death. A craft made of mist, coursing in a timeless direction. This cadaverous sighting causing mayhem through reflection. These dark words are whispered in the local hangout of our port. Sailors and captains sketching a ship’s hull with a black shape aboard. Robust dauntless sea-dogs speak with a frightened tone in their voice: "Blue was the sky and the sun smiled at the crew then a storm came forth, moving swiftly from the north. Claps of thunder rumble, cold winds whining loud. A ghostly solstice weeping thick tears from its dreary clouds. As if these raindrops awoke something from its sleep, ticking on a liquid grave to evoke a devilish ship from the sea. The rise of a haunting in the form of a demon vessel. Now this black ship veered its bow! Changing her course, sailing straight into our direction. Anxious seamen screaming out loud: Search for protection! Right before it collides a dark figure was seen, standing on the prow with a black hound by his side. Surrounded by corpses, a sardonic smile and a sinister glance in his eyes. No movement, not one single tremor was felt on board. This spectral ship sailed straight through our vessel and our soul. The only thing we sensed was a bleak gust, a chill breeze, so cold." |
|||
9. | The Shining Was a Portent of Gloom | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle, sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle. The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter, clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" A ship made of mist like quicksilver thread, this skeleton vessel sings songs for the dead. To take a deep breath and set his mind back in motion, he stumbles upright and fumbles to the prow. His eyes now closed to hear his dear ocean, he feels the world has altered somehow. Deafening silence, the ocean seems gone, hardly a whisper nor notes of wind song. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" In a final attempt to end this bitter roam, he looks at the stars with their comforting glare. But the lights above that once guided him home, scattered and shattered, are no longer there. Now dawning upon him like rays of the sun, his state and his fate cannot be undone. The captain now trapped on this skeleton vessel, adrift on the void in a black floating castle. Chained to a twilight and bound to his boat, swearing his vengeance on others afloat. Lights at the end that have the world in their grip. He shall have his conquest as death came through a phantom ship! |
|||
10. | The Ghost of Raynham Hall (2011 Version) | 04:54 | Show lyrics |
Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace. There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen, wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam. Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably the consequence of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a shade called the brown lady. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham hall I shall guide us through it’s arcane past. It was a time of romance and wine, before the (vis) count Townshend, found out about his wife. High was the price. Her indidelity would be severely punished for life, Locked behind the walls at Raynham hall’s apartments. There’s where she remained, driven insane until death came. It was a shame, "Unfaithful salacious whore... you will never get away!" That’s why Dorithy died. After being held in this antiquated prison for life. Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death..., was said. Though many have told she’d broke her heart... then her neck! Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a brown brocade dress. It was the ghost of the brown lady, still seeking for ethereal rest. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham hall |
|||
11. | Ethereal Veiled Existence (2011 Version) | 05:25 | Show lyrics |
Ethereal Veiled Existence A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently arrived. There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the face of something dark still wandering this place. Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are the result of thieves and local smugglers. On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two friends and candlelight. All at once they froze...! Suddenly they confronted the cursed lady. She came forth like freezing winds from north. No ghastly dream... The brown countess existed for real. The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...! The bullet passed straight through the fearsome shade. Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not meant to fall. No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died. This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light. Carrying a lantern. Gliding past the walls where her soul became enthralled. Fear replaced... skepticism. At last the shade turned and grimned in a diabolical way. Right before... she vanished. |
|||
12. | Sepulchral Disequilibrium (2011 Version) | 03:32 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
57:38 |
Death Came Through a Phantom Ship
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 6), Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Songwriting |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion, Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (additional), Vocals (choirs) (track 6) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-5, 9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Photography, Design, Texture, Lyrics |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Electronic Voice Phenomena | 00:59 | Show lyrics |
"This is tugboat Grey Star,do you read me? Position 5412 north, 0524 east. This is tugboat Grey Star, please come in! I repeat: This is tugboat Grey Star, does anyone read me?" "Jij zult verzuipen in je eigen bloed!" |
|||
2. | The Sighting Is a Portent of Doom | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil. Cruising at thirteen knots on a pitch black sea, there’s a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see just an open dreary sea. Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship. No response ’till I receive transmissions of hostile nature. These voices cursing my goddamn name. Hell, is this witchcraft or am I insane? All of a sudden a dark silhouette ascends through ghostlike mist, while it comes closer I recognize the image of an old deserted ship. I am aghast at the sight of a derelict vessel sailing this awkward night, appearing like a black floating cadaver. There’s not one single man aboard, her torn sails cloaking her like a cobwebbed widow posing against this sad nightmarish horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped, gy great-grandfathers clock just ticking now stopped I am smothered by a sudden shroud of fear. For there’s a ghost ship upon a funereal quest with a black bird circling hypnotic around its rocking empty crow’s nest. Fortunately this atrocious mystery sets sail away from me! Some sailors claim other seamen beheld such sights, most died weird deaths during fog-clad days and nights. The ship vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Should I feel fear, was it even here? |
|||
3. | ...and the Consequence Macabre | 06:45 | Show lyrics |
He came home with trembling bone and spoke: "Evil roams the sea!" I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery. They must think I am weird, my wife and daughter upset by what they hear. As we go to bed I kiss my loves goodnight then close my eyes to forget. Soon, a lucid dream, the room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene. Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind, the first thing I realize is taking a severe beating from someone in the middle of the night. Between the shocking fragments of cold fists ponding on my face I can see a man wearing a black hat causing harm upon me. While he’s laughing and punching simultaneously I manage to grab his throat with both hands and push him over to the left side where my wife sleeps at night. Grabbing the knife on the pedestal cupboard, not thinking twice, and I stab into his face until both eyes liquidize and facial bones collapse. Haphazardly in anxiety I maim his face extremely and still he’s laughing loudly. His clothes look rather old, a stench like dead things and a ragged captain’s coat. This dream is so ghastly and surreal. So many stabwounds, sixty, maybe more, his face simply shattered while blood decorates the floor. Then there is this sound like a snarling hound, I leave the room to look around. It guides me to my daughter’s room but her door is locked. I am terrified of what I might find behind. So quickly I climb the stairs to the old attic and find my double-barrelled shotgun. Ammunition, the weapon’s loaded, I need this nightmare to be done. Done! I break down the door forcefully, a vicious false dog is what I see, and still he’s laughing loudly. It’s not my child for this beast seems foul and wild. Two close ranged shots, still alive, brutally finished with the knife. Now guess who’s gargling closely behind me. I turn around and again I am just an inch away from that face I carved up previously, still laughing suddenly. Thank God, I am awake! Laying in my bed, covered in sweat, the horror I have seen was just an awful dream. Clouded is my sight, finding bloodstains on my hands as I rub my eyes. No, what have I done? My wife besides me, still alive but her face is simply gone. Beauty has been maimed by my hand, disfigured, our kiss will never be the same. Now where the fuck is my little girl? And a dead hound is not what I found, bloodstains on the wall, there’s my daughter’s corpse slaughtered on the ground! One last kiss upon my wife’s trembling hand before I shoot her through the head to set her free from this misery. Imagine the shotgun standing upside down with the barrel in my mouth. The sighting was a portent of doom and the consequence definitely macabre. And before my last tear hits the soil I... |
|||
Side B | |||
4. | Van der Decken’s Triumph | 05:17 | Show lyrics |
"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company. We run a monopoly: spice trade, violence and slavery. "Full speed ahead!" he’s hollering as if he is mad. This ship is captained by a successful psychopath. Fearless, no conscience, the infamous Captain Van der Decken. So obsessed to be the best, nothing less, a crude master yet staunch refusing to back away from any kind of tumult. For mace, nutmeg, clove and cinnamon, for silk, porcelain, ivory and opium. Victoriously sails the V.O.C.! Through the foulest gales, along dangerous reefs and treacherous bays. Respect and obedience, under his command they felt challenged but safe. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. "Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." "Bring me the rum to celebrate the fortunes to come. Let us sing and drink on a rich and glorious time for we shall succeed just like this harmonious rhyme." |
|||
5. | Bloodstains on the Captain’s Log | 05:52 | Show lyrics |
Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now you hide your fears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to molest you. Catharina if you try to leave there will be grief. A wonderful house built for my wife to dwell, still nagging like one of my annoying men. Catharina! He defies the trust in marriage and God for there are bloodstains on the captain’s log. I stand for greed, lust and the willpower to defeat. The mask I wear is kind, with a distorted face underneath. I believe in bliss through violence andsuppression. Take, rob and rape, don’t let these filthy foreigners escape. On our pillage through the Indian seas, we sail heartless under the flag of piracy. Ravish and ruin their lives, execute theirchildren right before their eyes. My treasure chambers teeming with the riches I adore. I call it passion not a sin to kill for more and more. Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now hold your tears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to violate you. "Once he sailed the course of trade and righteousness. A stern yet stout, master of the sea. Now his soul drowns in condescension. His mind corrupted and martyred by greed. Bloodstains on the captain’s log!" |
|||
6. | Al betekent het mijn dood | 01:08 | Show lyrics |
This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves, a demonic tempest, my men complaining, I command: We set sail! "I beg you my captain! Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!" "What, your God? May he suffocate, may he rot!" Kept the bible close to me, his book of lies I shall now cast into the sea. "This is blasphemy!" "You hold your tongue or I’ll rip it out and have you hanged for mutiny!" "No, you cannot send us into madness, we shall not obey." With my knife I slowly penetrate his tender throat I curse in rage: "Godverdomme! Wij zullen vaeren! Al betekent het mijn dood!" |
|||
7. | Departure Towards a Nautical Curse | 05:39 | Show lyrics |
The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat and threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard. In defiance of the storm that kept them anchored for so long he swore an oath to forfeit right and wrong. Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape even if I have to sail until doomsday!" Their petrified facial expressions could tell their master was like a Devil on this floating piece of Hell. There, and then he gave the signal of departure. "Make sail and weigh the hook!", and so they left the harbor. Hear the Easter bells tolling through the roaring sound of a rough sea, accompanied by the sight of a ship sailing towards her destiny. What a spectacle of blasphemy, there was no rejoice after his mad choice! Sails were lost, decks were flooded and lightning turned their ship into a coal-black carcass. Anxiety replaced vainglory! The storm died down but a sinister shroud of darkness remained, for the daylight came no more. Floating in unending dusk, adrift on liquid ground. Months went by and land was never found. Food supplies putrefied and pestilence broke out! Suicide became routine, some chose suspension, others jumped and drowned. The dead were sown in hammocks and disposed of in the sea, buried in a watery grave after a short ceremony. The crew froze as he left his cabin with knife and gun, slaughtering what was left of them one by one. There was an evil murderous glimpse in his eyes and by the time he was done the ship was desecrated by death and demise. Van der Decken lashes himself to the wheel, swearing at Christ: "I shall not yield!" All at once a new storm rose and lightning struck. The top mast broke off, impaling him, a shard of the crest piercing his chest, in a standing position nailed to the deck. And so a man dies and a ghost resurrects! |
|||
29:49 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | The Course of a Spectral Ship | 05:09 | Show lyrics |
Lots of tears, months became years, their mothers wept for many nights wondering if their sons died. Just when the grief became permissive and brief, tales of a ghost ship were spread, the same vessel where their brood found death. A craft made of mist, coursing in a timeless direction. This cadaverous sighting causing mayhem through reflection. These dark words are whispered in the local hangout of our port. Sailors and captains sketching a ship’s hull with a black shape aboard. Robust dauntless sea-dogs speak with a frightened tone in their voice: "Blue was the sky and the sun smiled at the crew then a storm came forth, moving swiftly from the north. Claps of thunder rumble, cold winds whining loud. A ghostly solstice weeping thick tears from its dreary clouds. As if these raindrops awoke something from its sleep, ticking on a liquid grave to evoke a devilish ship from the sea. The rise of a haunting in the form of a demon vessel. Now this black ship veered its bow! Changing her course, sailing straight into our direction. Anxious seamen screaming out loud: Search for protection! Right before it collides a dark figure was seen, standing on the prow with a black hound by his side. Surrounded by corpses, a sardonic smile and a sinister glance in his eyes. No movement, not one single tremor was felt on board. This spectral ship sailed straight through our vessel and our soul. The only thing we sensed was a bleak gust, a chill breeze, so cold." |
|||
2. | The Shining Was a Portent of Gloom | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle, sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle. The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter, clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" A ship made of mist like quicksilver thread, this skeleton vessel sings songs for the dead. To take a deep breath and set his mind back in motion, he stumbles upright and fumbles to the prow. His eyes now closed to hear his dear ocean, he feels the world has altered somehow. Deafening silence, the ocean seems gone, hardly a whisper nor notes of wind song. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" In a final attempt to end this bitter roam, he looks at the stars with their comforting glare. But the lights above that once guided him home, scattered and shattered, are no longer there. Now dawning upon him like rays of the sun, his state and his fate cannot be undone. The captain now trapped on this skeleton vessel, adrift on the void in a black floating castle. Chained to a twilight and bound to his boat, swearing his vengeance on others afloat. Lights at the end that have the world in their grip. He shall have his conquest as death came through a phantom ship! |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | The Ghost of Raynham Hall (2011 Version) | 04:54 | Show lyrics |
Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace. There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen, wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam. Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably the consequence of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a shade called the brown lady. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham hall I shall guide us through it’s arcane past. It was a time of romance and wine, before the (vis) count Townshend, found out about his wife. High was the price. Her indidelity would be severely punished for life, Locked behind the walls at Raynham hall’s apartments. There’s where she remained, driven insane until death came. It was a shame, "Unfaithful salacious whore... you will never get away!" That’s why Dorithy died. After being held in this antiquated prison for life. Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death..., was said. Though many have told she’d broke her heart... then her neck! Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a brown brocade dress. It was the ghost of the brown lady, still seeking for ethereal rest. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham hall |
|||
4. | Ethereal Veiled Existence (2011 Version) | 05:25 | Show lyrics |
Ethereal Veiled Existence A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently arrived. There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the face of something dark still wandering this place. Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are the result of thieves and local smugglers. On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two friends and candlelight. All at once they froze...! Suddenly they confronted the cursed lady. She came forth like freezing winds from north. No ghastly dream... The brown countess existed for real. The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...! The bullet passed straight through the fearsome shade. Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not meant to fall. No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died. This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light. Carrying a lantern. Gliding past the walls where her soul became enthralled. Fear replaced... skepticism. At last the shade turned and grimned in a diabolical way. Right before... she vanished. |
|||
5. | Sepulchral Disequilibrium (2011 Version) | 03:32 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
27:49 |
Death Came Through a Phantom Ship
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 6), Vocals (choirs) (track 6), Songwriting |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion, Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars (additional), Vocals (choirs) (track 6) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-5, 9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Mixing, Producer |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Photography, Design, Texture, Lyrics |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Electronic Voice Phenomena | 00:59 | Show lyrics |
"This is tugboat Grey Star,do you read me? Position 5412 north, 0524 east. This is tugboat Grey Star, please come in! I repeat: This is tugboat Grey Star, does anyone read me?" "Jij zult verzuipen in je eigen bloed!" |
|||
2. | The Sighting Is a Portent of Doom | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil. Cruising at thirteen knots on a pitch black sea, there’s a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see just an open dreary sea. Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship. No response ’till I receive transmissions of hostile nature. These voices cursing my goddamn name. Hell, is this witchcraft or am I insane? All of a sudden a dark silhouette ascends through ghostlike mist, while it comes closer I recognize the image of an old deserted ship. I am aghast at the sight of a derelict vessel sailing this awkward night, appearing like a black floating cadaver. There’s not one single man aboard, her torn sails cloaking her like a cobwebbed widow posing against this sad nightmarish horizon. The temperature suddenly dropped, gy great-grandfathers clock just ticking now stopped I am smothered by a sudden shroud of fear. For there’s a ghost ship upon a funereal quest with a black bird circling hypnotic around its rocking empty crow’s nest. Fortunately this atrocious mystery sets sail away from me! Some sailors claim other seamen beheld such sights, most died weird deaths during fog-clad days and nights. The ship vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Should I feel fear, was it even here? |
|||
3. | ...and the Consequence Macabre | 06:45 | Show lyrics |
