album: "Sopor Aeternus" (1993)

Birth - Fiendish Figuration Tanz Der Grausamkeit Time Stand Still Do You Know My Name?

album: "Ehieh Ascher Ehieh" (1995)

Anima (I & II) Shadowsphere (II) Saltatio Crudelitatis (E Tanz Der Grausamkeit) Freitod-Phantasien

album: "Todeswunsch" (1995)

Flesh Crucifix Die Bruderschaft Des Schmerzes Shadowsphere Shadowsphere (II) Saltatio Crudelitatis (Der Tanz Der Grausamkeit) Soror Sui Excidium The Devil's Instrument Todeswunsch Drama Der Geschlechtslosigkeit Freitod-Phantasien Saturn-Impressionen Somnambulist's Secret Bardo-Life Not Dead But Dying Only The Dead In The Mist This Profane Finality Cage Within A Cage...

album: "The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller" (1997)

To A Loyal Friend The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller Memalon Memories Are Haunted Places Synchronicity Totenlicht May I Kiss Your Wound?

album: "Voyager - The Jugglers of Jusa" (1997)

The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller: A Fragment (2) Ein Freundliches Wort Hat Meine Seele Berhrt (Defined & Fragile) Memalon (2) Alone (- The Innocence Of Devils) 1 Modela Est Birth Feralia Gentiatalia (Arrival Of The Jugglers) Saturn-Impressionen (Jusa, Jusa) May I Kiss Your Wound? (Saturn : Orion) Alone (- The Innocence Of Devils) 2 The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller: A Fragment

album: "Dead Lovers' Sarabande - Face One" (1999)

Across The Bridge On Satur(n)days We Used To Sleep Hades "Pluton"

Sieh', Mein Geliebter, Hier Hab' Ich Gift Ich Wollte Hinaus In Den Garten Gebet: An Die Glcklichen Eroberer Lament / Totenklage The Sleeper Die Knochenblume Inschrift / Epitaph All Good Things Are Eleven

album: "Dead Lovers' Sarabande - Face Two" (1999)

Abschied The Dog Burial The House Is Empty Now No-one Is There Procession / Funeral March Va(r)nitas, Vanitas... (...Omnia Vanitas) The Hourglass Transfiguration Has He Come To Test Me? If Loneliness Was All Daffodils

album: "Ich Tte Mich Jedesmal Aufs Neue..." (1999)

Travel on Breath (The Breath Of The World) Falling Into Different Flesh Birth-Fiendish Figuration Tanz Der Grausamkeit Im Garten Des Nichts (A Secret Light In The Garden Of My Void) Time Stands Still... (...But Stops For No-One) Do you know my Name? (Falling ...- reprise) Penance & Pain Holy Water Moonlight Beautiful Thorn The Feast of Blood Dark Delight(s) Baptisma Birth-Fiendish Figuration (Demo Version)

album: "Songs From The Inverted Womb" (2000)

Something Wicked This Way Comes... Tales From The Inverted Womb Do You Know About The Water Of Life? ...And Bringer Of Sadness Rsum... Totes Kind / Little Dead Boy May I Kiss Your Wound? Saturn Devouring His Children There Was A Country By The Sea Little Velveteen Knight Eldorado

album: "Es Reiten Die Toten So Schnell" (2003)

Omen Sinistrum Dead Souls Stake Of My Soul Beautiful Thorn Baptisma The Feast Of Blood Sopor Fratrem Mortis Est The Dreadful Mirror

Reprise Birth - Fiendish Figuration Penance & Pain Holy Water Moonlight Infant ber Den Fluss Dark Delight

EP: "Flowers In Formaldehyde" (2004)

In An Hour Darkly The Conqueror Worm Minnesang Von der Einfalt Hearse-Shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter Leeches & Deception Extract From: The Voices Of The Dead Do You Know My Name?

album: "La Chambre D'Echo" (2004)

