1. |
Brukket
04:54
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Brukket
Det syder, det koker I gryten av formløse fjes
Stanken av klamme sinn når sjelen
En eim av tap
Synet kjenner angsten gjennom et sprukket vindu
Hvor verden gror grå for hver en fallende dråpe
Og gatelyktene gir ei trøst
Himmelen var engang rød
Brakte håp og en strøm av vilje
Jeg har vasket mine hender i fornuftens fossefall
Men bærer ennå arr etter forlorne år
Jeg har sett de rene drukne i de sorte vann
Himmelen var engang rød
Brakte håp og en strøm av vilje
Nå er himmelen grønn, sykelig og fortært
Som et kvelende teppe
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2. |
Your Black Waters
06:38
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Your Black Waters
The fluent beauty of the swan
Scorch my eyelids
So I may see forever
All I hold dear falter
Caress my bones
Lick my wounds
Split my heart
And drown my soul
In your black waters
Moments of grace and lust
The swans danced before me
Flies sputter as I sing
The soil itself would swallow me
Caress my bones
Lick me wounds
Split my heart
And drown my soul
In your black waters
In your black waters
I, the swans reject, the vultures bait
Float among humans with missing faces
Liquid sculptures litter the landscape
Scarred for life, scared of living
In your black waters
In your black waters
The gentle touch of raindrops
The dim world of city lights
The tranquilizer of senses
Female shapes flicker slowly
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3. |
The Bird of Dread
04:40
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The Bird of Dread
A voice, and it is my own
Lurking through with a weird tone
A movement, shivering warm steel
Carving ghost for a moment to heal
A sculpture, the redeemer losing light
If only my tears where bright
Through the window such sights I see
A greater presence, not half as me
Through the window such sights I see
Merry demons, I wish to be
Liquid memories slips through the cracks
Sleepless train on worn mirror tracks
No recollection of a rainless day
Bleeding thoughts the twisted way
Stolen eyelids, eyelids of led
Breeds of vengeance, on the bird of dread
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4. |
Steamhead
05:21
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Steamhead
I float in my watery womb
My sparkling diamond jar
If it ever springs a leak
My dance of pales won’t be far
It’s raining pieces of me
Remnants of clay
Daring yet delicate
I keep your voice at bay
They call me blood red
They call me half breed
My doom is a’waiting
At least that’s what they said
They call me blood red
They call me steamhead
My demons are a’swinging
I keep them all well fed
I forgive you my majesty
For the crimes you did
The sight of you still lingers
Concealed inside my lid
My teeth are grinding demons
My breath fully steamed
I await in my slumber
For my heart to be redeemed
They call me blood red
They call me half breed
My doom is a’waiting
At least that’s what they said
They call me blood red
They call me steam head
My demons are a’swinging
I keep them all well fed
They call me blood red
They call me steamhead
My doom is awaiting
At least that’s what they said
They call me blood red
They call me devil-wed
My gaze may be dreamy
Yet my voice is full of dread
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5. |
Velvet Demon
04:54
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6. |
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Bleeding Thoughts, Carving Ghost
The swans danced before me, queens of grace and lust
I trembled and I fell into my black waters
My arms stretched ghastly for a single touch
The skin was scorched, my hands crippled
Bleeding thoughts, carving ghost
Bleeding thoughts, carving ghost
Still the scar burns at night
As I cry a swarm of flies
And I carry my burdens in a box
For all to see their sullen gleam
I am full of steam
Bleeding thoughts, carving ghost
Bleeding thoughts, carving ghost
Bleeding thoughts, carving ghost
Bleeding thoughts, carving ghost
The silver boy is blowing bubbles
His majesty is growing
The silver boy still blowing bubbles
Soon to devour the room
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7. |
I Am Champagne
05:12
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I Am Champagne
As the prancing pedestrian I am
I walk the sinner’s lane
The rebel’s ocean and the neon highway
To the dunes of gold
To the mirage king
Where we float as one
The liquid demon
I taunt God to a tantrum
With my vivid tempest
With female mimicry and sly looks
To show our might in mockery
Force feed his majesty
With nuclear biscuits and toxic tea
I am champagne
Mister champagne
A fist full of fame
As the son of Satan
Men who have tasted my liquid gold
I leave lusting for severe desires
Omnipotent is my display
With a tainted grin
I excel in elegant deception
My masks are ever changing
I will remove the heart you carry
To replace it with my own
I am champagne
Mister champagne
A fist full of fame
As the son of Satan
I am champagne in your mouth
Exploding with delight
Welcome me as the embryo
And I’ll show you the pleasures in pain
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8. |
Suicide Sitcom
05:08
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Suicide Sitcom
Revel in neon tragedy
The highest state of misery
Red fluid flows on flickery
Hope lost in life’s trickery
Cold meat for the masses
Courtesy by broadcast thrashers
Withering hour at prime time
Another death another dime
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9. |
Vendetta
06:18
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Vendetta
A fountain of virulent black thoughts
Enshrine on my pale skin
A shivering song of red words
From a ghastly choir of lost kin
Vendetta
And the children sing
Vendetta
Feel the weaver sting
Internal vibrant dissonance
Conspiracy erupts by night
A spiral of bleeding thoughts
As the demons take flight
Vendetta
And the children sing
Vendetta
Feel the weaver sting
Crimes of the strange weaver
Like fluids in a dream
Carry the heart of the deceiver
Escape on a wave of steam
Vendetta
And the children sing
Vendetta
Feel the weaver sting
So the voices stopped humming
Red hands shiver of lust
Eyes flicker like flitter-mice
And the soul is full of dust
And the children fell silent
And the children fell silent
And the children fell silent
And the children fell silent
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10. |
The Last Wave
05:30
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The Last Wave
His majesty sculpted the children
With porcelain faces and liquid smiles
His majesty gave sound to their voices
The seething syllable choir
The last wave, the last wave
A spitfire of flies, hear the children sing
The last wave, the last wave
See his demons prance, and the water’s running backwards
His majesty floats on the scorching dunes
In the dry rebel’s ocean
His majesty coagulates the vibrant air
And the children fall silent
The last wave, the last wave
Vile words of dissonance, the children fled in horror
The last wave, the last wave
His demons lost in reverie, and the sea stood still
Littered through his desert
The sculptures of the dormant
Monuments of a rusty psyche
Awaiting a new dawn
Awaiting the redeemer
The black wave
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11. |
Phantom Lodge
04:50
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The sordid waves of squealing children
The obscure images of a liquid grin
The shriek of an owl splits the heart
The waiting room leaves you stretched and thin
A journey through mirrors and sand
Stray but once, the road to doom
The flux of the phantom lodge lies within
This blood red, swinging and fluent room
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Bjeima Oslo, Norway
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