He came home with trembling bone and spoke: "Evil roams the sea!" I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery. They must think I am weird, my wife and daughter upset by what they hear. As we go to bed I kiss my loves goodnight then close my eyes to forget. Soon, a lucid dream, the room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene. Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind, the first thing I realize is taking a severe beating from someone in the middle of the night. Between the shocking fragments of cold fists ponding on my face I can see a man wearing a black hat causing harm upon me. While he’s laughing and punching simultaneously I manage to grab his throat with both hands and push him over to the left side where my wife sleeps at night. Grabbing the knife on the pedestal cupboard, not thinking twice, and I stab into his face until both eyes liquidize and facial bones collapse. Haphazardly in anxiety I maim his face extremely and still he’s laughing loudly. His clothes look rather old, a stench like dead things and a ragged captain’s coat. This dream is so ghastly and surreal. So many stabwounds, sixty, maybe more, his face simply shattered while blood decorates the floor. Then there is this sound like a snarling hound, I leave the room to look around. It guides me to my daughter’s room but her door is locked. I am terrified of what I might find behind. So quickly I climb the stairs to the old attic and find my double-barrelled shotgun. Ammunition, the weapon’s loaded, I need this nightmare to be done. Done! I break down the door forcefully, a vicious false dog is what I see, and still he’s laughing loudly. It’s not my child for this beast seems foul and wild. Two close ranged shots, still alive, brutally finished with the knife. Now guess who’s gargling closely behind me. I turn around and again I am just an inch away from that face I carved up previously, still laughing suddenly. Thank God, I am awake! Laying in my bed, covered in sweat, the horror I have seen was just an awful dream. Clouded is my sight, finding bloodstains on my hands as I rub my eyes. No, what have I done? My wife besides me, still alive but her face is simply gone. Beauty has been maimed by my hand, disfigured, our kiss will never be the same. Now where the fuck is my little girl? And a dead hound is not what I found, bloodstains on the wall, there’s my daughter’s corpse slaughtered on the ground! One last kiss upon my wife’s trembling hand before I shoot her through the head to set her free from this misery. Imagine the shotgun standing upside down with the barrel in my mouth. The sighting was a portent of doom and the consequence definitely macabre. And before my last tear hits the soil I... |
|||
Side B | |||
4. | Van der Decken’s Triumph | 05:17 | Show lyrics |
"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company. We run a monopoly: spice trade, violence and slavery. "Full speed ahead!" he’s hollering as if he is mad. This ship is captained by a successful psychopath. Fearless, no conscience, the infamous Captain Van der Decken. So obsessed to be the best, nothing less, a crude master yet staunch refusing to back away from any kind of tumult. For mace, nutmeg, clove and cinnamon, for silk, porcelain, ivory and opium. Victoriously sails the V.O.C.! Through the foulest gales, along dangerous reefs and treacherous bays. Respect and obedience, under his command they felt challenged but safe. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. Determination and greed is what he felt. Possessed and focused on profit and wealth. "Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails, work harder ye drunken snails for treasury like pepper as gold. Let this nautical voyage begin, We are powered by strong European winds." "Bring me the rum to celebrate the fortunes to come. Let us sing and drink on a rich and glorious time for we shall succeed just like this harmonious rhyme." |
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5. | Bloodstains on the Captain’s Log | 05:52 | Show lyrics |
Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now you hide your fears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to molest you. Catharina if you try to leave there will be grief. A wonderful house built for my wife to dwell, still nagging like one of my annoying men. Catharina! He defies the trust in marriage and God for there are bloodstains on the captain’s log. I stand for greed, lust and the willpower to defeat. The mask I wear is kind, with a distorted face underneath. I believe in bliss through violence andsuppression. Take, rob and rape, don’t let these filthy foreigners escape. On our pillage through the Indian seas, we sail heartless under the flag of piracy. Ravish and ruin their lives, execute theirchildren right before their eyes. My treasure chambers teeming with the riches I adore. I call it passion not a sin to kill for more and more. Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the opium pipe and drink a little more wine. I love you but not as much as my sea, ship and crew. What, now hold your tears lest it becomes your fault should I choose to violate you. "Once he sailed the course of trade and righteousness. A stern yet stout, master of the sea. Now his soul drowns in condescension. His mind corrupted and martyred by greed. Bloodstains on the captain’s log!" |
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6. | Al betekent het mijn dood | 01:08 | Show lyrics |
This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves, a demonic tempest, my men complaining, I command: We set sail! "I beg you my captain! Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!" "What, your God? May he suffocate, may he rot!" Kept the bible close to me, his book of lies I shall now cast into the sea. "This is blasphemy!" "You hold your tongue or I’ll rip it out and have you hanged for mutiny!" "No, you cannot send us into madness, we shall not obey." With my knife I slowly penetrate his tender throat I curse in rage: "Godverdomme! Wij zullen vaeren! Al betekent het mijn dood!" |
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7. | Departure Towards a Nautical Curse | 05:39 | Show lyrics |
The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat and threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard. In defiance of the storm that kept them anchored for so long he swore an oath to forfeit right and wrong. Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape even if I have to sail until doomsday!" Their petrified facial expressions could tell their master was like a Devil on this floating piece of Hell. There, and then he gave the signal of departure. "Make sail and weigh the hook!", and so they left the harbor. Hear the Easter bells tolling through the roaring sound of a rough sea, accompanied by the sight of a ship sailing towards her destiny. What a spectacle of blasphemy, there was no rejoice after his mad choice! Sails were lost, decks were flooded and lightning turned their ship into a coal-black carcass. Anxiety replaced vainglory! The storm died down but a sinister shroud of darkness remained, for the daylight came no more. Floating in unending dusk, adrift on liquid ground. Months went by and land was never found. Food supplies putrefied and pestilence broke out! Suicide became routine, some chose suspension, others jumped and drowned. The dead were sown in hammocks and disposed of in the sea, buried in a watery grave after a short ceremony. The crew froze as he left his cabin with knife and gun, slaughtering what was left of them one by one. There was an evil murderous glimpse in his eyes and by the time he was done the ship was desecrated by death and demise. Van der Decken lashes himself to the wheel, swearing at Christ: "I shall not yield!" All at once a new storm rose and lightning struck. The top mast broke off, impaling him, a shard of the crest piercing his chest, in a standing position nailed to the deck. And so a man dies and a ghost resurrects! |
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29:49 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | The Course of a Spectral Ship | 05:09 | Show lyrics |
Lots of tears, months became years, their mothers wept for many nights wondering if their sons died. Just when the grief became permissive and brief, tales of a ghost ship were spread, the same vessel where their brood found death. A craft made of mist, coursing in a timeless direction. This cadaverous sighting causing mayhem through reflection. These dark words are whispered in the local hangout of our port. Sailors and captains sketching a ship’s hull with a black shape aboard. Robust dauntless sea-dogs speak with a frightened tone in their voice: "Blue was the sky and the sun smiled at the crew then a storm came forth, moving swiftly from the north. Claps of thunder rumble, cold winds whining loud. A ghostly solstice weeping thick tears from its dreary clouds. As if these raindrops awoke something from its sleep, ticking on a liquid grave to evoke a devilish ship from the sea. The rise of a haunting in the form of a demon vessel. Now this black ship veered its bow! Changing her course, sailing straight into our direction. Anxious seamen screaming out loud: Search for protection! Right before it collides a dark figure was seen, standing on the prow with a black hound by his side. Surrounded by corpses, a sardonic smile and a sinister glance in his eyes. No movement, not one single tremor was felt on board. This spectral ship sailed straight through our vessel and our soul. The only thing we sensed was a bleak gust, a chill breeze, so cold." |
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2. | The Shining Was a Portent of Gloom | 08:49 | Show lyrics |
A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle, sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle. The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter, clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" A ship made of mist like quicksilver thread, this skeleton vessel sings songs for the dead. To take a deep breath and set his mind back in motion, he stumbles upright and fumbles to the prow. His eyes now closed to hear his dear ocean, he feels the world has altered somehow. Deafening silence, the ocean seems gone, hardly a whisper nor notes of wind song. "His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust! His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain! Riches to ashes, his tears lost in rain!" In a final attempt to end this bitter roam, he looks at the stars with their comforting glare. But the lights above that once guided him home, scattered and shattered, are no longer there. Now dawning upon him like rays of the sun, his state and his fate cannot be undone. The captain now trapped on this skeleton vessel, adrift on the void in a black floating castle. Chained to a twilight and bound to his boat, swearing his vengeance on others afloat. Lights at the end that have the world in their grip. He shall have his conquest as death came through a phantom ship! |
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Side B | |||
3. | The Ghost of Raynham Hall (2011 Version) | 04:54 | Show lyrics |
Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace. There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen, wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam. Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably the consequence of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a shade called the brown lady. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham hall I shall guide us through it’s arcane past. It was a time of romance and wine, before the (vis) count Townshend, found out about his wife. High was the price. Her indidelity would be severely punished for life, Locked behind the walls at Raynham hall’s apartments. There’s where she remained, driven insane until death came. It was a shame, "Unfaithful salacious whore... you will never get away!" That’s why Dorithy died. After being held in this antiquated prison for life. Sickness was the reason of her mysterious death..., was said. Though many have told she’d broke her heart... then her neck! Over the years dark tales have appeared of a shade in a brown brocade dress. It was the ghost of the brown lady, still seeking for ethereal rest. The ghost of Raynham The ghost of Raynham hall |
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4. | Ethereal Veiled Existence (2011 Version) | 05:25 | Show lyrics |
Ethereal Veiled Existence A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently arrived. There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the face of something dark still wandering this place. Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are the result of thieves and local smugglers. On this dreary night he went to sleep, guided be two friends and candlelight. All at once they froze...! Suddenly they confronted the cursed lady. She came forth like freezing winds from north. No ghastly dream... The brown countess existed for real. The armed captain pointed his gun and looses of a shot...! The bullet passed straight through the fearsome shade. Became lodged in the wall. This thing was not meant to fall. No single cry, no wounds no blood... It should have died. This unreal form dwells outside heavenly light. Carrying a lantern. Gliding past the walls where her soul became enthralled. Fear replaced... skepticism. At last the shade turned and grimned in a diabolical way. Right before... she vanished. |
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5. | Sepulchral Disequilibrium (2011 Version) | 03:32 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
27:49 |
Where the Corpses Sink Forever
Members | |
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Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics (tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 7-8), Lyrics (tracks 1, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars |
Philip Breuer | French spoken part (track 7) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 4, 9), Vocals (backing) (track 8) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Robin Schmidt | Mastering |
Patrick Damiani | Mixing, Producer, Recording |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design, Lyrics (tracks 1,9), Photography |
Tracks | |||
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1. | An Ominous Recording | 01:58 | Show lyrics |
"Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain. I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn’t reach them, instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..." |
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2. | Lingering in an Imprint Haunting | 05:04 | Show lyrics |
Kill! Here I walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. I can’t remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud where skies weep leaden tears and blood. It’s hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphurius mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed as if the Devil is in charge, giving orders from the dephts of the abyss. Goddamn, it’s coming hard, fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive, maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops, I turn, see no enemy, there’s nothing behind me. I can’t believe my eyes, I can’t believe what I see. A timeless frozen scenery where nature stands still except for me! So strange to see a still image of this infernal reality, staring at shrapnel and bullets with an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, I’m startled by a horrible screaming from behind. Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon walked into an ambush, he screamed: "Please kill me, Chralie’s coming soon!" My 1911 is too loud, that’s why I reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation, I cannot take his life! Goddamned fucking gooks, he’s captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified, in this Hell I’ll wait for you!" And right before I step on that mine I ask myself: "Did he just spoke the truth?" Briefly I comprehend, all this time I was damned. His grudge keeps me in Hell for eternity, every time I die he waits for me. This is my destiny! |
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3. | Bitte tötet mich | 05:03 | Show lyrics |
Another tale of tragedy he made the choice to end his life. So it is written passionately, this soldier’s fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war, one carrying so much death will soon care for life no more. On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry. "I can hear footsteps, someone’s coming near. Fuck, should I stay, disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund, dieser Soldat ist immer für mich da. Quickly I put my Luger away, I thought this was my last day but I failed!" "Bitte tötet mich, bitte töte mich!" On the second day he opened his eyes, consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day I die!" "I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife" So depressed, so empty, wandering hopeless, searching for death. Searching for death! His soul feels so old and so cold. The only desire left is his yearning for death. Yearning for death! He stumbled across an old farmstead and entered this wooden shack, there he found a rope and the guts to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot! The barn door flew open, this time he was caught by a farmer who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard, let me hang and die!" In this struggle the soldier went madafter the rope snapped. He pulled a knife and, nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed. "Bitte töte mich!" On the third day there was a fire fight, this bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves suicide. With open arms into the line of fire he asked for death. But then he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again, die for his own determined suicide. Here comes the part where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, kept alive in his Hell for two long years before he finally dies. |
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4. | The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist | 08:04 | Show lyrics |
Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by nature’s most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections from World War II. Arise 1941, ’42, the identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There’s one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin. His brilliant music so beautiful and pure, shining warmth upon every soldier, t helps them to endure. Breathtaking melodies consuming all hate, sorrows and fears. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears. But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near, rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead, music made of lead. "I’ve had enough of this sickening war and it’s murdering puppets! They don’t understand the language of music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life, maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" The enemy lies on the other side of the fields, he decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro for his own death. For his own death! And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end both sides simultaneously open fire. There’s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist, can’t you hear his call of death? Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. The funerary dirge of a violinist... |
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5. | Sir John | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
"Scalpel, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" Spleen uncovered brutally removed, so wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives, eating intestines to keep ourselves alive." "Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!" Half the village died, animals fled, plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death! "I won’t regret, doctor! Use your craft, now amputate my hand so I can eat!" Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive, lost all their dignity. "Forceps, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized his raid of death had come to an end. No living soul left for this hunger driven theft, killed them all! "But I must eat, just a little piece of me! Come to daddy, he must eat!" Twenty days almost starved to death in this forsaken place, found by soldiers who brought him back. He was safe! Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he arose. "Severe war traumas" he was told. "Mouth guard, strap, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts." He ate his own tongue, thick blood flows. "We are losing him!", heart fails. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within, this blood hunger grown to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized his raid of death had come to an end. |
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6. | Spectral Infantry Battalions | 02:04 | Show lyrics |
Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field once colored red from bloodshed. Where the sounds of war still can be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed. Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they’d once destroyed. Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination. This is the sound of death! Death, a military haunting! Death, battle formations, Death, still marching ahead! Death, battle formations Death... |
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7. | General Nightmare | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
Staring, screaming: "Bring my map!" with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l’Allemagne!". "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! "I have conquered!" "Murdered!" "I am your leader!" "No, you slaughtered us all!" "Déserteurs!" "We’ll infest your nightmares with our pain!" General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! Woken from delirium by the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean of blood and tears still fresh. "Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m’en fous de la populace!" Attack! Trembling, raging: "Bring my map" with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign, General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, pour l’éternité! |
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8. | Little Hector, What Have You Done? | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Hector was nine, in school, making colorful drawings most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad draw pictures so sad? Hector was asked to explain, he replied: "It’s me and daddy in the attic, hanging when we are dead." Cold and dead... Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away! When he came home he found his daddy’s revolver. Now it’s time to play. While father slept his son blew his brains all over the bed then he went upstairs to the attic, there the kid shot himself through the head. Cold and dead... Mother came home and saw her husband, mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze, after the funerals she took an overdose. It is the house, it is the house. Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned, bewitched, touched by the Devil’s hand. Haunted, the house is bitter and sad and bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad! Once upon a time during the war the Nazis came and breached down this door. "Aufstehen, hinsehen", the men had to stand and see how their women got raped so brutally, so hard. Cold and dead... Father resisted and for that he was taken upstairs after his boy, with his hands tied to his back and another rope around his neck. They made him stand upon the shoulders of his own dear son, unfortunately the child could not hold his daddy that long. For several days he sat amongst his ravished and executed family, eventually he knotted a rope out of his own bed-sheets and hung himself next to daddy. |