The Encoded Cloister Backbone Practise Idleness & Consequence Beyond The Wall Of Sleep Imhotep Hearse-shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter Interlude - The Quiet Earth We Have A Dog To Exercise The Lion's Promise Leeches & Deception The Skeletal Garden Feed The Birds Consolatrix Has Left The Building Day Of The Dead

album: "Les Fleurs Du Mal" (2007)

Architecture (All That's Erected Are The Walls) Always Within The Hour In Der Palaestra A Little Bar Of Soap Bitter Sweet Our Lady Of The Broken Hearts La Mort D'Arthur The Simple Joys Of Maidenhood Helvetia Sexualis Les Fleurs Du Mal Shave If You Love Me Some Men Are Like Chocolate The Virgin Queen

album: "Sanatorium Altrosa (Musical Therapy For Spiritual Dysfunction)" (2008)

Consider This: The True Meaning Of Love Architecture II Shave, If You Love Me (Remix) La Mort D' Arthur The Conqueror Worm II In Der Palastra Collision - You May Lie On Your Back, If You Want To ... Even Close Your Eyes To Sleep Les Fleurs Du Mal

Bitter Sweet Consider This: The True Meaning Of Love

EP: "A Triptychon Of Ghosts Part One - A Strange Thing 2 Say" (2010)
A Strange Thing To Say Polishing Silver The Urine Song Stains Of You 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea (Or: The History Of Steampunk... - Abridged) Oh, Chimney Sweep

album: "A Triptychon Of Ghosts Part Two - Have You Seen This Ghost?" (2011)
I Don't Believe In Ghosts One Day My Prince Will Come Cornuscopia d'Amour It Is Safe To Sleep Alone Hello At The Stroke Of Midnight Gently Starlight Seen Through Veils Of Tears Powder Angel Of The Golden Fountain Where The Ancient Laurel Grows I Fell For One Who Loves Me Not Holding Out For A Hero The Hours Of Sadness

album: "A Triptychon Of Ghosts Part Three - Children Of The Corn" (2011)
Children Of The Corn Bis Zum Hahnenschrei Cornflowers The Curse Of The Mummy Night Of The Scarecrow To Walk Behind The Rows Harvest Moon

album: "Sopor Aeternus" (1993)

Birth - Fiendish Figuration Tanz Der Grausamkeit Time Stand Still Do You Know My Name?

1. Birth - Fiendish Figuration

Exposed with hands as empty as the opposite space, crawling we move to where the final station lies,

to whom is the debt that we are forced to pay...? Real forces dare to appear only when we turn away, truth reveals itself Reveal yourself! A face ordained to hypocrites, we know the masks, their artificial smiles, "Mind's black eyes should break the lies!" Distorted pictures are all transparent to us, phantasmagoria... such a useful weapon, ineffectual against us, enemies, with the knowledge of truth... ...truth makes me sick, what a wretched play! Paralyezed by flesh and bones, condemned to vegetate, condemned to stay alone Helplessy we are escaping, we're dinging to.. . stranded ashore, "Oh, beloved infamous side!" Our distress in perfections, trials and tribulation, preferring our pain, we'll stay and die...

2. Tanz Der Grausamkeit

Tongue of silence, lick my lips, steal my thoughts, steal my pride. My soul lies offered as I'm waiting, intoxicate me when you step inside... Hold my hands, my hands are trembling, your charming beauty takes my breath, fragrant perfumes veil my senses, hold my hands sweet tormentress. Out of darkness we call came from, flight from darkness is in vain, I am the banquet, I am delicious. Into darkness we'll fall back again. Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen,

an diesem Ort kann ich nicht sein. Strecke mich nieder, zerschlage mein Haupt, Meister des Mordes, schenke mir den Tod... Meister des Mordes, erhre mein Flehen, beende die Leiden, nimm den Schmerz von mir. ffne die Tore, es ist fr mich Zeit. Meister des Mordes, dieser Tanz ist Grausamkeit... Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, gefangen im Fleische, erbrmlich und alt. Fhre mich fort in die Dunkelheit, Vater meiner Seele, dieser Tanz iest Grausamkeit. Vater meiner Seele, rei mich in den Tod... ...Es tut mir leid.

