1. |
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2. |
The Shore (retractatio)
03:32
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Give me a sable image of death
A glorious remedy
To an enforced absence of life
It relieves but it does not mend
Revenge for the sake of revenge
Could we imagine a more cruel infamy than to live on the grounds of our own defeat ?
Do you hear the philistines talk?
Oh, they have much to answer for
Simulacra of intensity displayed
Annihilation and dissolution sold
Despisers of life are they
Toothless sharks circling in shallow waters
This ruthless king will keep you safe on the shore
And let you choke, unhurt
They hung the false prophet
and beneath his foul beard
They could make out the words
etched on his parched lips
Holy.
Holy and sacred as life can be
The coldest alchemy, the coldest pulpit
Damned.
Damned and holy is what we are
Grit your teeth and grind the life
out of your bones, it is gold dust
It is gold dust.
Scrape them to the marrow,
it hurts but that's how you realize you're alive
May life be haunting and hunting you.
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3. |
The Swell
03:38
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Behold, with our plain eyes, reduced to make out ghosts
Beseech on our bloody knees, a spark for our shriveled hearts
To beat one more time, to feel how it felt, to feel how it felt.
Be loved and hold on to your myths and your tales
Because it's all you got, since you can't content yourself with yourself
Barking at the stars while we're all clawing for life
And tremble, the relief is not granted
Since nothing is granted, not even the hand you trample
And just wait, for the end to come
Unabsolved from your predicates
Pathetic and proud
Because it's all you have ever been
But you must honor the griefs unheeded
Do penance for the lives you claimed
Get swallowed by your Leviathan
with your forevers, forevers, forevers
And witness the harbingers of your failure
The symbol of a sin I have yet to commit
They spoilt the moment for they would not keep silent
The stain of their words, the stench of their breath
Praising the mercy of their lord
That angel of death
But oh ! Look at these god-fearing fools
Look at the land they roam
This is world made mad and cruel
For the scoundrels to enthrone
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4. |
The Waves
04:33
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I was right there, in the muted sound of heat
Among glowing and numb bodies
Fighting against armies of flies, battalions of lice
Pretending we were not alone
Them waves are closing in,
How raw but ever-sharpening
How could the depth look so welcoming now?
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
How I miss a lesser evil now
Proof of my very own perdition
We let our wretched souls stare,
after countless days in her belly
but no tierra, oh my!
Should we give up or should we starve to death
and let the vultures' claws whiten with our bones
We broke every single oars and oh God,
you won't swell the sail,
I know you scoundrel, you won't swell the sail
And they will feast on us
(But they will remain) unharmed and forgiven
Forsaken.
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5. |
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Expose the disease of redundancy; full, complete
...And my nature shall no longer endure restraint
Fall the walls of desire, I will rend asunder the Word made Flesh
– for there is no mother tongue.
I have made so many efforts
Emptied so many thrones
And heard the hymns of triumph, all of them fell short
But he still jerks, swinging on that shapeless tree
People still walk by and spit on the ground disgustedly
As to honor his mistake and offer it to their fetish
To make his what was ours, and spare themselves a wrath unborne
Oh the apostate, “only the dead advocates for death” they said.
Only the dead advocates for death
I have vanquished, I have devoured
I have relished on beheading tyrants,
But victory is never complete, never complete, always lonely
The surface doesn't look like a real place from down here
The sun is a legend people lost interest in telling
Defeat passed on, from generation to degeneration.
But I had found solace in your arms
The ancient secret of the truly living
I heard the distant and forgotten chants of hope
Whispered then shouted from the hearth of sedition
Donne moi ta main camarade, prête moi ton cœur compagnon
Nous referons les barricades et la vie nous la gagnerons
The totalitarian narrative of despair
at the bottom of it all
It was to be expected
I dare say, it was to be hoped for
An inglorious wreckage, untold but underlying
For the true tragedy of Human is language itself,
Its ultimate, unforgiving wreckage
Speak in puns and irrelevance
Speak in tongues, an alien pattern.
Exegesis.
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