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9. | These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes) | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
There he lies, haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions. "Where am I, did I just die?" No one in sight, scanning his surroundings for where they might lie. The prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky. He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can’t comprehend what he has seen. The wet earth trembles and war winds howl like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see, I cannot take this!" These fields are lurking as black hail falls like ashen blades, these fields are closing in to bury him with frozen spades. On bitter taste of blood he gags, dragging on with broken legs to break loose from the horrid stench of burning lives and burning flags. With elbows through the mud he drags himself forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must, I will!" The wind lies down and the earth stands still, black hail fire stings no more. "Dear Lord above, did I escape that hellish place of gore?" He ends up where it all began! Seven pair of demon eyes, seven fearsome demon smiles. Trapped in a paranormal chain bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain. So ends this tale of fates aligned! A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots that won’t unwind, this ominous recording is all that’s left behind: "Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain..." |
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43:09 |
Where the Corpses Sink Forever
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics (tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 7-8), Lyrics (tracks 1, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars |
Philip Breuer | French spoken part (track 7) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 4, 9), Vocals (backing) (track 8) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Mixing, Producer, Recording |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design, Lyrics (tracks 1,9), Photography |
Robin Schmidt | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
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1. | An Ominous Recording | 01:58 | Show lyrics |
"Sunday, October third. 6 p.m. rain... I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn’t reach them. Instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..." |
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2. | Lingering in an Imprint Haunting | 05:04 | Show lyrics |
Kill! Here I walk down this godless trench, where the corpses sink forever, into shallow marshy grounds. I can’t remember confronting, these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud, where skies weep, leaden tears and blood. It’s hard to breathe within this, thick cloak of sulphurous mist. Conjuring slaughtering soldiers, into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield, no soul can be dismissed. As if the Devil’s in charge, givin orders from the dephts of the abyss. Goddamn, it’s coming hard! Fire fight and waves of bombardments, blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive, maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops, I turn and see no enemy. There’s nothing behind me! I can’t believe my eyes, I can’t believe what I see. A timeless frozen scenery, where nature stands still! Except for me! So strange to see a still image, of this infernal reality. Staring at shrapnel and bullets, on an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, I’m startled by a horrible screaming from behind. Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon, walked into an ambush. He screamed: "Please kill me! Chralie’s coming soon!" My 1911 is too loud, that’s why I reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation! I cannot take his life! Goddamned fucking gooks! He’s captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified! In this Hell I’ll wait for you!" And right before I step on that mine I ask myself: "Did he just speak the truth?" Briefly I comprehend, all this time I was damned. His grudge keeps me in Hell for eternity. Every time I die he waits for me. This is my destiny! |
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3. | Bitte tötet mich | 05:03 | Show lyrics |
Another tale of tragedy, he made the choice to end his life. So it is written passionately, this soldier’s fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder, by the horrors of war. One carrying so much death, will soon care for life no more. On the first day, the soldier would quietly retreat, to shoot himself through the head, not far from his infantry. "I can hear footsteps, someone’s coming near. Fuck, Should I stay or disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund. Dieser soldat ist immer für mich da." "Quickly I put my Luger away. I thought this was my last day but I failed! Bitte tötet mich, bitte töte mich!" On the second day he opened his eyes. Consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day I die. I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife." So depressed, so empty! Wandering hopeless, searching for death. His soul feels so old and so cold, the only desire left is his yearning for death. He stumbled across an old farmstead, and entered this wooden shack. There he found a rope and the guts, to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot, the barn door flew open. This time he was caught by a farmer, who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard, let me hang and die!" In this struggle the soldier went mad! After the rope was snapped, he pulled a knife, and nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed. "Bitte tötet mich!" On the third day there was a fire fight, this bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves for suicide! With open arms into the line of fire, he asked for death! But then he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again. Die for his own determined suicide. Here comes the part, where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, kept alive in his Hell for two long years, before he finally died. |
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4. | The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist | 08:04 | Show lyrics |
Listen! Don’t you hear these mad symphonies, of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair, can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted, by nature’s most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing, the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted, by reflections from World War II! Arise, 1941, ’42... The identity of warfare, on the East Front is lugubrious. There’s one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades, thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin. His brilliant music so beautiful and pure, shining warmth upon every soldier. It helps them to endure. Breath taking melodies consuming all hate, sorrows and fears. These magnificent tunes are, like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears! But this moment will not last, when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near! Rain of bullets, killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace, is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead, music made of lead. "I’ve had enough of this sickening war, and it’s murdering puppets! They don’t understand, the language of music, cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life, maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music! Shall I cut my wrists, or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" The enemy lies on the other side of the field, he decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard, during an intro for his own death. And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end, both sides simultaneously open fire. There’s the corpse of the violinist, lying in mud and barbed wire. These fields are haunted, by the funerary dirge of a violinist. The funerary dirge of a violinist, can’t you hear his call of death? Listen! Don’t you hear these mad symphonies, of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair, can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. The funerary dirge of a violinist... |
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5. | Sir John | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
"Scalpel, Clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" Spleen uncovered, brutally removed. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up, so he survives. Eating intestines, to keep ourselves alive." "Thirteen days starving to death, since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest, stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!" Half the village died, animals fled. Plague lurking like, a ticking time bomb. The stench of death! "I won’t regret, doctor! Use your craft! Now amputate my hand so I can eat!" Forced beyond sanity, they kept themselves alive. Lost all their dignity! "Forceps, Clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized, his raid of death had come to an end. No living soul left, for his hunger driven theft. Killed them all! "But I must eat, just a little piece of me! Come to daddy, he must eat!" Twenty days almost starved to death, in this forsaken place. Found by soldiers who brought him back, he was safe! Comatose, little did he know, what horrors slowly crawled upon him, once he arose. "Severe war traumas", he was told. "Mouth guard, strap, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts." He ate his own tongue, thick blood flows. "We are losing him!", heart fails. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. This blood hunger grown, to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized, his raid of death had come to an end. |
|||
6. | Spectral Infantry Battalions | 02:04 | Show lyrics |
Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition, keeps rising from a field, once colored red from bloodshed. Where the sounds of war, can still be heard, and the balance of nature, is seriously disturbed. Spectral infantry battalions, marching through a freezing timeless void. Again, ghostly cavalry regiments, shall ride the lands they’d once destroyed. Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching, unto an endless destination. This is the sound of death! A military haunting! Battle formations, still marching ahead! Battle formations, Death, Death, Death! |
|||
7. | General Nightmare | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
Staring, screaming: "Bring my map!", with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l’Allemagne!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! I have conquered! "Murdered!" I am your leader! "No! You slaughtered us all!" Déserteurs! "We’ll infest, your nightmares with our pain!" General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors, of the ones condemned to death. Screaming women, children... Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! Woken from delirium, the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean, of blood and tears still fresh. "Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m’en fous de la populace!" Attack! General Nightmare! General Nightmare! General Nightmare! General Nightmare! Trembling, raging: "Bring my map", with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! General Nightmare! General Nightmare! General Nightmare! General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors, of the ones condemned to death. Screaming women, children... Tourmentés, brûlés, tués! He dreamt the horrors, of the ones condemned to death. Screaming women, children... Tourmentés, pour l’éternité! |
|||
8. | Little Hector, What Have You Done? | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Hector was nine in school! Making colorful drawings, most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait, of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad, draw pictures so sad? Hector was asked to explain. He replied: "It’s me and daddy in the attic, hanging when we are dead." Cold and dead... Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away! When he came home, he found his daddy’s revolver. Now it’s time to play! While father slept, his son blew his brains all over the bed. Then he went upstairs to the attic. There the kid shot himself through the head. Cold and dead... Mother came home and saw her husband. Mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze, after the funerals she took an overdose. It is the house! It is the house! Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned. Bewitched! Touched by the Devil’s hand. Haunted! The house is bitter and sad. Bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad. Once upon a time during the war, the Nazis came and breached down this door. "Aufstehen!" The men had to stand and see. "Hinsehen!" How their women got raped so brutally, so hard... Cold and dead... Father resisted and for that, he was taken upstairs after his boy. With his hands tied to his back, and another rope around his neck. They made him stand upon the shoulders, of his own dear son. Unfortunately the child, could not hold his daddy that long. For several days he sat amongst, his ravished and executed family. Eventually he knotted a rope, out of his own bed-sheets, and hung himself next to daddy. |
|||
9. | These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes) | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
There he lies! Haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past, of these seven apparitions. "Where am I?, did I just die?" No one in sight! Scanning his surroundings, for where they might lie. The Prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes, pierce a blood red sky. He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can’t comprehend what he has seen. The wet earth trembles and war winds howl, like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see! I cannot take this!" These fields are lurking, as black hail falls like ashen blades. These fields are closing in, to bury him with frozen spades. On bitter taste of blood he gags. Dragging on with broken legs, to break loose from the horrid stench, of burning lives and burning flags. With elbows through the mud, he drags himself forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must, I will!" The wind lies down and the earth stands still. Black hail fire stings no more. Dear Lord above, did I escape, that hellish place of gore? He ends up where it all began. Seven pair of demon eyes, seven fearsome demon smiles. Trapped in a paranormal chain. Bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain. So ends this tale of fates aligned. A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots, that won’t unwind. This ominous recording, is all that’s left behind: "Sunday, October third, 6 p.m. rain..." |
|||
43:09 |
Where the Corpses Sink Forever
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics (tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 7-8), Lyrics (tracks 1, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars |
Philip Breuer | French spoken part (track 7) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 4, 9), Vocals (backing) (track 8) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Mixing, Producer, Recording |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design, Lyrics (tracks 1,9), Photography |
Robin Schmidt | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | An Ominous Recording | 01:58 | Show lyrics |
"Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain. I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn’t reach them, instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..." |
|||
2. | Lingering in an Imprint Haunting | 05:04 | Show lyrics |
Kill! Here I walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. I can’t remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud where skies weep leaden tears and blood. It’s hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphurius mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed as if the Devil is in charge, giving orders from the dephts of the abyss. Goddamn, it’s coming hard, fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive, maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops, I turn, see no enemy, there’s nothing behind me. I can’t believe my eyes, I can’t believe what I see. A timeless frozen scenery where nature stands still except for me! So strange to see a still image of this infernal reality, staring at shrapnel and bullets with an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, I’m startled by a horrible screaming from behind. Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon walked into an ambush, he screamed: "Please kill me, Chralie’s coming soon!" My 1911 is too loud, that’s why I reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation, I cannot take his life! Goddamned fucking gooks, he’s captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified, in this Hell I’ll wait for you!" And right before I step on that mine I ask myself: "Did he just spoke the truth?" Briefly I comprehend, all this time I was damned. His grudge keeps me in Hell for eternity, every time I die he waits for me. This is my destiny! |
|||
3. | Bitte tötet mich | 05:03 | Show lyrics |
Another tale of tragedy he made the choice to end his life. So it is written passionately, this soldier’s fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war, one carrying so much death will soon care for life no more. On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry. "I can hear footsteps, someone’s coming near. Fuck, should I stay, disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund, dieser Soldat ist immer für mich da. Quickly I put my Luger away, I thought this was my last day but I failed!" "Bitte tötet mich, bitte töte mich!" On the second day he opened his eyes, consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day I die!" "I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife" So depressed, so empty, wandering hopeless, searching for death. Searching for death! His soul feels so old and so cold. The only desire left is his yearning for death. Yearning for death! He stumbled across an old farmstead and entered this wooden shack, there he found a rope and the guts to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot! The barn door flew open, this time he was caught by a farmer who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard, let me hang and die!" In this struggle the soldier went madafter the rope snapped. He pulled a knife and, nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed. "Bitte töte mich!" On the third day there was a fire fight, this bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves suicide. With open arms into the line of fire he asked for death. But then he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again, die for his own determined suicide. Here comes the part where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, kept alive in his Hell for two long years before he finally dies. |
|||
4. | The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist | 08:04 | Show lyrics |
Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by nature’s most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections from World War II. Arise 1941, ’42, the identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There’s one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin. His brilliant music so beautiful and pure, shining warmth upon every soldier, t helps them to endure. Breathtaking melodies consuming all hate, sorrows and fears. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears. But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near, rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead, music made of lead. "I’ve had enough of this sickening war and it’s murdering puppets! They don’t understand the language of music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life, maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" The enemy lies on the other side of the fields, he decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro for his own death. For his own death! And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end both sides simultaneously open fire. There’s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist, can’t you hear his call of death? Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. The funerary dirge of a violinist... |
|||
Side B | |||
5. | Sir John | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
"Scalpel, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" Spleen uncovered brutally removed, so wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives, eating intestines to keep ourselves alive." "Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!" Half the village died, animals fled, plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death! "I won’t regret, doctor! Use your craft, now amputate my hand so I can eat!" Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive, lost all their dignity. "Forceps, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized his raid of death had come to an end. No living soul left for this hunger driven theft, killed them all! "But I must eat, just a little piece of me! Come to daddy, he must eat!" Twenty days almost starved to death in this forsaken place, found by soldiers who brought him back. He was safe! Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he arose. "Severe war traumas" he was told. "Mouth guard, strap, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts." He ate his own tongue, thick blood flows. "We are losing him!", heart fails. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within, this blood hunger grown to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized his raid of death had come to an end. |
|||
6. | Spectral Infantry Battalions | 02:04 | Show lyrics |
Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field once colored red from bloodshed. Where the sounds of war still can be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed. Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they’d once destroyed. Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination. This is the sound of death! Death, a military haunting! Death, battle formations, Death, still marching ahead! Death, battle formations Death... |
|||
7. | General Nightmare | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