3. Time Stand Still

That little mountain raises (silently) while other dissolve into a plain time redefines itself (irrationally) and falls in sadness grain by grain... "Time heals all the wounds" The two-tongued echo seems to say but nothing, nothing changes still pain remains, won't pass away. I went weak, as I grew old and time itself has made me slow and as I close my hand in darkness a thousand seasons come and go... Mighty enought to cover all and also cruel enough to reveal but the wounds and scars I carry neither force nor kiss can heal... No, Time heals nothing, nothing, nothing spitefully turns away and laughts leaves you half-broken and defiance is only added another scar...

Call it "blind" how I am writhing counting hours, centuries the pain it grows and glows in tides unable to vanish, unwilling to cease... No, Time heals nothing, nothing, nothing pushes 'till we're diping into different flesh time heals nothing, nothing, nothing just a polarity of inner flames... Time's finger claw, I'm losing hold there is no hope for me on earth Time either still or maybe rushing in any case it will turn out worse... Time is fleeting, Time stands still it stops for no-one, and we're trapped within thought I may dream of the Light I am falling back into the left-hand side... How I wish that I was dead and rest in final peace but even the Luxury of Death can't cure the wounds Time cannot heal...

album: "Ehieh Ascher Ehieh" (1995)

Anima (I & II) Shadowsphere (II) Saltatio Crudelitatis (E Tanz Der Grausamkeit) Freitod-Phantasien

1. Anima (I & II)

The Woman I am no mirror can see, My breast are still small and my voice is so deep. The Woman I am unable (she cannot) feel love, I wish to cut my genitals and feed them to the dogs. The woman I am prepared to receive the pain. The needles shall burn only the ugly remains. Suppression is impossible, I must live it out, My true self is female how could I ever doubt...

2. Shadowsphere (II)
Black wall eat up my life and suffocate, This is a sad day in the Shadosphere... Two suns are dancing cruelly in the dark, Forcefully swimming through-out this space...

3. Saltatio Crudelitatis (E Tanz Der Grausamkeit)

Tongue of silence, lick my lips, steal my thoughts, steal my pride. My soul lies offered as I'm waiting, intoxicate me when you step inside... Hold my hands, my hands are trembling, your charming beauty takes my breath, fragrant perfumes veil my senses, hold my hands sweet tormentress. Out of darkness we call came from, flight from darkness is in vain, I am the banquet, I am delicious. Into darkness we'll fall back again. Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, an diesem Ort kann ich nicht sein. Strecke mich nieder, zerschlage mein Haupt, Meister des Mordes, schenke mir den Tod... Meister des Mordes, erhre mein Flehen, beende die Leiden, nimm den Schmerz von mir. ffne die Tore, es ist fr mich Zeit. Meister des Mordes, dieser Tanz ist Grausamkeit... Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, gefangen im Fleische, erbrmlich und alt. Fhre mich fort in die Dunkelheit, Vater meiner Seele, dieser Tanz iest Grausamkeit. Vater meiner Seele, rei mich in den Tod... ...Es tut mir leid.

4. Freitod-Phantasien
Two half figures stand ashore the darkest lake embraced by cold

veils of mist and icy breath blows the leaves away... And the old black trees spread their long dead arms. As the souls of the dead call across the water they both step down into the coldest depth...

4. Do You Know My Name?

I shattered all the mirrors fearfully hoping that they won't be able to remember my face. Darkest of all lights most greedy to embrace surrounded by demons and breathing in life... "I don't want to be a perverted temple of my Lord... thought His hand I am I have forgotten how to bear or understand His word..." Between the tides the time seems endlessly the force of habit or whatever pulled me back into a well-known pain. What uses the knowledge of my progression when the old world is gone without a new in sight, with my new found life I am homeless again... "I don't want to be a perverted temple of my Lord... thought His hand I am I have forgotten how to bear or understand His word..." I am falling down back to the lowest spheres... Do you know my name? Did you answer I just cannot hear...

album: "Todeswunsch" (1995)

Flesh Crucifix Die Bruderschaft Des Schmerzes Shadowsphere Shadowsphere (II) Saltatio Crudelitatis (Der Tanz Der Grausamkeit) Soror Sui Excidium The Devil's Instrument Todeswunsch Drama Der Geschlechtslosigkeit

Freitod-Phantasien Saturn-Impressionen Somnambulist's Secret Bardo-Life Not Dead But Dying Only The Dead In The Mist This Profane Finality Cage Within A Cage...

