Tranquillity ... How necessary, how boring it can be.
The liquid void has no ears
to receive the consolation of the surface.
[AN IGNORANT:]
"MAYBE IT'S BETTER THAT WAY.
WHAT DOESN'T TOUCH DOESN'T HURT."
The innocence of a swan
gliding on a desolate lake
can't b
e sensed
and therefore can't bring jealousy.
Entire worlds full of wonder and banished
to rest only in few visionary minds,
haunting them with their glowing beauty.
Fortunately, there are always
those with the forked tongue
to bring the borders closer.
But there are also tribes of inferior beings,
beings so proudly inferior
necessary to give worth to the higher.
But not without cost...
They liberate ordeals.
Their negative thought is the fungus,
the grim vestment of the relic.
[THE LEADER:]
THE ERODING FRANKINCENCE
OF MARASMOUS CAN
BECOME UNTOLERABLE.
The region is warm like a blanket
but narrow as a coffin,
an UNDERWORLD.
Fortunately, there are always
those with the forked tongue
to bring the borders closer...
2. Underworld - Act II
Our patience has been dried away
since a long time...
And the thirst, the need to unfold desire,
Transforming it into a touchable object.
How bitter was the taste of emptiness
in our illformed mouths
but it was natural as our ideas
was based on wishes younger,
Weed as fruits at first.
[A SCHOLAR:]
"YOUR FATHERS KNEW
THESE WORLDS BY HEART
EVEN THOSE THAT NEVER EVER CROSSED
THE EERIE SIDE."
We came to see the upper world.
Where colours dance and the air moves bright
We came to see...
As a cat with her claws extended
orchestrates a merciless grasp,
weapons move damn swiftly
in an attacking stance,
ready to cut through
and open doors grimson.
[A SCHOLAR:]
"YOUR FATHERS KNEW
THESE WORLDS BY HEART
EVEN THOSE THAT NEVER EVER CROSSED
THE EERIE SIDE."
[DIVINE MOTHER:]
"LET ME HEAL YOUR WOUNDS WITH MINE
NOW THAT YOU HAVE DECEIVED THE NIGHT."
[THE LEADER:]
"REST ASSURED THAT NONE OF US
WILL EVER LOSE THE WAY TO YOU.
THESE STAINS ARE ALSO TRACES
AND THEY CLEAN CONSCIENCE
AS IT IS THEIR DUTY TO DO SO.
THE ORDER WAS STRICT
CONQUER OR BE CONQUERED."
Our patience has been dried away
since a long time...
And the thirst, the need to unfold desire,
Transforming it into a touchable object.
[THE LEADER:]
HOLD NO MORE YOUR HORSES
LET THEM RUN LIKE LAVA
MELTING STONE AND GRANITE
IN HOLLOW CAVES.
Raging victory acts as shepherd
leading the way
3. Underworld - Act III
[Spoken:]
A millenium passed away, small forests
became jungles, mountains were devoured from sand
violently exiled from vast deserts with the help of hands
made from storms. It was as if someone wanted
to erase the traces. The triumphant laughs of
liberation are forgotten. The world that once
seemed new and vibrant turned pale and old.
Why?
Maybe because of the strange inhabitants were
to eager to forget the path that led them through.
In their journey they were leaving behind
not only spoken; not only part of their body
but also part of their mind.
And they became so tired,
all they demanded was to rest.
It wasn't difficult.
There was not any apparent changes.
So a strange kind of sleep.
Fell among the lot
The more they cultivated this habbit.
To seek in the deep matters of Lethargy.
The more their environment changed.
It was a curious transformation.
It was as if someone wanted to erase the traces
However there is one trace that will ever remain.
Week as a whisper it can reopen the way.
Just listen
Your Fathers knew these words by heart even
those that never crossed, the eerie side.
4. Underworld - Finale
[Instrumental]
5. Tartarus
[Instrumental]
6. Misery's King
Winds listen to me
And carry my voice as far as there are ears to hear
Clouds lift my spirit to the open doors of heaven
Eleven times the earth has offered a ring to her beloved
since the day I reached this lonely place.
Now I am Misery's King
These rocks became my Palace
I am King without one subject
Hallucination is my faithful servant
When I feel sad I am dancing with my thoughts
I tried to lock inside me
Something young, Something vivid
But in vain.
Now I'm Misery's King
7. Elegy
[Instrumental]
8. As Hope
The book before them
Where all records have been written
When Creation comes in Trial
Then the Gods will sit in Judgement
Canticles as hope
Do not forsake me
Seeking me through vast afflicted
To redeem me, by the passion.
Canticles as hope
This is my prayer to you, like the deer
that yearns for running streams
My soul is yearning
Where can I see the face of you?
Canticles as hope
Do not forsake me
Seeking me through vast afflicted
To redeem me, by the passion.
Let such a labor not to be useless by the Judge.
Canticles as hope
9. Adagio
Mouldbreath from Dirty Granny Tales
Oblivion Realm is fading in the grave
Death! Always be mine
Is seeking for peace
Terms of mind no longer exist
Deamonic celebraton
Death! Always be mine
10. Ethereal Dome / The Trip Is Not So Long
Time was running out, and the people knew it.
The ethereal dome was not visible anymore.
The Trip is not so Long:
In a deserted dirty station.
A passenger is in wait.
He has a ticket for the last train.
The trip is not so long.
A dance on the edge of a bridge that was left uncompleted.
An old brown hat upon his head fails to block the liar sun.
His cloth is the yellow dust, he looks so tired.
The trip is not so long.
A dance on the edge of a bridge that was left uncompleted.