Staring, screaming: "Bring my map!" with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l’Allemagne!". "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! "I have conquered!" "Murdered!" "I am your leader!" "No, you slaughtered us all!" "Déserteurs!" "We’ll infest your nightmares with our pain!" General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! Woken from delirium by the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean of blood and tears still fresh. "Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m’en fous de la populace!" Attack! Trembling, raging: "Bring my map" with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign, General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, pour l’éternité! |
|||
8. | Little Hector, What Have You Done? | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Hector was nine, in school, making colorful drawings most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad draw pictures so sad? Hector was asked to explain, he replied: "It’s me and daddy in the attic, hanging when we are dead." Cold and dead... Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away! When he came home he found his daddy’s revolver. Now it’s time to play. While father slept his son blew his brains all over the bed then he went upstairs to the attic, there the kid shot himself through the head. Cold and dead... Mother came home and saw her husband, mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze, after the funerals she took an overdose. It is the house, it is the house. Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned, bewitched, touched by the Devil’s hand. Haunted, the house is bitter and sad and bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad! Once upon a time during the war the Nazis came and breached down this door. "Aufstehen, hinsehen", the men had to stand and see how their women got raped so brutally, so hard. Cold and dead... Father resisted and for that he was taken upstairs after his boy, with his hands tied to his back and another rope around his neck. They made him stand upon the shoulders of his own dear son, unfortunately the child could not hold his daddy that long. For several days he sat amongst his ravished and executed family, eventually he knotted a rope out of his own bed-sheets and hung himself next to daddy. |
|||
9. | These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes) | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
There he lies, haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions. "Where am I, did I just die?" No one in sight, scanning his surroundings for where they might lie. The prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky. He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can’t comprehend what he has seen. The wet earth trembles and war winds howl like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see, I cannot take this!" These fields are lurking as black hail falls like ashen blades, these fields are closing in to bury him with frozen spades. On bitter taste of blood he gags, dragging on with broken legs to break loose from the horrid stench of burning lives and burning flags. With elbows through the mud he drags himself forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must, I will!" The wind lies down and the earth stands still, black hail fire stings no more. "Dear Lord above, did I escape that hellish place of gore?" He ends up where it all began! Seven pair of demon eyes, seven fearsome demon smiles. Trapped in a paranormal chain bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain. So ends this tale of fates aligned! A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots that won’t unwind, this ominous recording is all that’s left behind: "Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain..." |
|||
43:09 |
Where the Corpses Sink Forever
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics (tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 7-8), Lyrics (tracks 1, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars |
Philip Breuer | French spoken part (track 7) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 4, 9), Vocals (backing) (track 8) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Mixing, Producer, Recording |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design, Lyrics (tracks 1,9), Photography |
Robin Schmidt | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | An Ominous Recording | 01:58 | Show lyrics |
"Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain. I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn’t reach them, instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..." |
|||
2. | Lingering in an Imprint Haunting | 05:04 | Show lyrics |
Kill! Here I walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. I can’t remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud where skies weep leaden tears and blood. It’s hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphurius mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed as if the Devil is in charge, giving orders from the dephts of the abyss. Goddamn, it’s coming hard, fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive, maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops, I turn, see no enemy, there’s nothing behind me. I can’t believe my eyes, I can’t believe what I see. A timeless frozen scenery where nature stands still except for me! So strange to see a still image of this infernal reality, staring at shrapnel and bullets with an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, I’m startled by a horrible screaming from behind. Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon walked into an ambush, he screamed: "Please kill me, Chralie’s coming soon!" My 1911 is too loud, that’s why I reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation, I cannot take his life! Goddamned fucking gooks, he’s captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified, in this Hell I’ll wait for you!" And right before I step on that mine I ask myself: "Did he just spoke the truth?" Briefly I comprehend, all this time I was damned. His grudge keeps me in Hell for eternity, every time I die he waits for me. This is my destiny! |
|||
3. | Bitte tötet mich | 05:03 | Show lyrics |
Another tale of tragedy he made the choice to end his life. So it is written passionately, this soldier’s fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war, one carrying so much death will soon care for life no more. On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry. "I can hear footsteps, someone’s coming near. Fuck, should I stay, disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund, dieser Soldat ist immer für mich da. Quickly I put my Luger away, I thought this was my last day but I failed!" "Bitte tötet mich, bitte töte mich!" On the second day he opened his eyes, consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day I die!" "I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife" So depressed, so empty, wandering hopeless, searching for death. Searching for death! His soul feels so old and so cold. The only desire left is his yearning for death. Yearning for death! He stumbled across an old farmstead and entered this wooden shack, there he found a rope and the guts to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot! The barn door flew open, this time he was caught by a farmer who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard, let me hang and die!" In this struggle the soldier went madafter the rope snapped. He pulled a knife and, nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed. "Bitte töte mich!" On the third day there was a fire fight, this bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves suicide. With open arms into the line of fire he asked for death. But then he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again, die for his own determined suicide. Here comes the part where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, kept alive in his Hell for two long years before he finally dies. |
|||
4. | The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist | 08:04 | Show lyrics |
Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by nature’s most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections from World War II. Arise 1941, ’42, the identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There’s one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin. His brilliant music so beautiful and pure, shining warmth upon every soldier, t helps them to endure. Breathtaking melodies consuming all hate, sorrows and fears. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears. But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near, rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead, music made of lead. "I’ve had enough of this sickening war and it’s murdering puppets! They don’t understand the language of music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life, maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" The enemy lies on the other side of the fields, he decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro for his own death. For his own death! And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end both sides simultaneously open fire. There’s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist, can’t you hear his call of death? Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. The funerary dirge of a violinist... |
|||
5. | Sir John | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
"Scalpel, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" Spleen uncovered brutally removed, so wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives, eating intestines to keep ourselves alive." "Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!" Half the village died, animals fled, plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death! "I won’t regret, doctor! Use your craft, now amputate my hand so I can eat!" Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive, lost all their dignity. "Forceps, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized his raid of death had come to an end. No living soul left for this hunger driven theft, killed them all! "But I must eat, just a little piece of me! Come to daddy, he must eat!" Twenty days almost starved to death in this forsaken place, found by soldiers who brought him back. He was safe! Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he arose. "Severe war traumas" he was told. "Mouth guard, strap, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts." He ate his own tongue, thick blood flows. "We are losing him!", heart fails. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within, this blood hunger grown to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized his raid of death had come to an end. |
|||
6. | Spectral Infantry Battalions | 02:04 | Show lyrics |
Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field once colored red from bloodshed. Where the sounds of war still can be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed. Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they’d once destroyed. Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination. This is the sound of death! Death, a military haunting! Death, battle formations, Death, still marching ahead! Death, battle formations Death... |
|||
7. | General Nightmare | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
Staring, screaming: "Bring my map!" with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l’Allemagne!". "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! "I have conquered!" "Murdered!" "I am your leader!" "No, you slaughtered us all!" "Déserteurs!" "We’ll infest your nightmares with our pain!" General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! Woken from delirium by the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean of blood and tears still fresh. "Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m’en fous de la populace!" Attack! Trembling, raging: "Bring my map" with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign, General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, pour l’éternité! |
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8. | Little Hector, What Have You Done? | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Hector was nine, in school, making colorful drawings most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad draw pictures so sad? Hector was asked to explain, he replied: "It’s me and daddy in the attic, hanging when we are dead." Cold and dead... Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away! When he came home he found his daddy’s revolver. Now it’s time to play. While father slept his son blew his brains all over the bed then he went upstairs to the attic, there the kid shot himself through the head. Cold and dead... Mother came home and saw her husband, mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze, after the funerals she took an overdose. It is the house, it is the house. Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned, bewitched, touched by the Devil’s hand. Haunted, the house is bitter and sad and bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad! Once upon a time during the war the Nazis came and breached down this door. "Aufstehen, hinsehen", the men had to stand and see how their women got raped so brutally, so hard. Cold and dead... Father resisted and for that he was taken upstairs after his boy, with his hands tied to his back and another rope around his neck. They made him stand upon the shoulders of his own dear son, unfortunately the child could not hold his daddy that long. For several days he sat amongst his ravished and executed family, eventually he knotted a rope out of his own bed-sheets and hung himself next to daddy. |
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9. | These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes) | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
There he lies, haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions. "Where am I, did I just die?" No one in sight, scanning his surroundings for where they might lie. The prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky. He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can’t comprehend what he has seen. The wet earth trembles and war winds howl like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see, I cannot take this!" These fields are lurking as black hail falls like ashen blades, these fields are closing in to bury him with frozen spades. On bitter taste of blood he gags, dragging on with broken legs to break loose from the horrid stench of burning lives and burning flags. With elbows through the mud he drags himself forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must, I will!" The wind lies down and the earth stands still, black hail fire stings no more. "Dear Lord above, did I escape that hellish place of gore?" He ends up where it all began! Seven pair of demon eyes, seven fearsome demon smiles. Trapped in a paranormal chain bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain. So ends this tale of fates aligned! A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots that won’t unwind, this ominous recording is all that’s left behind: "Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain..." |
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43:09 |
Where the Corpses Sink Forever
Members | |
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Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics (tracks 2, 3, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (tracks 1, 7-8), Lyrics (tracks 1, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars |
Philip Breuer | French spoken part (track 7) |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 4, 9), Vocals (backing) (track 8) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Mixing, Producer, Recording |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design, Lyrics (tracks 1,9), Photography |
Robin Schmidt | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
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Side A | |||
1. | An Ominous Recording | 01:58 | Show lyrics |
"Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain. I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn’t reach them, instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..." |
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2. | Lingering in an Imprint Haunting | 05:04 | Show lyrics |
Kill! Here I walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. I can’t remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud where skies weep leaden tears and blood. It’s hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphurius mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed as if the Devil is in charge, giving orders from the dephts of the abyss. Goddamn, it’s coming hard, fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive, maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops, I turn, see no enemy, there’s nothing behind me. I can’t believe my eyes, I can’t believe what I see. A timeless frozen scenery where nature stands still except for me! So strange to see a still image of this infernal reality, staring at shrapnel and bullets with an incomplete journey. When suicide burdens my mind, I’m startled by a horrible screaming from behind. Luring me to a spot where a friend of my platoon walked into an ambush, he screamed: "Please kill me, Chralie’s coming soon!" My 1911 is too loud, that’s why I reach for the knife. Then, again, hesitation, I cannot take his life! Goddamned fucking gooks, he’s captured by the enemy. Dragged away for days of torture, screaming these last words at me: "You son of a whore should be terrified, in this Hell I’ll wait for you!" And right before I step on that mine I ask myself: "Did he just spoke the truth?" Briefly I comprehend, all this time I was damned. His grudge keeps me in Hell for eternity, every time I die he waits for me. This is my destiny! |
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3. | Bitte tötet mich | 05:03 | Show lyrics |
Another tale of tragedy he made the choice to end his life. So it is written passionately, this soldier’s fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war, one carrying so much death will soon care for life no more. On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry. "I can hear footsteps, someone’s coming near. Fuck, should I stay, disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund, dieser Soldat ist immer für mich da. Quickly I put my Luger away, I thought this was my last day but I failed!" "Bitte tötet mich, bitte töte mich!" On the second day he opened his eyes, consumed by sadness he thought: "Today is the day I die!" "I will take my life with the rope, a bullet or maybe the knife" So depressed, so empty, wandering hopeless, searching for death. Searching for death! His soul feels so old and so cold. The only desire left is his yearning for death. Yearning for death! He stumbled across an old farmstead and entered this wooden shack, there he found a rope and the guts to jump and hang with a broken neck. The second he tightened the slipknot! The barn door flew open, this time he was caught by a farmer who grabbed his legs to lift and hold him high. The soldier kicking and screaming: "You bastard, let me hang and die!" In this struggle the soldier went madafter the rope snapped. He pulled a knife and, nine times in the stomach, the farmer was stabbed. "Bitte töte mich!" On the third day there was a fire fight, this bloody assault would last until midnight. Another opportunity for our soldier who craves suicide. With open arms into the line of fire he asked for death. But then he watched his friend, who is trying to prevent him from killing himself again, die for his own determined suicide. Here comes the part where he sticks the Luger into his mouth. He was shot twice in the spine from behind, then blows half his face all over the ground. Not dead yet but completely fucking paralyzed, kept alive in his Hell for two long years before he finally dies. |
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4. | The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist | 08:04 | Show lyrics |
Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by nature’s most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections from World War II. Arise 1941, ’42, the identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. There’s one soldier incapable of committing sin. Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift with a violin. His brilliant music so beautiful and pure, shining warmth upon every soldier, t helps them to endure. Breathtaking melodies consuming all hate, sorrows and fears. These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. And for a moment their pain disappears. But this moment will not last when they are baffled by another blast. The enemy is near, rain of bullets killing soldiers there and here. And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. It plays the music of the dead, music made of lead. "I’ve had enough of this sickening war and it’s murdering puppets! They don’t understand the language of music cannot be spoken in death. I never took a life, maybe now is the time to take mine. In the name of music shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" The enemy lies on the other side of the fields, he decides to walk straight into the fire fight, playing this dreamlike masterpiece. Every soldier stops, holds his breath. Not a single shot is being heard during an intro for his own death. For his own death! And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end both sides simultaneously open fire. There’s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist, can’t you hear his call of death? Listen, don’t you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and of fear? Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. The funerary dirge of a violinist... |
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Side B | |||
5. | Sir John | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
"Scalpel, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" Spleen uncovered brutally removed, so wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives, eating intestines to keep ourselves alive." "Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!" Half the village died, animals fled, plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death! "I won’t regret, doctor! Use your craft, now amputate my hand so I can eat!" Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive, lost all their dignity. "Forceps, clamps, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts! Cut through his skin, thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!" More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on. Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied. Soon he realized his raid of death had come to an end. No living soul left for this hunger driven theft, killed them all! "But I must eat, just a little piece of me! Come to daddy, he must eat!" Twenty days almost starved to death in this forsaken place, found by soldiers who brought him back. He was safe! Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he arose. "Severe war traumas" he was told. "Mouth guard, strap, pull him to the ground. No innocent hands, every second counts." He ate his own tongue, thick blood flows. "We are losing him!", heart fails. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within, this blood hunger grown to be a part of him. Never satisfied, in his last moment realized his raid of death had come to an end. |