1. Flesh Crucifix
Mors voluntaria venerabilis es dea me suaviari cum labris frigorum tu obscurissima omnes deorum...

2. Die Bruderschaft Des Schmerzes

By a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only, where an Eidolon named "Night", on a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly, from an ultimate dim Thule. from a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, out of space, out of time. Bottomless wales and boundless floods, and chasms and caves, and titan woods, with forms that no man can discover for the tears that drip all over, Mountains topling evermore into seas without a shore seas that restlessly aspire, surging into skies of fire. Lakes that endlessly outspread their lone waters, lone and dead. Their still waters, still and chilly with the snows of the lolling lilly. By the lakes that thus outspread their lone water, lone and dead. Their sad waters, sad and chilly with the snows of the lolling lilly, by the mountains, near the river murmuring slowly, murmuring ever by the grey woods, by the swamp where the toad and the newt encamp, by the dismal tarns and pools where dwell the Ghouls, by each spot that most unholy, in each nook most melancholy,

there the traveller meets, aghast, sheeted memories of the past, shrouded forms that start and sigh as they pass the wanderer by, white-robed forms of friends long given, in agony, to Earth and Heaven. For the heart whose woes are legion this is peaceful, soothing region, for the spirit that walks in shadows this is, oh, this is Eldorado! Bid the traveller, travelling through it, may not dare not opening view it never its mysteries are exposed to the weak human eye unclosed, so will its King who hath forbid the uplifting of the frigid lid, and thus the sad soul that here passes beholds it but through darkened glasses. By a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only, where an Eidolon, named "Night", on a black throne reigns upright, I have wandered home but newly from an ultimate dim Thule. Dreamland...

3. Shadowsphere
This is a sad day here in the world of shades but even pain has its own beauty even pain can perform a lovely face. Blinding stream, double-edged, in an extra-terrestrial gloom, beautiful creation of steel grown in my barren womb... They way into the light will separate me from my flesh, myriads in their birth-giving red swimming forcefully through-out space. This darkest space is wide and the mountain is still so high, fly up my black little eyes and cross the frontiers that dare to define my life... No space too vast and surely no place too far, the groping sister feels that her eyes must be somewhere alive. So she is afraid of all the dwellers of the dark in their blindness they will never understand the tempting gift of sight. This place is cold, blindly she can feel

the dead wind caressing the rocks from high above they come way down, these angels kissing our undead bodies to stone...

4. Shadowsphere (II)
Black wall eat up my life and suffocate, This is a sad day in the Shadosphere... Two suns are dancing cruelly in the dark, Forcefully swimming through-out this space....

5. Saltatio Crudelitatis (Der Tanz Der Grausamkeit)

Tongue of silence, lick my lips, steal my thoughts, steal my pride. My soul lies offered as I'm waiting, intoxicate me when you step inside... Hold my hands, my hands are trembling, your charming beauty takes my breath, fragrant perfumes veil my senses, hold my hands sweet tormentress. Out of darkness we call came from, flight from darkness is in vain, I am the banquet, I am delicious. Into darkness we'll fall back again. Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, an diesem Ort kann ich nicht sein. Strecke mich nieder, zerschlage mein Haupt, Meister des Mordes, schenke mir den Tod... Meister des Mordes, erhre mein Flehen, beende die Leiden, nimm den Schmerz von mir. ffne die Tore, es ist fr mich Zeit. Meister des Mordes, dieser Tanz ist Grausamkeit... Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, gefangen im Fleische, erbrmlich und alt. Fhre mich fort in die Dunkelheit, Vater meiner Seele, dieser Tanz iest Grausamkeit. Vater meiner Seele, rei mich in den Tod... ...Es tut mir leid.