His life, his memories will be left back.
Nothing to carry on this journey.
There are no luggages aside him.
The train has arrived as a shadow at night
And its whistle is giving the signal.
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and therefore can't bring jealousy.
Entire worlds full of wonder and banished
to rest only in few visionary minds,
haunting them with their glowing beauty.
Fortunately, there are always
those with the forked tongue
to bring the borders closer.
But there are also tribes of inferior beings,
beings so proudly inferior
necessary to give worth to the higher.
But not without cost...
They liberate ordeals.
Their negative thought is the fungus,
the grim vestment of the relic.
[THE LEADER:]
THE ERODING FRANKINCENCE
OF MARASMOUS CAN
BECOME UNTOLERABLE.
The region is warm like a blanket
but narrow as a coffin,
an UNDERWORLD.
Fortunately, there are always
those with the forked tongue
to bring the borders closer...
2. Underworld - Act II
Our patience has been dried away
since a long time...
And the thirst, the need to unfold desire,
Transforming it into a touchable object.
How bitter was the taste of emptiness
in our illformed mouths
but it was natural as our ideas
was based on wishes younger,
Weed as fruits at first.
[A SCHOLAR:]
"YOUR FATHERS KNEW
THESE WORLDS BY HEART
EVEN THOSE THAT NEVER EVER CROSSED
THE EERIE SIDE."
We came to see the upper world.
Where colours dance and the air moves bright
We came to see...
As a cat with her claws extended
orchestrates a merciless grasp,
weapons move damn swiftly
in an attacking stance,
ready to cut through
and open doors grimson.
[A SCHOLAR:]
"YOUR FATHERS KNEW
THESE WORLDS BY HEART
EVEN THOSE THAT NEVER EVER CROSSED
THE EERIE SIDE."
[DIVINE MOTHER:]
"LET ME HEAL YOUR WOUNDS WITH MINE
NOW THAT YOU HAVE DECEIVED THE NIGHT."
[THE LEADER:]
"REST ASSURED THAT NONE OF US
WILL EVER LOSE THE WAY TO YOU.
THESE STAINS ARE ALSO TRACES
AND THEY CLEAN CONSCIENCE
AS IT IS THEIR DUTY TO DO SO.
THE ORDER WAS STRICT
CONQUER OR BE CONQUERED."
Our patience has been dried away
since a long time...
And the thirst, the need to unfold desire,
Transforming it into a touchable object.
[THE LEADER:]
HOLD NO MORE YOUR HORSES
LET THEM RUN LIKE LAVA
MELTING STONE AND GRANITE
IN HOLLOW CAVES.
Raging victory acts as shepherd
leading the way
3. Underworld - Act III
[Spoken:]
A millenium passed away, small forests
became jungles, mountains were devoured from sand
violently exiled from vast deserts with the help of hands
made from storms. It was as if someone wanted
to erase the traces. The triumphant laughs of
liberation are forgotten. The world that once
seemed new and vibrant turned pale and old.
Why?
Maybe because of the strange inhabitants were
to eager to forget the path that led them through.
In their journey they were leaving behind
not only spoken; not only part of their body
but also part of their mind.
And they became so tired,
all they demanded was to rest.
It wasn't difficult.
There was not any apparent changes.
So a strange kind of sleep.
Fell among the lot
The more they cultivated this habbit.
To seek in the deep matters of Lethargy.
The more their environment changed.
It was a curious transformation.
It was as if someone wanted to erase the traces
However there is one trace that will ever remain.
Week as a whisper it can reopen the way.
Just listen
Your Fathers knew these words by heart even
those that never crossed, the eerie side.
4. Underworld - Finale
[Instrumental]
5. Tartarus
[Instrumental]
6. Misery's King
Winds listen to me
And carry my voice as far as there are ears to hear
Clouds lift my spirit to the open doors of heaven
Eleven times the earth has offered a ring to her beloved
since the day I reached this lonely place.
Now I am Misery's King
These rocks became my Palace
I am King without one subject
Hallucination is my faithful servant
When I feel sad I am dancing with my thoughts
I tried to lock inside me
Something young, Something vivid
But in vain.
Now I'm Misery's King
7. Elegy
[Instrumental]
8. As Hope
The book before them
Where all records have been written
When Creation comes in Trial
Then the Gods will sit in Judgement
Canticles as hope
Do not forsake me
Seeking me through vast afflicted
To redeem me, by the passion.
Canticles as hope
This is my prayer to you, like the deer
that yearns for running streams
My soul is yearning
Where can I see the face of you?
Canticles as hope
Do not forsake me
Seeking me through vast afflicted
To redeem me, by the passion.
Let such a labor not to be useless by the Judge.
Canticles as hope
9. Adagio
Mouldbreath from Dirty Granny Tales
Oblivion Realm is fading in the grave
Death! Always be mine
Is seeking for peace
Terms of mind no longer exist
Deamonic celebraton
Death! Always be mine
10. Ethereal Dome / The Trip Is Not So Long
Time was running out, and the people knew it.
The ethereal dome was not visible anymore.
The Trip is not so Long:
In a deserted dirty station.
A passenger is in wait.
He has a ticket for the last train.
The trip is not so long.
A dance on the edge of a bridge that was left uncompleted.
An old brown hat upon his head fails to block the liar sun.
His cloth is the yellow dust, he looks so tired.
The trip is not so long.
A dance on the edge of a bridge that was left uncompleted.
His life, his memories will be left back.
Nothing to carry on this journey.
There are no luggages aside him.
The train has arrived as a shadow at night
And its whistle is giving the signal.