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6. | Spectral Infantry Battalions | 02:04 | Show lyrics |
Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field once colored red from bloodshed. Where the sounds of war still can be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed. Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they’d once destroyed. Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination. This is the sound of death! Death, a military haunting! Death, battle formations, Death, still marching ahead! Death, battle formations Death... |
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7. | General Nightmare | 04:19 | Show lyrics |
Staring, screaming: "Bring my map!" with clenched fists. "Colonel, Attaquez l’Allemagne!". "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign! "I have conquered!" "Murdered!" "I am your leader!" "No, you slaughtered us all!" "Déserteurs!" "We’ll infest your nightmares with our pain!" General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! Woken from delirium by the stench of burning flesh. Wading through an ocean of blood and tears still fresh. "Suis-je fou? Mais je reste puissant! Je m’en fous de la populace!" Attack! Trembling, raging: "Bring my map" with clenched fists. "My orders: Attack! Attack!" "Tous nos hommes, sans aucun remords!" This storm of sacrifice will reign, General Nightmare! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, brûlés, violés, tués! He dreamt the horrors of the ones condemned to death, screaming women, children. Tourmentés, pour l’éternité! |
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8. | Little Hector, What Have You Done? | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Hector was nine, in school, making colorful drawings most of his time. One day he made this horrible portrait of a dead man and his child. The teacher was shocked! How could such a young lad draw pictures so sad? Hector was asked to explain, he replied: "It’s me and daddy in the attic, hanging when we are dead." Cold and dead... Later that day, the boy left school early. Hector ran away! When he came home he found his daddy’s revolver. Now it’s time to play. While father slept his son blew his brains all over the bed then he went upstairs to the attic, there the kid shot himself through the head. Cold and dead... Mother came home and saw her husband, mother came home and saw her son. Her soul collapsed and her heart froze, after the funerals she took an overdose. It is the house, it is the house. Haunted! The house is cursed, the house is damned, bewitched, touched by the Devil’s hand. Haunted, the house is bitter and sad and bewitched! It somehow drove little Hector mad! Once upon a time during the war the Nazis came and breached down this door. "Aufstehen, hinsehen", the men had to stand and see how their women got raped so brutally, so hard. Cold and dead... Father resisted and for that he was taken upstairs after his boy, with his hands tied to his back and another rope around his neck. They made him stand upon the shoulders of his own dear son, unfortunately the child could not hold his daddy that long. For several days he sat amongst his ravished and executed family, eventually he knotted a rope out of his own bed-sheets and hung himself next to daddy. |
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9. | These Fields Are Lurking (Seven Pairs of Demon Eyes) | 07:15 | Show lyrics |
There he lies, haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions. "Where am I, did I just die?" No one in sight, scanning his surroundings for where they might lie. The prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky. He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can’t comprehend what he has seen. The wet earth trembles and war winds howl like Wehrmacht-wolves on hungry prowl. "These fields are more than I can see, I cannot take this!" These fields are lurking as black hail falls like ashen blades, these fields are closing in to bury him with frozen spades. On bitter taste of blood he gags, dragging on with broken legs to break loose from the horrid stench of burning lives and burning flags. With elbows through the mud he drags himself forward! "I shall escape this plot. I must, I will!" The wind lies down and the earth stands still, black hail fire stings no more. "Dear Lord above, did I escape that hellish place of gore?" He ends up where it all began! Seven pair of demon eyes, seven fearsome demon smiles. Trapped in a paranormal chain bound to suffer endless warfare, torture, fear and pain. So ends this tale of fates aligned! A prophecy of war entwined into bloody knots that won’t unwind, this ominous recording is all that’s left behind: "Sunday, October third, 6 p.m., rain..." |
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43:09 |
This Is No Fairytale
Members | |
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Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
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3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
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4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
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5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
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6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
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7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
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8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
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9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
|||
44:13 |
This Is No Fairytale
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
|||
3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
|||
4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
|||
5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
|||
6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
|||
7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
|||
8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
|||
9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
|||
10. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden (Orchestral Version) | 02:33 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
46:46 |
This Is No Fairytale
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
|||
3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
|||
4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
|||
Side B | |||
5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
|||
6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
|||
7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
|||
8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
|||
9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
|||
44:13 |
This Is No Fairytale
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
|||
3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
|||
4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
|||
5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
|||
6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
|||
7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
|||
8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
|||
9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
|||
44:13 |
This Is No Fairytale
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
|||
3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
|||
4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
|||
Side B | |||
5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
|||
6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
|||
7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
|||
8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
|||
9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
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44:13 |
This Is No Fairytale
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Lyrics, Songwriting |
Ardek | Keyboards, Orchestrations, Violin (track 3), Songwriting |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3, 9) |
Patrick Damiani | Bass, Guitars, Orchestrations (track 3) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Pedro Ortiz IV | Consulting (font, layout) |
Erik Wijnands | Artwork, Design |
Patrick Damiani | Recording, Producer |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Tracks | |||
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Side A | |||
1. | Once upon a Time | 01:36 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | There’s No Place like Home | 04:32 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time there stood a house of ill fame, a drug property associated with violence and crime. There lived a family in despair sorrow and tragedy. Father was a drinker and a goddamn fiend, a sadistic motherfucker who could not keep his hands off his own kin. His soul was meant for the Devil, it was rotten from within after all these years of sin. Mother was a skeleton whore! Fucked up on heroin, wine and pills, whatever she could score. More... Her black circled eyes were simply empty, her body was bruised and scarred, life was hard. If her sick alcoholic husband had a temper he would beat up his wife. One time he took a knife and stabbed her twice. No, not deep enough for she survived! Once their marriage, an enchantment of love and trust. Hopes and dreams, became nightmares of shame, abuse and disgust. Assault, assault, domestic violence! Family battery, rape, violence, violence! Assault, assault! Abuse, abuse, domestic violence! Assault, assault! Once upon a time they were blessed with two children, a boy and a girl, now by the age of twelve and nine. Traumatized and neglected in a household of blood, tears and wine! This night father became completely insane, the children awoke by a horrible tumult. From downstairs sounds of screaming, breaking glass and the throwing of chairs. But the children fell asleep again, and the girl had a disturbing dream: A stifling feeling of a hand covering her mouth and a smell of alcohol all around. She doesn’t understand and cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream end? Finally she is able to breathe! But when her bastard father shut the door behind him she realized: This nightmare was no dream! No dream! |
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3. | When Crows Tick on Windows | 06:15 | Show lyrics |
Three quite calm nights went by, merely the silence before a new tempest arrived but all Hell breaks loose on night four! The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother with his leather belt while she falls to the floor. The fear and tension is rising by the day! The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake by having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape. Tick-tack, it’s time to go! For there’s a crow, tick-tack, ticking on her window. She has no explanation why she has a terrible feeling that someone is going to die. Next morning they leave everything behind, they bring some clothes water and bread. They run with fear but without hesitation and regret, without looking back. Darkness has fallen, two children are afraid and lost in the night. They walk on an old road when a car appears and they’re too slow to hide. Goddamn, he found them... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, he’s cursing, pounding, screaming, throws his son into the car and hits his little daughter so hard. "Tell me the truth, I know this was you. But no more, little whore, I’ll punish you like I’ve never done before!" Goddamn... His eyes glow like those of Satan himself, they get beaten, locked up and mistreated. There’s no place like home, no place like home. And she opens her eyes after another brutal night. Weeping winds whining hopeless tones and there’s no sunshine. It’s still dark outside, the living room is trashed. There are bloodstains and pieces of glass everywhere. Father still passed out on the couch, where’s mother and why is there water dripping down the stairs? She walks up the staircase and sees her little brother holding on to the doorpost of the bathroom as if he had just seen a ghost. His body is frozen, eyes wide open! He does not react to her voice, what’s wrong? A tear rolls over his pale face, and then the sight of their dead mother floating in light red water flowing from the bathtub. She had left the water faucet open, taken an overdose of pills and slit both her wrists. No she is dead, she is dead, mother is dead! No! No Mama, why? Mother, goodbye. Mommy why? Mother, goodbye. When crows tick on windows! |
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4. | Two Flies Flew into a Black Sugar Cobweb | 07:49 | Show lyrics |
They have to go! Get out of the house, get out of the house, leave right now! They need help but no soul seems to be around. Ghastly are the calls of some black crows shrieking outside as if these creatures sense the fact that someone inside just died. Traumatized and shocked with trembling hands the girl grabs a piece of pie, a bottle of water, a knife for protection and throws all that in a plastic bag. Run! The monster is still asleep, and his two children run fast while they weep. Driven by an intense anxiety, the second escape to safety. They will never forget such a devastating sight. The image of their mother’s successful suicide. They definitely learnt the hard way from their mistake, there’s another path through the woods they now will take. The children are tired and afraid, they went astray from the only path. They are lost in the depths of the woods, the dark is getting thicker and thicker. Oh come little brother, we must seek shelter now. We will wait until the next day, at dawn we will find the way. Thank God, daylight! It was a most frightening and dreary night. The sun smiles friendly down upon this place, it lightens a path out of this maze. The forest is now behind them and the city has been found, though their attention gets drawn to a small weatherworn playground. Hungry, thirsty, such an exhausting journey. Catching their breaths on a scratched bench. Next to a rusty slide there hangs a filthy stench, they hear a squeaking sound and someone suddenly begins to sing. A man dressed up as a clown singing songs on the swing! His face seems friendly but also kind of sick. And, ta-da, he makes their sorrows shortly disappear by performing a magic trick. "Oh children, there is a house built of gingerbread,covered with cakes and a thousand sweets. It is mine, follow me, you will see, you can eat, you’ll be warm, you’ll be just fine." He conjures up two candies, they look sweet but are somehow tasteless. They become drowsy in the back of the car, and then they lose their consciousness. They lose their consciousness! "Children, there is no house built of a gingerbread ahead. My sweetest lies all lead towards a bitter place instead. But one thing, I promise you, is true: No one will ever find you!" |
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Side B | |||
5. | Dreaming of a Nightmare in Eden | 02:37 | Show lyrics |
Neither white pebble-stones nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail for them to be led along crooked old trees, looking like twisted shapes of the dead. Then they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It flew away and they followed it until it alighted on the roof of a little house. Constructed of gingerbread and confectionary. So heavenly they began to eat then a soft voice cried from the parlour: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw, is it a mouse nibbling at my little house?" And the children answered: "It’s the wind, the Heaven-born wind", and went on eating without disturbing themselves. It was as if the house moved and in that moment the little white bird on the rooftop made a horrible shriek, instead a black crow flew away over the trees. Gretel dropped the cake she held, she fell down on her knees, began to cough up blood and threw up her delicious meal. She couldn’t breathe, chocking and chewing on the guts, spewing from her mouth. Also Gretel bled from eyes and her ears and her nose, she was bleeding like a pig until she dropped dead. The skies turned red instantly while the candy cottage transformed into a huge festering ulcer. The stench of old blood and black pus! Sugar and cake turned into decomposed flesh crawling with flies, maggots and snakes. This process of decay seemed quickly to spread, it crawled over life and left it for dead. Hansel took a few steps back, he decided to turn around, to run away and then he looked straight into the face of a witch. She whispered a spell crafted in Hell: "Nibble, nibble, gnaw! Hansel, I will eat your lifeless flesh still warm but raw!" |
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6. | Possessed by a Craft of Witchery | 06:10 | Show lyrics |
Abducted by another freak of society, two little pigs are snatched by the wolf in this stone-cold reality. Tempted by the serpent in disguise, poisoned by forbidden sweets in a promised paradise built on lies. They are taken, their hands tied to their backs, their mouths taped shut. They awake in a concrete chamber. stones instead of gingerbread, two flies flew into a black sugar cobweb. By the scum of our own kind this treacherous web has been spun. Numbed by fear they wait for an aggressive hungry spider to appear. Too late to run away, they have been misled. No rooftop made of cake, no walls built of bread. Not even a glimpse of light is reaching inside, neither from the sunnor from the moon. For there are no windows of clear sugar built in this dreary room. Thoughts of milk, pancakes with treacle and warm beds draped with silk. A delicious promise has been broken and the intention behind is of a malicious kind. This is no fairytale house surrounded by caramel flowers in a chocolate garden of confectionary trees. This is the residence of a deranged psychopath who truly believes to be possessed by a craft of witchery. He kills children in the name of a witch, a demonic voice compels him to wander as a friendly clown, searching in every town until fresh victims are found. The voice of the witch spits venomous words in his head, it can only be silenced when the infants are dead. Her ghost slithers like black fog down the chimney at night and only he can see this tormenting parasite. Dragging the children from the cellar into a room equipped for ritual sacrifice, the walls are blotched with religious symbols to glorify an infernal paradise. He locks the girl up in an iron cage to witness her young brother’s death, now she will hear all his screams until he draws his last breath. The serial killer shackles the boy to the floor upon the sign of the witch, the children scream: "No more!" "Shut the fuck up, I will now take his precious little life." Whispering unholy rhymes while holding a black-hilted knife. And he stabs like a maniac because the witch gave permission to mutilate the child beyond recognition. |
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7. | Killed and Served by the Devil | 04:09 | Show lyrics |
He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death, he keeps slashing and slicing even after his last breath. Ill-fated Gods are given praise whilst stabbing the infant’s torso, limbs and face. Gaping wounds, gushing blood and gore covering the pentacle on the floor. No way to die at that age, slaughtered before his sister’s eyes staring from the cage. Relieved for the witch’s voice now whispers and laughs, the killer leaves the room but comes back with an axe. He chops up the corpse, tosses his body parts into plastic bags. Drags them to the garden outside to be buried in an unmarked grave on this night. The poor girl who has lost her mother is now forced to bury what’s left of her dismembered brother. A macabre funeral in a sepulchral garden, buried next to the others in the backyard of Death himself. Exchanging the shovel for a bucket and a rag, She has never seen such a terrible bloodbath before. Bone fragments and viscous clots of human gruel, she’s forced to clean the lugubrious mess off the floor. Asking the murderer what will happen with her life, he answers: "You will serve me as my slave until your inevitable sacrifice for the witch’s wish and will is my command to kill." It’s dinnertime in the residence of this psychopath. A fine meal of beans, bread, meat and some wine. Fortunately no empty stomach for the rest of the day then the killer has something special to say: "I saved your brother’s most valuable part, before the burial I cut out his precious little heart. Swallowing the souls of the victims, their hearts are what I eat. Your brother’s soul has now been devoured, so tell me did you like the meat?" |
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8. | The Witch Perished in Flames | 05:46 | Show lyrics |
She blacks out when that question is asked by this vile animal, nearly suffocating on her vomit in front of the gloating cannibal. She awakes in the cage, something has changed. Instead of fear her heart is filled with rage. Her existence now balancing on the edge of a knife, as long as the voice keeps whispering she will stay alive. She is seriously considering suicide. There is no doubt, to kill herself is the only way out. "I will be butchered and buried like my brother. I’d rather cut my wrist just like my mother." Powered by a hatred she has never experienced before, she consumes fear and despair until she cares for suicide no more. And so the embittered girl, starts thinking of ways to shove this monster into the oven. "I will not die as his slave, I’d rather die fighting, scared but brave." All the doors and windows in this satanic abattoir are barricaded. But hey, there is one way, a damn small chance to escape. The front door can be unlocked with a key which is attached to the black baton that the killer carries constantly to beat up his slave repeatedly. One night when dinner time arrives, as always the killer puts the baton on the table sitting comfortably, devouring his meal voraciously. He speaks: "Come here, have no fear. Pour me some wine, you’ll be just fine." That’s when she thinks: "This moment is mine!" Nervously walking toward him holding the fork behind her back and whilst pouring the wine she uses all her strength to stab that fork deep into his neck. She smashes the bottle on his head, yet before she can grab the key he pulls everything off the table right before he hits the floor. A broken kerosene lantern, leaking fuel causes a fire that quickly spreads through the room. She picks up the key from the floor, rushes to the front door. The killer drags himself forward, gargling on his own blood. "Come back you fucking whore!" She smiles and locks the door. She’s running through the woods finally free, but distracted by the screams of the burning witch she runs hard straight into a tree. |