6. Soror Sui Excidium

"Step into my thought, blades sharp and long !" While I dared to gaze inside myself and caught a glimpse of what... yes, perform your own destruction and I feel the same delight share the wish to die. Spiritualized this "Death is a mental state". still anguish is his name. Fill me up with your chill, alone in my emptiness, gratefully I'll receive your pain. Unworthy to some light I long to embrace you fire. I'll be the tomb where you spread your seed and along with your blosson I shall expire... Leave me alone, can't you leave me alone, the unclean presence of flesh, I just cannot bear ! A ballet, well balanced, between pain and foregiveness it won't collide and if I'm crushed by I do not care, I do no longer care... No-one will ever recognize my fall and if someone accidentially did, he wouldn't waste a thought, No, would not spare a single thought. I cannot think of a reason why I should remain, only their "faces" might alter but my desperation will stay the same... (it even increases with time...) The barriers of the gate have simply desoved within my tears, the Lord of the Dark Side though shapeless, he waits for my... "Behold, my beloved, I'll always belong to thee". I died for you, for you I'll die, together in a realm of the infinite night, I died for you, and for you I will die, blessed be those that dwell in your light... Hand in hand in hand in hand, lifeless I can finally understand Embraced to intimately, beloved Sister of Selfdestruction. YOU ARE INSIDE OF ME...

7. The Devil's Instrument

Thoughts are spinning their inescapable threads transforming us cruelly into marionettes. Everything I feel is pain and the Devil holds us in his hands. Buried desperately in my chest a rose for myself and a rose for the dead. A serenade of tears, lifelessly we feel the beat, though no orchestra is there to be seen... I am you, I am you - you are me, what I am, what are you - who are we ? What is truth and what is lie, who are you and what am I? In a cradle of mercy we are sleeping the half-sleep of oblivion. No holy water could wash away our faults nor do benediction purify our unclean souls. The gates remain locked for the wingless children of wrath, so long ago splintered and trodden down us children of glass... Please, my Lord, extinguish the light, the illumination hurts my eyes. My choice was wrong, so wrong: truly everything is pain... We are crying with wolves like stone we are sleeping with the dead; soon we'll be gone and you're left the instrument...

8. Todeswunsch
Chill is dripping silently, I am drowning in myself. My hope has left me alone and barren, my grave - the only loving place. I hate my own loathsome smell, this stench and old-age and maledorous fear. How I hate each mortal cell that is rottingly existing deep inside of me... I cannot bear the sun so I close me eyes, it is the perfect day to end this wretched life. Give me the reason to life so that I might laugh at least I'll try in bitterness... Stop the waiting, the cruel waiting for nothing.

All I want is to forget, finally in Sleep of Death... I could die just like a christian. I could fade away in sleep but I want to die for someone, for the one who waits for me. I long to be a sacrifice for the Lord, my Lord of the Darkest Side. Everyday is a perfect day, a perfect day for suicide...! Deliver me from the mindless crowd when steps grow dumb behind my back. Save me from their poisoned locks harassing like daggers through my neck... Here, where it's like hell to exist only Death can bring salvation. Please, release me from my chains that crucify me to my eternal tribulation. Here, where even my own image is spitting, where I have to hide my face. Where the distress seems so endlessly, in this god-forsaken place... In a former time in a long forgotten place, when the masks and the faces had been identical twins. As our sanctuaries were locked to hypocritical lies now befouled they lay bare as they stalked in so well gisguised... Suicide, sweet suicide deepest darkness veils my eyes... Suicide, sweet suicide jet-black darkness clouds my mind... Suicide, sweet suicide Deepest darkness in my heart... Suicide, sweet suicide my unclean soul, I know no light...

9. Drama Der Geschlechtslosigkeit

Bin weder Mann, noch bin ich Frau, bin irgendwo zwischendrin, Wei nicht wohin ich gehre, Wei nicht was ich bin... Traurigkeit erfllt meine Seele in jedem einzelnen Augenblick, was vor mir liegt kann ich nicht sehen, doch ich wei es gibt kein Zurck... Bin wie zwlf Seelen, die begraben sind

in einem sich bewegendem Fleisch. Zwlf grundverschiedenen Hlften, zu deren Kombination es wohl niemals reicht...

10. Freitod-Phantasien
Two half figures stand ashore the darkest lake embraced by cold veils of mist and icy breath blows the leaves away... And the old black trees spread their long dead arms. As the souls of the dead call across the water they both step down into the coldest depth...

11. Saturn-Impressionen
Der kalte See liegt schweigend im Nebel und ewig wird er sein. Sie alle hat er bereits empfangen, und auch ich tauche bald in seine Fluten ein. Die Zeit, sie liegt schon weit zurck, als das Erste von uns sank in die Tief hier. Die blauen Leiber einsam faulend, nur ihre Stimmen rufen nach mir. Dies ist mein Schicksal und mein Verlangen, sein kaltes Grab ist mein Pflicht. Ich bin ein Letztes meines Geschlechts, und ich wei er warted schon auf mich...

12. Somnambulist's Secret Bardo-Life

I have no body and I feel no pain for I am no longer here again. Now I can fly through-out the widest space finally I'm set free from all my chains. A farewell to heaven and a farewell to old hell, from now on we shall never meet again. Neither light nor darkness are here to know my way, there'll be no more sadness and there'll no more pain. I can fly, yes, I can fly and I'm no longer here,

may this old flesh stay down there forever, I shall not waste a thought. No, I do no longer care..

13. Not Dead But Dying

Take my hand in the old 'Theatre Of Seven Hells', a ferry that bowed its wings, we call Her: 'Moon by Day'. Life - a book of painful tongue that hurts our ears. Flowers of the end, their seed shall grow. Your breath shall be my coat, the underworld is, oh, so cold. The dead don't feel chill, but please, hold me warm. The aweful night has gone; what lay before... we can't remember. Even Morpheus has drowned in the lament of his own weeping shadow...

14. Only The Dead In The Mist

Old, senseless thoughts half frozen in loneliness, faster and faster we're spinning in circles; imprisoned in pain, floating without sound, the death in the mist aimlessly wandering around. Our sad eyes say: "We have lost our view !" Dead souls without rest, the graves are lonely and cold. But the promised peace I'm afraid we'll never find, for this place it lies so far beyond the cruelest light...

15. This Profane Finality

Bury me deep in the blackest earth drunken on maggots, home of thousand worms. Nail me up into the blackest coffin and bed me down into the deepest pit. Shrouded I am waiting for me cold friends the final beasts.

You living off the lonely dead, the moist and voluntary feast. Sweet death, come kiss me softly and please, please open the door for me. It's just another grateful dead, so please, let me enter and stay. Forever... Pain and torment, do what you want with me, oh, I don't care, I don't care. I do no longer care... Like ancient wraiths they seem to be, the others come to welcome me. "Receive the new desciple in the dance of dread!" Soulless figures swaying to the beautiful Sounds of Death... Forever...

16. Cage Within A Cage...

Wieder nur ein Kfig innerhalb eines Kfigs, und jegliches Erwachen ist nur grausame Illusion, ewig gefangen in der eigenen Traum; uschung, wie der trgerische Traum innerhalb eines Traums...

album: "The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller" (1997)

To A Loyal Friend The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller Memalon Memories Are Haunted Places Synchronicity Totenlicht May I Kiss Your Wound?

1. To A Loyal Friend
Once there was a time, when the conquest of pain was all that I could hope for, had been my only aim. Happiness or joy merely unwords without meaning, they were unwanted anyway as surely out of place.