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9. | Tragedy Ever After | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
She opens her eyes, her face is covered in blood. She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees in this abysmal dream. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone tell me this place wherein I dwell. Where does it reside between Heaven and Hell, am I dead?" "Am I dead?" But her questions merely echo away into nothingness. There are voices calling her name from the blackest corners of this phantasmal void. "Gretel, join us, join us, join us in death." Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways, no mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place. Under a toxic blood red sky ghostly clouds quickly passing by. "Please can someone set me free! I’m being held in a nightmare, I’m kept in purgatory!" Finally she stumbles on this trail made of candy like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread, consuming them one by one. She hopes this trail of delicacies leads towards a better place ahead. But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness. It reeks of burned flesh, then the trail suddenly ends. There’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows, it just entered purgatory because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality. The spectral corpse of the clown is heavily burned, her brother’s murderer has returned. A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold of her. She cannot move and she cannot defend herself. When will this suffocating dream finally end? The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol. And when her bastard father shuts the door behind him she realizes: "It was just a dream." The real nightmare continues in reality. There’s no place like home... |
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44:13 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Members | |
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Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
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2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
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3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
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4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
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5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
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6. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
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7. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
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8. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
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9. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
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41:17 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
|||
2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
|||
3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
|||
4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
|||
5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
|||
6. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
|||
7. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
|||
8. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
|||
9. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
|||
10. | Charles Francis Coghlan (Orchestral Version) | 06:06 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
47:23 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
|||
2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
|||
3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
|||
Side B | |||
4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
|||
5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
|||
21:45 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
|||
2. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
|||
4. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
|||
19:32 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
|||
2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
|||
3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
|||
4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
|||
5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
|||
Side B | |||
6. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
|||
7. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
|||
8. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
|||
9. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
|||
41:17 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
|||
2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
|||
3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
|||
4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
|||
5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
|||
6. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
|||
7. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
|||
8. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
|||
9. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
|||
10. | Charles Francis Coghlan (Orchestral) | 06:06 | instrumental |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
47:23 |
Dance and Laugh Amongst the Rotten
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Namtar | Drums, Effects |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 2, 4, 6, 8), Songwriting (tracks 2-9) |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing) (track 1), Lyrics (tracks 3, 5, 7, 9), Songwriting (tracks 5-9) |
Guest/Session | |
Patrick Damiani | Guitars, Bass |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 3-9) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Peter Tägtgren | Mixing, Recording (drums) |
Jonas Kjellgren | Mastering |
Erik Wijnands | Photography, Lyrics (consultation) |
Costin Chioreanu | Artwork, Design |
Sylvy Notermans | Lyrics (proofreading) |
Patrick Damiani | Engineering (guitars) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Opening | 02:17 | Show lyrics |
(Instrumental) Phantasm inhabiting this clogged haze bring laughter and carnage. Kaleidoscopic, baleful, omnipresent Xenomorph. |
|||
2. | Charlie | 04:10 | Show lyrics |
Ouija, ouja, are you there, are you there, is there a presence among us? Dark is the memory I set out to forget, we used an oracle board to contact the dead. Beyond boredom and reason we asked the name of the entity. The glass suddenly moved, spelling out "Charlie". Why are you here? What do you want? "Protect you!" How do you wish to protect me? Charlie, are you a member of the family? "No, I am a friend!" Fun and excitement turned into fear and disbelief, it gave answers to questions no soul knows but me. We moved the glass planchette to say our goodbye, it moved the pointer to "no" so we asked Charlie why. From that moment the atmosphere began to change. Kind answers became evasive, dark and strange. Threatening the spirit: "Behave, in the name of the Lord!" Bone-chilling messages came forth from the talking board. "Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, go fuck your God, fuck your God!" D.I.E. spelled out repeatedly, it threatened my family with death. The glass shattered, releasing a stench of decay. We failed to perform a portal closing spell and panicked we ran away! Something is watching me! It’s a shadow, it is following me. Why are you here? What do you want? "Destroy you!" Charlie wants to kill me, Charlie is not a friend. |
|||
3. | Blood Queen | 04:55 | Show lyrics |
Fifteen-hundred-thirty-six! Her age has come, the crown affixed. Her only wish is to conceive whilst burning those that shun belief. Countless years of blood thirst and hundreds sacrificed, all hanged, quartered, cauterised, the queen’s still longing to give birth. Endless years of madness! Death-fatigue, the cruel intrigue is the despair and the sadness of a royal womb still fruitless. Blood Queen... Like a beggar ’fore the altar, it seems the Lord has eased her plight. Yet miscarriage still comes swiftly like a thief in ’midst of night. Ascending her stairs backwards, clutching a mirror and candle. "Show me my future and show me what’s mine", and the mirror shows her a new-born child. She reaches for the infant so sweet but the mirror cracks and its eyes start to bleed. A thick mist descends suddenly down the stairs. She drops the ghastly mirror, screaming in despair. Blood Queen! A shape appears in the mist and throws her to the floor. The child now floating in the air, she screams: "No more!" The eyeless child then reaches out, she grabs its little arm, but a surge of mist pulls her back, the sudden force breaks the infant’s neck. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. Blood Queen, Blood Queen, she comes through the mirrors. |
|||
Side B | |||
4. | Charles Francis Coghlan | 06:07 | Show lyrics |
A blackness comes forth, thick clouds from the North. A serene cemetery atmosphere transforms into one of melancholy and drear. The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead. Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead. And ‘midst the silence before that storm the beginning of this peculiar tale is born. Ravished by infernal winds, hail and rain, a storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane. Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea, into a maritime eternity. Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842. A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough. Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America. His charisma would put a spell on you. Talented, handsome and eccentric, a rising star reaching far. Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny and most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea yet one coffin keeps floating steadily. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Breathtaking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow and rage. He collapsed to the floor, and when his applause died down he truly died on stage. Charles was no more! Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide. Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of sight, until there’s no more light. Corroded by maritime salts, submerged into the ocean’s cold. Sinking away from the circling sharks, pulled down into the dark. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star, reaching far. Charles Francis Coghlan, rising star reaching far in death. "Taken by the wave from its texan grave, Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast. Until 7 years later after the storm had abated the casket was found, washed ashore on Canadian ground. We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed and true artists will always perform until their very last breath even within the cold and timeless theatres of death." |
|||
5. | Song for the Dead | 04:16 | Show lyrics |
I sing a song to the dead from my heart profoundly sad. Forlorn I cling to everything that is them, by betraying their peace I keep death in asylum. Song for the dead... I touch their eyes, harvest their ruin and wrap it in mine to try to see them. I can’t let them go, this day in decay until death do us part, that’s what they all say. Song for the dead... I wear their clothes so warm and tight. You think it’s wrong, I know I’m right because even their hair, so soft and fine, once draping their skull now looks good on mine. Song for the dead... All good things must come to an end, empty words when Death is your friend. I’m living this endless lucid dream, in the land of the dead I’m King Libertine. Never buried, neither forgotten, I dance and laugh amongst the rotten. And when my kingdom will meet its maker one song will silence the undertaker. |
|||
21:45 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | In de naam van de duivel | 06:29 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper. For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember. He knew of a bond that flamed fiercer than fire. Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre. So he summoned a witch before his black throne, demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone. The smirking old Witch was instantly sold by his promise of rewards both in flesh and gold. In de naam van de duivel... And so the witch set forth on her insidious quest, stalking the house of the blessed. Kisses at sunrise, leaving for work, a sign for the witch to approach the house with that same evil smirk. “I came to warn you immediately of misfortune and adultery, in my dark prophetic dreams I saw you!” She opened the door for the Devil’s Whore. Who was disguised as an old lady, kind and wise. In de naam van de duivel! “Your husband shall leave you forever, do as I say and you will stay together. While your love is asleep cut off a lock of his hair, bring it to me and I’ll cast a spell to prevent your despair.” So the witch twists her tongue, reversing the tale. She told her husband before, to be on his guard: “During night when the owls are still and the moon looks pale your wife will stab you with a knife in the heart!” Those twisted words, poisonous like a snake, he could not believe but still they kept him awake. So he lies there awake in the dark of the night when a flicker of steel catches his sight! Overwhelmed by pure rage and disbelief he tears the knife from her hand and slits her throat in his grief. In de naam van de duivel... At ease on his throne and pleased with his whore for hell is free of love once more. In de naam van de duivel! For hell is free of love once more. |
|||
2. | Pitch Black Box | 03:17 | Show lyrics |
Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. A black cursed casket carved from wood by the Devil’s hand filled with relics, left by the dead this box is damned. “Thou shalt not open!”, engraved in blood above the lock. Yet countless mortals have heard the dead from inside knock. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. I thrust the skeletal key inside, turn six times left then three times right. O’ pitch black box, show me what you hide and grant me the treasures from beyond the light. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, consume us all, feed on our souls. Pitch black box, Death unlocks, kill them all, feed on their souls. |
|||
Side B | |||
3. | The Possession Process | 04:27 | Show lyrics |
Followed by footsteps, whispers, scratching and faint voices. Startled by slamming doors, knocking and otherworldly noises. I can sense that something’s wrong, a feeling of being watched. There’s no soul here but me and this witchery. I can smell the scent of Death, the feeling of being touched. This is my home and I am not alone! White noise and black shapes dance in the corners of my eyes. Flickering lights and electronic equipment and the perfume of decay attracts to the flies. Haunted! All senses increased and intensified, the shadows twitch and distort, I’m weak and terrified. I doubt I’m insane yet something’s calling my name from the crevices and corners tonight. “No one seems to believe my story, not friends nor family. They think I’m fucking crazy!” I don’t enjoy this life as before, I never leave this house anymore. Scratches, bruises and cuts mark my skin, my own self now a monument to unspeakable sin. That which haunted me has taken control, corrupted my senses and poisoned my soul. No foul medication or feeble priest, my God is silenced, my possession’s complete. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a malevolent source. Breached by evil, my body now possessed by a demonic force. Breached by evil, my soul ripped apart in a torturous place. Breached by evil, a black hellraising angel wearing my face... |
|||
4. | Three Times Thunder Strikes | 05:19 | Show lyrics |
Scrambling for matches, determined to burn it to ashes, she threw the Ouija board to the flames and kneeled to pray. “I wish I never ever, ever listened to my friends who had said it would be fun to play. Now the one that follows me, a predator, and me its new prey!” Cloaked by a shroud of darkness resurrecting forces she could never ever understand, that seemingly innocent game, now chanting! “Charlie, Charlie’s not a friend!” No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. A visceral rumble shakes the house to its core, and jagged cracks cut through walls and the floor. Three times thunder strikes, a blinding bright white. Shattering windows inverting the night. Between the chaos, now spread throughout. She desperately cries out loud: “I beg of you Charlie, release me from this! Unchain me from the depths of the abyss!" No sleep, no peace but fear, forever caged in a ghostly sphere. Unblessed by a violent host, possessed by a virulent ghost. One month ago she uncovered an artefact, a strange casket like an alien tesseract. “Thou shalt not open!”, inscribed in blood where it locks. Yet in her ignorance she opened this pitch black box. Unleashing Charlie, a force vengeful and strong. Did you open the box before hearing this song? |
|||
19:32 |
Franckensteina Strataemontanus
Members | |
---|---|
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing), Guitars, Bass |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 5, 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Robert Carranza | Mastering, Mixing |
Stefan Heilemann | Cover art |
Patrick Damiani | Recording (drums, guitars, bass) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Here in German Woodland | 01:35 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a golden day Of flutter and laughter And warm sunshine rays frolicking in forests In the afternoon glow His hands playfully sifting through sand Here in German woodland Soon, innocence grew terribly ill His gaze showing traces of parasitic ill will The start of a tale that is about to unfold Singing of woe, of rot and of mould |
|||
2. | Scourged Ghoul Undead | 05:38 | Show lyrics |
Little white coffin lowered into the ground Parents screaming, desperate - profound The clock struck twelve and the family went home Little did they know what horrors were about to come Days of sorrow passed by Tears outweighing stone Feeling all alone Their beloved son, now cold - bound underground There is no day without grief; Death! You remorseless thief! Bring back our son! Countless thoughts and prayers only met by more nightmares! All defied in denial of Death... He comes back in their dreams at night To wake them, reminding that he died Black cats scratching at the white memorial plaque Their howling increasingly echoes forth and back Coffin-flies dig in and worms voraciously devour A crack of lightning striking into the chapel’s tower Thumping, throbbing, pounding, sounding from inside That which should be dead slipped away this very night In disarray and ruin his little grave was found As if he crept out of a blanket made of burial ground It was an unreal sight How the boy walked back home that night Risen from a sepulchral abyss Dragging forth in rigor mortis Mother kneeled in disbelief For she could not conceive The return of her son Her grief undone Her nightmare had just begun... Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! It was a sickening scene Mother uttered one more scream She was thirstily bitten in the neck Her blood absorbed in rotten crud Tears bathed her eyes in utter grief Her heart collapsed in disbelief From the womb to the tomb and back again Once a son of light now a creature in the night Grunting, moaning, groaning and gnawing off her face Eaten alive in her dear son’s embrace Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes The return of the dead |
|||
3. | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | 03:03 | Show lyrics |
Galvanism and alchemy, science to some, witchery to others Wine will come from water and gold from stone Concocting potions from animal flesh and bone The perfume of death is my sweetest cologne Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus “I made him with these hands” “He’s just resting, waiting… for a new life to come” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” Death-magic and forbidden sorcery Into the occult and science became necromancy A pact with Mephistopheles My stirring in the dark Echoed throughout the abyss “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!“ Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus |
|||
4. | The Necromancer | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Clothed in drapes worn by those from the grave The head of the corpse pointing towards the rising sun The scent of mandrake, hemlock and opium Reciting incantations, the ceremony has begun Anatomy, exploring the flesh of the human body Alchemy, the quest for transmutation and immortality I can hear the howling of wolves, the hissing of snakes As I call upon forbidden gods, shadows twist in demonic shapes I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head The monster was built just like the devil said Scientist, physician, sorcerer, magician Raising the dead was always my ambition Built from the body parts of the victims I killed A soul given by Satan, more blood shall be spilled I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, a torso, two legs and a head. The monster was built just like the devil said Alle meine Experimente sind misslungen seit der Entdeckung der schwarze Kunst Inject the bone oil. Pull the lever. Live! Live! It twitched!... It’s alive! Prometheus arise! My son, breathe open your black eyes. It’s alive Prometheus arise! My son, breathe and open your black eyes. It’s alive I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head My monster is alive, risen from the dead |
|||
5. | Sewn for Solitude | 03:52 | Show lyrics |
The pale moon lit a ragged passage ahead Through crepuscular forests a creature fled The scattered caws of pitch black crows Their eyes reflecting jagged lightning as loud thunder roars I creep through shadows of skeletal trees With a heavy heart I defy all elements Alas! This rueful being has fallen astray I’m torn by vengeance but I want to turn away Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have you done? What havoc did you bring upon? Master! See the creature I’ve become Monster to many, friend to none I have been hiding here since that tragic day Seen as a miserable wraith, they chased me away A being so cursed, yet torn and immersed; in flesh not my own - all alone! From rotten parts accrued Sewn for solitude Abandoned - rejected Spat out - abused - neglected I will have revenge! For you have created me! The spark of my inception is the flame of your destruction You will crawl to your downfall Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have I done? What havoc did I bring upon? Master! See the creature I have become Monster to many, friend to none Master! |
|||
6. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