All I wanted was the voices to be silent a brief moment in the dark, in loneliness and chill. How I wished my mind could escape the camat dungeon that was flying silently through space while I lay caged and chained within. Today my view - strangely increased - it is beyond compare, but nothing became easier, I'm still struggling to be free. A thousand different things dare to appear before my eyes now, they come and leave untouched, because still I cannot see. In true darkness there's no choice than do discover the uselessness of eyes, giving birth from their own despair. Here eyes can nothing but decay and if I fail and do identify myself with them then their destiny I'll share... You are with me all the time - all the time. So very unreasonable had been my fear. How could I ever believe that I might be losing you when forever we're connected and you are part of me. It's your omnipresence that defines the way in which I do exist, forcefully leading me back to where I do belong. Opening my eyes to see the true essence of my being, by dissolving the distractions of the outer world. In the loneliness of the pain you bring the isolation of my soul guarantees the maintenance of the only thing that I know, my natural and obvious differency. Beloved old friend and life-time companion without you to nothing I would fall. Your power pervades me and lies

me low, but as the same time a new strenght is born in my soul. In a universe of change and continuous movement I am counting on you since I know you shall last. Being my darkness and the basis of splendor light-giving background as most fertile past. You trance-formation source of understanding you are the power that is pulling me down. Whenever lightness seeks to carry me away you connect me safely to the ground. You chill of my winter, eternal Saturn-sphere, petrified and frozen with a logic cold as ice I walk through the world look in surprise at the living without being able to share their strange delights. Beloved old friend, and bringer of sadness, shadow-like cloak almost matters so real, you slip right through me like I was merely membrane, my feelings so ambivalent when my wounds refuse to heal...

2. The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller

[a fragment] Alles ist nur Illusion und von mir erschaffen, Doch ich vermag ihr nicht zu entflieh'n, Bin in meinem eigenen Trugbild gefangen, Und meine armen Augen erkennen kein Ziel. Die Antwort kann niemals im Aussen sein, Sie liegt stets im Innern, schlft tief in mir drin,

Doch welches Auge schaut hinein, Ich brauche ein neues Auge, Einen neuen Sinn. Die Zeit ist wie ein Ort und Gleichsam ein Zustand, Und ich bin darin, denn ich bin ihr Quell, Gefangen in meiner eigenen Schpfung, Auf der verzweifelten Suche nach meinem wahren Selbst...

3. Memalon
Who is the old man, who fills my heart with greatest pain yet his name remains unheard? I look at you and true tears shake my eternal Saturnworld. Who is the old man, whose picture burned itself down to the bottom of my soul. You push me back and raise me up, the criteria for both I long to know. Who are you I worship? What is the name of the one I saw? Tell me how to reach you, to you I'd bow my head in awe. You speak to me but what is it I hear? We have never really touched... - such is the design of my greatest fear. Cruel, cruel, cruel... a veil I cannot penetrate, in different worlds we dwell, attempting to dissolve what separates. I force my face against this strangest membrane-wall and desperately I call for you from the darkest depths of my lonely soul. The mist of the dimensions through which to glance it seems not allowed, or maybe it's just that our "level" is of no interest as it is simply too low. Is it true that only the mirrors' strength can conquer the mist and then be therefore received? You turn around the illusion of a voice... - my desire crowned by another defeat. If doubt walks in I am growing weak in fear... - "one day all pictures fade". Lying down, looking inside I call my dead lover in his grave. My eyes have caught a glimpse of you,

now I devour myself to embrace your peace. The distance grows, we drift apart. What is the use of eyes if they cannot see? Hear me in my darkness, please wait for me, I'll find the way. I promise, I shall resist the tides, until I'm finally united with you again...