Operation Compass was well underway Scorching sun Coarse sand A horned desert viper slithers through dust Howling winds Burning eyes World War II under British Command In Egyptian no-man’s land A silence of the snakes Before the battle erupts Oil Oil Oil Oil Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet! Push forth the Mark VI Light! Attack! Bleak tanks rumble, bleached bones crumble Fresh cannon fodder, brutally slaughtered Filthy caked crusts of flesh and blood garnish the banks The onslaught prevails The desert of death As the last man standing falls to his knees Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance, like shadows cast a spell And black oil erupting like a fountain from hell Like a Fata Morgana, a face appears in the geyser of oil Red demonic eyes looking down on him Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand Blue lunar wasteland The fallen soldiers rise to their feet Ghastly winds Death’s stare No man’s war The undead soar Uttering monstrous roars A pack of Death closing He screams and tries to dig himself in Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin He won the battle, but not the war |
|||
7. | Monster | 03:33 | Show lyrics |
It’s not enough to be monstered by you look Disfigured, maimed, malformed, or crooked Those wicked, wretched, and mangled from within They deserve the title for the filthy rotten sins Monster Monster I’m a monster A sick, perverted psychopath Evil, hideous, an ill-natured maniac I won’t exactly scare you from underneath the bed I will torture, rape, and dissect you, and I will, not stop even in death Monster Monster You’re a monster A sick, deranged, creep Grotesque, twisted, miscreated fiend Leviathan Colossus Demonical Monster |
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8. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
His shadow stalks along the tombstones at night Sniffing out graves, hungering for what’s inside Led by an obituary towards recent graves still fresh Exhilarated by the thought of biting into cold dead flesh Fixated, fascinated by Democritús’ experiments Slowly his spirit grew black-hearted and malevolent Thin was the line separating psychiatric ward from home But the cemetery is where he liked to roam Morgue rat Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Der Vampir von Nürnberg - Kissing the corpse Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Human strigoi Satanic necrophiliac dabbling in the wickedness of the occult Vampiric heinous murderer spreading death, misery and tumult Tonguing the cavity of a gunshot wound his most delicious vice Behold, the vampire of Nuremberg shall rise Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Morgue rat Ich krieche wie eine Ratte durch die Nacht Mal sehen was das Grab mir hat gebracht Die Leiche ist noch Frisch ich trinke ihr Blut Oh Gottverdammt das tut richtig gut Der Vampir von Nürnberg – The gun is his tool Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Blood-sucking strigoi Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Corpse-fucking ghoul Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Murderer |
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9. | Skull with a Forked Tongue | 05:56 | Show lyrics |
I slept amongst the dead, ate the flesh of dogs and black leavened bread I pronounce the three unclean names carved in bone, to consult this mantic head Sorcery as a divinatory tool, to find that stone all philosophers seek A black shadow ascends, possessing its vessel and so the skull begins to speak Conjuration Craniomancy Divination Skull necromancy It keeps me from sleep in the middle of the night Its weary grave voice mutters, wails and sings Moaning, whining, whispering, teeth-grinding Preaching evil and the pleasure it brings Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Consulting the skull night after night from the rising moon till the morning turns bright Tell me how to lift the veil separating life from death so I can steal the holy grail Skull with a forked tongue Skull with a forked tongue The Flesh of hyenas that have fed on the dead The foam from the muzzles of rabid dogs Uncommon herbs, bone powder and the skin of snakes Distilled in a mixture of oil and human blood Elixer vitae! Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Formulated step by step I’ve created the elixir of life My spirit now scarred and mangled A price paid with my own demise My flesh rots away, I ask myself why? For I shall live forever, yet all I want is to die Forever in decay, my flesh rots away |
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10. | Like a Conscious Parasite I Roam | 08:16 | Show lyrics |
In sunset’s saddening glory Shrouded in agony A being at a loss A man and his cause, so maddening It became his cross My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation I drank from the promise of a life eternal Yet the rotting of my flesh spills into irony My being is now doomed to witness The decay of my corpse Still bound to my form I keep lurking for a new life to come My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation, reincarnation Like a conscious parasite I roam Lost, confined by the margins of life Here in German woodland I wait for innocent blood to arrive |
|||
11. | Frederick’s Experiments | 02:40 | Show lyrics |
A cockroach’s decapitated head lives on for days I’m intrigued and inspired by nature and its ways Experimenting on insects, birds, dogs and rats The subjects die instantly after severing their head In the arts of life man invents nothing But in the arts of death he outdoes nature herself A leg of a dissected spider still contracts This resurrects the idea of an experiment on human legs A limb sawed off and stolen from the local cemetery Contracting muscles quiver through electricity Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor Knew exactly what to do with his prisoners Sealed in a wooden barrel with single hole Observing time of death and departing of the soul Two prisoners are invited for dinner at the same time One is sent out hunting, the other ordered to sleep for a while Both men disemboweled, compared with fascinated eyes On the contents of their stomachs and the effects of sleep and exercise Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor A man with a taste for scientific horror The quest for the primal language of mankind An experiment designed by a dark sadistic mind Infants bred to be raised like Adam and Eve To be bathed and fed by mutes, words never spoken All their lives concealed from love, care and speech Psychotic savages all ending up broken |
|||
50:41 |
Franckensteina Strataemontanus
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing), Guitars, Bass |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 5, 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Stefan Heilemann | Cover art |
Robert Carranza | Mastering, Mixing |
Patrick Damiani | Recording (drums, guitars, bass) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
1. | Here in German Woodland | 01:35 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a golden day Of flutter and laughter And warm sunshine rays frolicking in forests In the afternoon glow His hands playfully sifting through sand Here in German woodland Soon, innocence grew terribly ill His gaze showing traces of parasitic ill will The start of a tale that is about to unfold Singing of woe, of rot and of mould |
|||
2. | Scourged Ghoul Undead | 05:38 | Show lyrics |
Little white coffin lowered into the ground Parents screaming, desperate - profound The clock struck twelve and the family went home Little did they know what horrors were about to come Days of sorrow passed by Tears outweighing stone Feeling all alone Their beloved son, now cold - bound underground There is no day without grief; Death! You remorseless thief! Bring back our son! Countless thoughts and prayers only met by more nightmares! All defied in denial of Death... He comes back in their dreams at night To wake them, reminding that he died Black cats scratching at the white memorial plaque Their howling increasingly echoes forth and back Coffin-flies dig in and worms voraciously devour A crack of lightning striking into the chapel’s tower Thumping, throbbing, pounding, sounding from inside That which should be dead slipped away this very night In disarray and ruin his little grave was found As if he crept out of a blanket made of burial ground It was an unreal sight How the boy walked back home that night Risen from a sepulchral abyss Dragging forth in rigor mortis Mother kneeled in disbelief For she could not conceive The return of her son Her grief undone Her nightmare had just begun... Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! It was a sickening scene Mother uttered one more scream She was thirstily bitten in the neck Her blood absorbed in rotten crud Tears bathed her eyes in utter grief Her heart collapsed in disbelief From the womb to the tomb and back again Once a son of light now a creature in the night Grunting, moaning, groaning and gnawing off her face Eaten alive in her dear son’s embrace Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes The return of the dead |
|||
3. | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | 03:03 | Show lyrics |
Galvanism and alchemy, science to some, witchery to others Wine will come from water and gold from stone Concocting potions from animal flesh and bone The perfume of death is my sweetest cologne Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus “I made him with these hands” “He’s just resting, waiting… for a new life to come” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” Death-magic and forbidden sorcery Into the occult and science became necromancy A pact with Mephistopheles My stirring in the dark Echoed throughout the abyss “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!“ Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus |
|||
4. | The Necromancer | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Clothed in drapes worn by those from the grave The head of the corpse pointing towards the rising sun The scent of mandrake, hemlock and opium Reciting incantations, the ceremony has begun Anatomy, exploring the flesh of the human body Alchemy, the quest for transmutation and immortality I can hear the howling of wolves, the hissing of snakes As I call upon forbidden gods, shadows twist in demonic shapes I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head The monster was built just like the devil said Scientist, physician, sorcerer, magician Raising the dead was always my ambition Built from the body parts of the victims I killed A soul given by Satan, more blood shall be spilled I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, a torso, two legs and a head. The monster was built just like the devil said Alle meine Experimente sind misslungen seit der Entdeckung der schwarze Kunst Inject the bone oil. Pull the lever. Live! Live! It twitched!... It’s alive! Prometheus arise! My son, breathe open your black eyes. It’s alive Prometheus arise! My son, breathe and open your black eyes. It’s alive I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head My monster is alive, risen from the dead |
|||
5. | Sewn for Solitude | 03:52 | Show lyrics |
The pale moon lit a ragged passage ahead Through crepuscular forests a creature fled The scattered caws of pitch black crows Their eyes reflecting jagged lightning as loud thunder roars I creep through shadows of skeletal trees With a heavy heart I defy all elements Alas! This rueful being has fallen astray I’m torn by vengeance but I want to turn away Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have you done? What havoc did you bring upon? Master! See the creature I’ve become Monster to many, friend to none I have been hiding here since that tragic day Seen as a miserable wraith, they chased me away A being so cursed, yet torn and immersed; in flesh not my own - all alone! From rotten parts accrued Sewn for solitude Abandoned - rejected Spat out - abused - neglected I will have revenge! For you have created me! The spark of my inception is the flame of your destruction You will crawl to your downfall Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have I done? What havoc did I bring upon? Master! See the creature I have become Monster to many, friend to none Master! |
|||
6. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
Operation Compass was well underway Scorching sun Coarse sand A horned desert viper slithers through dust Howling winds Burning eyes World War II under British Command In Egyptian no-man’s land A silence of the snakes Before the battle erupts Oil Oil Oil Oil Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet! Push forth the Mark VI Light! Attack! Bleak tanks rumble, bleached bones crumble Fresh cannon fodder, brutally slaughtered Filthy caked crusts of flesh and blood garnish the banks The onslaught prevails The desert of death As the last man standing falls to his knees Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance, like shadows cast a spell And black oil erupting like a fountain from hell Like a Fata Morgana, a face appears in the geyser of oil Red demonic eyes looking down on him Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand Blue lunar wasteland The fallen soldiers rise to their feet Ghastly winds Death’s stare No man’s war The undead soar Uttering monstrous roars A pack of Death closing He screams and tries to dig himself in Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin He won the battle, but not the war |
|||
7. | Monster | 03:33 | Show lyrics |
It’s not enough to be monstered by you look Disfigured, maimed, malformed, or crooked Those wicked, wretched, and mangled from within They deserve the title for the filthy rotten sins Monster Monster I’m a monster A sick, perverted psychopath Evil, hideous, an ill-natured maniac I won’t exactly scare you from underneath the bed I will torture, rape, and dissect you, and I will, not stop even in death Monster Monster You’re a monster A sick, deranged, creep Grotesque, twisted, miscreated fiend Leviathan Colossus Demonical Monster |
|||
8. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
His shadow stalks along the tombstones at night Sniffing out graves, hungering for what’s inside Led by an obituary towards recent graves still fresh Exhilarated by the thought of biting into cold dead flesh Fixated, fascinated by Democritús’ experiments Slowly his spirit grew black-hearted and malevolent Thin was the line separating psychiatric ward from home But the cemetery is where he liked to roam Morgue rat Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Der Vampir von Nürnberg - Kissing the corpse Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Human strigoi Satanic necrophiliac dabbling in the wickedness of the occult Vampiric heinous murderer spreading death, misery and tumult Tonguing the cavity of a gunshot wound his most delicious vice Behold, the vampire of Nuremberg shall rise Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Morgue rat Ich krieche wie eine Ratte durch die Nacht Mal sehen was das Grab mir hat gebracht Die Leiche ist noch Frisch ich trinke ihr Blut Oh Gottverdammt das tut richtig gut Der Vampir von Nürnberg – The gun is his tool Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Blood-sucking strigoi Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Corpse-fucking ghoul Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Murderer |
|||
9. | Skull with a Forked Tongue | 05:56 | Show lyrics |
I slept amongst the dead, ate the flesh of dogs and black leavened bread I pronounce the three unclean names carved in bone, to consult this mantic head Sorcery as a divinatory tool, to find that stone all philosophers seek A black shadow ascends, possessing its vessel and so the skull begins to speak Conjuration Craniomancy Divination Skull necromancy It keeps me from sleep in the middle of the night Its weary grave voice mutters, wails and sings Moaning, whining, whispering, teeth-grinding Preaching evil and the pleasure it brings Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Consulting the skull night after night from the rising moon till the morning turns bright Tell me how to lift the veil separating life from death so I can steal the holy grail Skull with a forked tongue Skull with a forked tongue The Flesh of hyenas that have fed on the dead The foam from the muzzles of rabid dogs Uncommon herbs, bone powder and the skin of snakes Distilled in a mixture of oil and human blood Elixer vitae! Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Formulated step by step I’ve created the elixir of life My spirit now scarred and mangled A price paid with my own demise My flesh rots away, I ask myself why? For I shall live forever, yet all I want is to die Forever in decay, my flesh rots away |
|||
10. | Like a Conscious Parasite I Roam | 08:16 | Show lyrics |
In sunset’s saddening glory Shrouded in agony A being at a loss A man and his cause, so maddening It became his cross My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation I drank from the promise of a life eternal Yet the rotting of my flesh spills into irony My being is now doomed to witness The decay of my corpse Still bound to my form I keep lurking for a new life to come My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation, reincarnation Like a conscious parasite I roam Lost, confined by the margins of life Here in German woodland I wait for innocent blood to arrive |
|||
11. | Frederick’s Experiments | 02:40 | Show lyrics |
A cockroach’s decapitated head lives on for days I’m intrigued and inspired by nature and its ways Experimenting on insects, birds, dogs and rats The subjects die instantly after severing their head In the arts of life man invents nothing But in the arts of death he outdoes nature herself A leg of a dissected spider still contracts This resurrects the idea of an experiment on human legs A limb sawed off and stolen from the local cemetery Contracting muscles quiver through electricity Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor Knew exactly what to do with his prisoners Sealed in a wooden barrel with single hole Observing time of death and departing of the soul Two prisoners are invited for dinner at the same time One is sent out hunting, the other ordered to sleep for a while Both men disemboweled, compared with fascinated eyes On the contents of their stomachs and the effects of sleep and exercise Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor A man with a taste for scientific horror The quest for the primal language of mankind An experiment designed by a dark sadistic mind Infants bred to be raised like Adam and Eve To be bathed and fed by mutes, words never spoken All their lives concealed from love, care and speech Psychotic savages all ending up broken |
|||
50:41 |
Franckensteina Strataemontanus
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing), Guitars, Bass |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 5, 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Stefan Heilemann | Cover art |
Robert Carranza | Mastering, Mixing |
Patrick Damiani | Recording (drums, guitars, bass) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Disc 1 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Here in German Woodland | 01:35 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a golden day Of flutter and laughter And warm sunshine rays frolicking in forests In the afternoon glow His hands playfully sifting through sand Here in German woodland Soon, innocence grew terribly ill His gaze showing traces of parasitic ill will The start of a tale that is about to unfold Singing of woe, of rot and of mould |
|||
2. | Scourged Ghoul Undead | 05:38 | Show lyrics |
Little white coffin lowered into the ground Parents screaming, desperate - profound The clock struck twelve and the family went home Little did they know what horrors were about to come Days of sorrow passed by Tears outweighing stone Feeling all alone Their beloved son, now cold - bound underground There is no day without grief; Death! You remorseless thief! Bring back our son! Countless thoughts and prayers only met by more nightmares! All defied in denial of Death... He comes back in their dreams at night To wake them, reminding that he died Black cats scratching at the white memorial plaque Their howling increasingly echoes forth and back Coffin-flies dig in and worms voraciously devour A crack of lightning striking into the chapel’s tower Thumping, throbbing, pounding, sounding from inside That which should be dead slipped away this very night In disarray and ruin his little grave was found As if he crept out of a blanket made of burial ground It was an unreal sight How the boy walked back home that night Risen from a sepulchral abyss Dragging forth in rigor mortis Mother kneeled in disbelief For she could not conceive The return of her son Her grief undone Her nightmare had just begun... Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! It was a sickening scene Mother uttered one more scream She was thirstily bitten in the neck Her blood absorbed in rotten crud Tears bathed her eyes in utter grief Her heart collapsed in disbelief From the womb to the tomb and back again Once a son of light now a creature in the night Grunting, moaning, groaning and gnawing off her face Eaten alive in her dear son’s embrace Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes The return of the dead |
|||
3. | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | 03:03 | Show lyrics |
Galvanism and alchemy, science to some, witchery to others Wine will come from water and gold from stone Concocting potions from animal flesh and bone The perfume of death is my sweetest cologne Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus “I made him with these hands” “He’s just resting, waiting… for a new life to come” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” Death-magic and forbidden sorcery Into the occult and science became necromancy A pact with Mephistopheles My stirring in the dark Echoed throughout the abyss “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!“ Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus |
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Side B | |||
4. | The Necromancer | 04:08 | |
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5. | Sewn for Solitude | 03:52 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
24:16 | |||
Disc 2 | |||
Side A | |||
1. | Monster | 03:33 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
2. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
Side B | |||
3. | Skull with a Forked Tongue | 05:56 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
4. | Like a Conscious Parasite I Roam | 08:16 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
5. | Frederick’s Experiments | 02:40 | |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
26:25 |
Franckensteina Strataemontanus
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing), Guitars, Bass |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 5, 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Stefan Heilemann | Cover art |
Robert Carranza | Mastering, Mixing |
Patrick Damiani | Recording (drums, guitars, bass) |
Tracks | |||
---|---|---|---|
Side A | |||
1. | Here in German Woodland | 01:35 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a golden day Of flutter and laughter And warm sunshine rays frolicking in forests In the afternoon glow His hands playfully sifting through sand Here in German woodland Soon, innocence grew terribly ill His gaze showing traces of parasitic ill will The start of a tale that is about to unfold Singing of woe, of rot and of mould |
|||
2. | Scourged Ghoul Undead | 05:38 | Show lyrics |
Little white coffin lowered into the ground Parents screaming, desperate - profound The clock struck twelve and the family went home Little did they know what horrors were about to come Days of sorrow passed by Tears outweighing stone Feeling all alone Their beloved son, now cold - bound underground There is no day without grief; Death! You remorseless thief! Bring back our son! Countless thoughts and prayers only met by more nightmares! All defied in denial of Death... He comes back in their dreams at night To wake them, reminding that he died Black cats scratching at the white memorial plaque Their howling increasingly echoes forth and back Coffin-flies dig in and worms voraciously devour A crack of lightning striking into the chapel’s tower Thumping, throbbing, pounding, sounding from inside That which should be dead slipped away this very night In disarray and ruin his little grave was found As if he crept out of a blanket made of burial ground It was an unreal sight How the boy walked back home that night Risen from a sepulchral abyss Dragging forth in rigor mortis Mother kneeled in disbelief For she could not conceive The return of her son Her grief undone Her nightmare had just begun... Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! It was a sickening scene Mother uttered one more scream She was thirstily bitten in the neck Her blood absorbed in rotten crud Tears bathed her eyes in utter grief Her heart collapsed in disbelief From the womb to the tomb and back again Once a son of light now a creature in the night Grunting, moaning, groaning and gnawing off her face Eaten alive in her dear son’s embrace Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes The return of the dead |
|||
3. | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | 03:03 | Show lyrics |
Galvanism and alchemy, science to some, witchery to others Wine will come from water and gold from stone Concocting potions from animal flesh and bone The perfume of death is my sweetest cologne Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus “I made him with these hands” “He’s just resting, waiting… for a new life to come” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” Death-magic and forbidden sorcery Into the occult and science became necromancy A pact with Mephistopheles My stirring in the dark Echoed throughout the abyss “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!“ Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus |
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4. | The Necromancer | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Clothed in drapes worn by those from the grave The head of the corpse pointing towards the rising sun The scent of mandrake, hemlock and opium Reciting incantations, the ceremony has begun Anatomy, exploring the flesh of the human body Alchemy, the quest for transmutation and immortality I can hear the howling of wolves, the hissing of snakes As I call upon forbidden gods, shadows twist in demonic shapes I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head The monster was built just like the devil said Scientist, physician, sorcerer, magician Raising the dead was always my ambition Built from the body parts of the victims I killed A soul given by Satan, more blood shall be spilled I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, a torso, two legs and a head. The monster was built just like the devil said Alle meine Experimente sind misslungen seit der Entdeckung der schwarze Kunst Inject the bone oil. Pull the lever. Live! Live! It twitched!... It’s alive! Prometheus arise! My son, breathe open your black eyes. It’s alive Prometheus arise! My son, breathe and open your black eyes. It’s alive I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head My monster is alive, risen from the dead |
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5. | Sewn for Solitude | 03:52 | Show lyrics |
(loading lyrics...) | |||
6. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
Operation Compass was well underway Scorching sun Coarse sand A horned desert viper slithers through dust Howling winds Burning eyes World War II under British Command In Egyptian no-man’s land A silence of the snakes Before the battle erupts Oil Oil Oil Oil Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet! Push forth the Mark VI Light! Attack! Bleak tanks rumble, bleached bones crumble Fresh cannon fodder, brutally slaughtered Filthy caked crusts of flesh and blood garnish the banks The onslaught prevails The desert of death As the last man standing falls to his knees Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance, like shadows cast a spell And black oil erupting like a fountain from hell Like a Fata Morgana, a face appears in the geyser of oil Red demonic eyes looking down on him Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand Blue lunar wasteland The fallen soldiers rise to their feet Ghastly winds Death’s stare No man’s war The undead soar Uttering monstrous roars A pack of Death closing He screams and tries to dig himself in Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin He won the battle, but not the war |
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Side B | |||
7. | Monster | 03:33 | Show lyrics |
It’s not enough to be monstered by you look Disfigured, maimed, malformed, or crooked Those wicked, wretched, and mangled from within They deserve the title for the filthy rotten sins Monster Monster I’m a monster A sick, perverted psychopath Evil, hideous, an ill-natured maniac I won’t exactly scare you from underneath the bed I will torture, rape, and dissect you, and I will, not stop even in death Monster Monster You’re a monster A sick, deranged, creep Grotesque, twisted, miscreated fiend Leviathan Colossus Demonical Monster |
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8. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
His shadow stalks along the tombstones at night Sniffing out graves, hungering for what’s inside Led by an obituary towards recent graves still fresh Exhilarated by the thought of biting into cold dead flesh Fixated, fascinated by Democritús’ experiments Slowly his spirit grew black-hearted and malevolent Thin was the line separating psychiatric ward from home But the cemetery is where he liked to roam Morgue rat Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Der Vampir von Nürnberg - Kissing the corpse Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Human strigoi Satanic necrophiliac dabbling in the wickedness of the occult Vampiric heinous murderer spreading death, misery and tumult Tonguing the cavity of a gunshot wound his most delicious vice Behold, the vampire of Nuremberg shall rise Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Morgue rat Ich krieche wie eine Ratte durch die Nacht Mal sehen was das Grab mir hat gebracht Die Leiche ist noch Frisch ich trinke ihr Blut Oh Gottverdammt das tut richtig gut Der Vampir von Nürnberg – The gun is his tool Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Blood-sucking strigoi Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Corpse-fucking ghoul Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Murderer |
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9. | Skull with a Forked Tongue | 05:56 | Show lyrics |
I slept amongst the dead, ate the flesh of dogs and black leavened bread I pronounce the three unclean names carved in bone, to consult this mantic head Sorcery as a divinatory tool, to find that stone all philosophers seek A black shadow ascends, possessing its vessel and so the skull begins to speak Conjuration Craniomancy Divination Skull necromancy It keeps me from sleep in the middle of the night Its weary grave voice mutters, wails and sings Moaning, whining, whispering, teeth-grinding Preaching evil and the pleasure it brings Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Consulting the skull night after night from the rising moon till the morning turns bright Tell me how to lift the veil separating life from death so I can steal the holy grail Skull with a forked tongue Skull with a forked tongue The Flesh of hyenas that have fed on the dead The foam from the muzzles of rabid dogs Uncommon herbs, bone powder and the skin of snakes Distilled in a mixture of oil and human blood Elixer vitae! Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Formulated step by step I’ve created the elixir of life My spirit now scarred and mangled A price paid with my own demise My flesh rots away, I ask myself why? For I shall live forever, yet all I want is to die Forever in decay, my flesh rots away |
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10. | Like a Conscious Parasite I Roam | 08:16 | Show lyrics |
In sunset’s saddening glory Shrouded in agony A being at a loss A man and his cause, so maddening It became his cross My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation I drank from the promise of a life eternal Yet the rotting of my flesh spills into irony My being is now doomed to witness The decay of my corpse Still bound to my form I keep lurking for a new life to come My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation, reincarnation Like a conscious parasite I roam Lost, confined by the margins of life Here in German woodland I wait for innocent blood to arrive |
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48:01 |
Franckensteina Strataemontanus
Members | |
---|---|
Original line-up | |
Band members | |
Seregor | Guitars, Vocals |
Ardek | Keyboards, Piano, Orchestrations, Vocals (backing), Guitars, Bass |
Namtar | Drums, Percussion |
Guest/Session | |
Nikos Mavridis | Violin (tracks 5, 10) |
Miscellaneous staff | |
Stefan Heilemann | Cover art |
Robert Carranza | Mastering, Mixing |
Patrick Damiani | Recording (drums, guitars, bass) |
Tracks | |||
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1. | Here in German Woodland | 01:35 | Show lyrics |
Once upon a golden day Of flutter and laughter And warm sunshine rays frolicking in forests In the afternoon glow His hands playfully sifting through sand Here in German woodland Soon, innocence grew terribly ill His gaze showing traces of parasitic ill will The start of a tale that is about to unfold Singing of woe, of rot and of mould |
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2. | Scourged Ghoul Undead | 05:38 | Show lyrics |
Little white coffin lowered into the ground Parents screaming, desperate - profound The clock struck twelve and the family went home Little did they know what horrors were about to come Days of sorrow passed by Tears outweighing stone Feeling all alone Their beloved son, now cold - bound underground There is no day without grief; Death! You remorseless thief! Bring back our son! Countless thoughts and prayers only met by more nightmares! All defied in denial of Death... He comes back in their dreams at night To wake them, reminding that he died Black cats scratching at the white memorial plaque Their howling increasingly echoes forth and back Coffin-flies dig in and worms voraciously devour A crack of lightning striking into the chapel’s tower Thumping, throbbing, pounding, sounding from inside That which should be dead slipped away this very night In disarray and ruin his little grave was found As if he crept out of a blanket made of burial ground It was an unreal sight How the boy walked back home that night Risen from a sepulchral abyss Dragging forth in rigor mortis Mother kneeled in disbelief For she could not conceive The return of her son Her grief undone Her nightmare had just begun... Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! Scourged ghoul, undead! It was a sickening scene Mother uttered one more scream She was thirstily bitten in the neck Her blood absorbed in rotten crud Tears bathed her eyes in utter grief Her heart collapsed in disbelief From the womb to the tomb and back again Once a son of light now a creature in the night Grunting, moaning, groaning and gnawing off her face Eaten alive in her dear son’s embrace Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes Scourged ghoul, undead! Liquid brains oozing from his nose Hatching vermin worming through his head Draped in filthy graveyard clothes The return of the dead |
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3. | Franckensteina Strataemontanus | 03:03 | Show lyrics |
Galvanism and alchemy, science to some, witchery to others Wine will come from water and gold from stone Concocting potions from animal flesh and bone The perfume of death is my sweetest cologne Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus “I made him with these hands” “He’s just resting, waiting… for a new life to come” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” Death-magic and forbidden sorcery Into the occult and science became necromancy A pact with Mephistopheles My stirring in the dark Echoed throughout the abyss “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “I am God, I am God, I am God...” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!” “Oh, in the name of God, now I know how it feels to be God. I am God!“ Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus Franckensteina Strataemontanus |
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4. | The Necromancer | 04:08 | Show lyrics |
Clothed in drapes worn by those from the grave The head of the corpse pointing towards the rising sun The scent of mandrake, hemlock and opium Reciting incantations, the ceremony has begun Anatomy, exploring the flesh of the human body Alchemy, the quest for transmutation and immortality I can hear the howling of wolves, the hissing of snakes As I call upon forbidden gods, shadows twist in demonic shapes I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head The monster was built just like the devil said Scientist, physician, sorcerer, magician Raising the dead was always my ambition Built from the body parts of the victims I killed A soul given by Satan, more blood shall be spilled I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, a torso, two legs and a head. The monster was built just like the devil said Alle meine Experimente sind misslungen seit der Entdeckung der schwarze Kunst Inject the bone oil. Pull the lever. Live! Live! It twitched!... It’s alive! Prometheus arise! My son, breathe open your black eyes. It’s alive Prometheus arise! My son, breathe and open your black eyes. It’s alive I made a pact in exchange for a soul I killed six times to pay the devil’s toll Two arms, torso, two legs and a head My monster is alive, risen from the dead |
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5. | Sewn for Solitude | 03:52 | Show lyrics |
The pale moon lit a ragged passage ahead Through crepuscular forests a creature fled The scattered caws of pitch black crows Their eyes reflecting jagged lightning as loud thunder roars I creep through shadows of skeletal trees With a heavy heart I defy all elements Alas! This rueful being has fallen astray I’m torn by vengeance but I want to turn away Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have you done? What havoc did you bring upon? Master! See the creature I’ve become Monster to many, friend to none I have been hiding here since that tragic day Seen as a miserable wraith, they chased me away A being so cursed, yet torn and immersed; in flesh not my own - all alone! From rotten parts accrued Sewn for solitude Abandoned - rejected Spat out - abused - neglected I will have revenge! For you have created me! The spark of my inception is the flame of your destruction You will crawl to your downfall Rogue! Rogue! Wretched Rogue! What have I done? What havoc did I bring upon? Master! See the creature I have become Monster to many, friend to none Master! |
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6. | Operation Compass | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
Operation Compass was well underway Scorching sun Coarse sand A horned desert viper slithers through dust Howling winds Burning eyes World War II under British Command In Egyptian no-man’s land A silence of the snakes Before the battle erupts Oil Oil Oil Oil Enemy in sight! Keep low and quiet! Push forth the Mark VI Light! Attack! Bleak tanks rumble, bleached bones crumble Fresh cannon fodder, brutally slaughtered Filthy caked crusts of flesh and blood garnish the banks The onslaught prevails The desert of death As the last man standing falls to his knees Amidst fire and flame Something whispers his name There in the distance, like shadows cast a spell And black oil erupting like a fountain from hell Like a Fata Morgana, a face appears in the geyser of oil Red demonic eyes looking down on him Then this apogee of hell reverses down the well The dead bodies start to twitch in the sand Blue lunar wasteland The fallen soldiers rise to their feet Ghastly winds Death’s stare No man’s war The undead soar Uttering monstrous roars A pack of Death closing He screams and tries to dig himself in Yet cold teeth already gnaw at his skin He won the battle, but not the war |
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7. | Monster | 03:33 | Show lyrics |
It’s not enough to be monstered by you look Disfigured, maimed, malformed, or crooked Those wicked, wretched, and mangled from within They deserve the title for the filthy rotten sins Monster Monster I’m a monster A sick, perverted psychopath Evil, hideous, an ill-natured maniac I won’t exactly scare you from underneath the bed I will torture, rape, and dissect you, and I will, not stop even in death Monster Monster You’re a monster A sick, deranged, creep Grotesque, twisted, miscreated fiend Leviathan Colossus Demonical Monster |
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8. | Der Vampir von Nürnberg | 06:00 | Show lyrics |
His shadow stalks along the tombstones at night Sniffing out graves, hungering for what’s inside Led by an obituary towards recent graves still fresh Exhilarated by the thought of biting into cold dead flesh Fixated, fascinated by Democritús’ experiments Slowly his spirit grew black-hearted and malevolent Thin was the line separating psychiatric ward from home But the cemetery is where he liked to roam Morgue rat Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Der Vampir von Nürnberg - Kissing the corpse Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Human strigoi Satanic necrophiliac dabbling in the wickedness of the occult Vampiric heinous murderer spreading death, misery and tumult Tonguing the cavity of a gunshot wound his most delicious vice Behold, the vampire of Nuremberg shall rise Morgue rat Morgue rat Leichenschauhaus Ratte! Morgue rat Ich krieche wie eine Ratte durch die Nacht Mal sehen was das Grab mir hat gebracht Die Leiche ist noch Frisch ich trinke ihr Blut Oh Gottverdammt das tut richtig gut Der Vampir von Nürnberg – The gun is his tool Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Blood-sucking strigoi Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Corpse-fucking ghoul Der Vampir von Nürnberg – Murderer |
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9. | Skull with a Forked Tongue | 05:56 | Show lyrics |
I slept amongst the dead, ate the flesh of dogs and black leavened bread I pronounce the three unclean names carved in bone, to consult this mantic head Sorcery as a divinatory tool, to find that stone all philosophers seek A black shadow ascends, possessing its vessel and so the skull begins to speak Conjuration Craniomancy Divination Skull necromancy It keeps me from sleep in the middle of the night Its weary grave voice mutters, wails and sings Moaning, whining, whispering, teeth-grinding Preaching evil and the pleasure it brings Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Consulting the skull night after night from the rising moon till the morning turns bright Tell me how to lift the veil separating life from death so I can steal the holy grail Skull with a forked tongue Skull with a forked tongue The Flesh of hyenas that have fed on the dead The foam from the muzzles of rabid dogs Uncommon herbs, bone powder and the skin of snakes Distilled in a mixture of oil and human blood Elixer vitae! Into the occult My breakthrough Dippel’s oil Prussian blue Alchemy Grave robbery Soul-transference Necromancy Formulated step by step I’ve created the elixir of life My spirit now scarred and mangled A price paid with my own demise My flesh rots away, I ask myself why? For I shall live forever, yet all I want is to die Forever in decay, my flesh rots away |
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10. | Like a Conscious Parasite I Roam | 08:16 | Show lyrics |
In sunset’s saddening glory Shrouded in agony A being at a loss A man and his cause, so maddening It became his cross My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation I drank from the promise of a life eternal Yet the rotting of my flesh spills into irony My being is now doomed to witness The decay of my corpse Still bound to my form I keep lurking for a new life to come My old mangled soul Prowls its walls My flesh forlorn I’m but a ghoul Abiding the cruel I yearn for redemption, my salvation, reincarnation Like a conscious parasite I roam Lost, confined by the margins of life Here in German woodland I wait for innocent blood to arrive |
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11. | Frederick’s Experiments | 02:40 | Show lyrics |
A cockroach’s decapitated head lives on for days I’m intrigued and inspired by nature and its ways Experimenting on insects, birds, dogs and rats The subjects die instantly after severing their head In the arts of life man invents nothing But in the arts of death he outdoes nature herself A leg of a dissected spider still contracts This resurrects the idea of an experiment on human legs A limb sawed off and stolen from the local cemetery Contracting muscles quiver through electricity Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor Knew exactly what to do with his prisoners Sealed in a wooden barrel with single hole Observing time of death and departing of the soul Two prisoners are invited for dinner at the same time One is sent out hunting, the other ordered to sleep for a while Both men disemboweled, compared with fascinated eyes On the contents of their stomachs and the effects of sleep and exercise Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor A man with a taste for scientific horror The quest for the primal language of mankind An experiment designed by a dark sadistic mind Infants bred to be raised like Adam and Eve To be bathed and fed by mutes, words never spoken All their lives concealed from love, care and speech Psychotic savages all ending up broken |
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50:41 |
Band ascii art
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