4. Memories Are Haunted Places

Exposed with hands as empty as the opposite space, crawling we move to where the final station lies, to whom is the debt that we are forced to pay...? Real forces dare to appear only when we turn away, truth reveals itself Reveal yourself! A face ordained to hypocrites, we know the masks, their artificial smiles, "Mind's black eyes should break the lies!" Distorted pictures are all transparent to us, phantasmagoria... such a useful weapon, ineffectual against us, enemies, with the knowledge of truth... ...truth makes me sick, what a wretched play! Paralyezed by flesh and bones, condemned to vegetate, condemned to stay alone Helplessy we are escaping, we're dinging to.. . stranded ashore, "Oh, beloved infamous side!" Our distress in perfections, trials and tribulation, preferring our pain, we'll stay and die...

5. Synchronicity
Saturn-Orion, Saturn-Orion into the night, we call Saturn-Orion beyond this darkness sense Jupiter arise travelling in silence we tranvce-form our minds beyond this darkness sense Jupiter's rise mit offenem Geiste werden mit EINS

6. Totenlicht
Den Raum verndernd schlie' ich meine Augen. Ich reise, doch ich bewege mich nicht auf der Suche nach Dir, der Du es verstehst, wie man sich meinem Bewutsein erfolgreich entzieht. Das Ziel meiner Reise sollst Du sein, diesseits formloser Grenzen, die niemand kennt. Traurigstes aller Universen, in dem nur ich existiere, doch vom Leben getrennt.

7. May I Kiss Your Wound?

May I kiss your wound, maybe that will heal my soul. Free me from this tomb, light my darkness make me (whole) let me take your hand and together we shall fly to a lonely place, where as lovers we can die. In a land so dark, seven moons, eternal nights, wish a sky of thousand stars, yes for us there is no light... There (waits) no lights.

album: "Voyager - The Jugglers of Jusa" (1997)

The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller: A Fragment (2) Ein Freundliches Wort Hat Meine Seele Berhrt (Defined & Fragile) Memalon (2) Alone (- The Innocence Of Devils) 1 Modela Est Birth Feralia Gentiatalia (Arrival Of The Jugglers) Saturn-Impressionen (Jusa, Jusa) May I Kiss Your Wound? (Saturn : Orion) Alone (- The Innocence Of Devils) 2 The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller: A Fragment

1. The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller: A Fragment (2)

Alles ist nur Illusion und von mir erschaffen, doch Ich vermag ihr nicht zu entflieh'n, bin in meinem eignen Trugbild gefangen, und meine armen Augen erkennen kein Ziel. die Antwort kann niemals im Auen sein, sie liegt stets im Innern, schlaft in mir drin, doch welches Auge schaut hinein, ich brauche ein neues Auge, einen neuen Sinn. die Zeit ist wie ein Ort und gleichsam ein Zustand und ich bin darin, denn ich bin ihr Quell, gefangen in meiner eigenen Schpfung, auf der verzweifelten Suche nach meinem wahren Selbst...

2. Ein Freundliches Wort Hat Meine Seele Berhrt (Defined & Fragile)
" `s wird wohl ein Tag wie all die ander'n werden" so sagt' ich mir, war innerlich bereit die blen Worte aufs neue zu ertragen, den tglich' Spott, das altbekannte Leid. Doch zaubrisch, mcht'ge Dinge die knnen jederzeit gescheh'n, mit off'nem Herz und Sinn'en kann sterblich' Aug' sie seh'n... Als ich dort sa, des Zuges kommen harrte, da sah ich sie, die ich in Kindertagen kannt'. schnell schaut' ich weg, kaum einen Gru erwartend, wohl wissend, da die "Masse" manch' Erinn'rung gern' verbannt. Doch vorbestimmte Dinge ereignen, man glaubt es kaum. Selts'am, unerwartet, schwerlich den eig'nen Ohr'n zu trau'n. "Ach, sag kenn' ich dich nicht?", sprach sie, mir gegenber als sie Platz nahm, trotz eines fast leeren Abteils. "Bist du nicht die, welche als einz'ge mit mir spielte,

als ich neu war fremd und damals so allein. Ich mchte mich gerne nun bei dir bedanken fr deine lieben Worte, als sonst keiner mit mir sprach. Seit Jahren schon spr' ich das Verlangen dir zu offenbar'n wie wertvoll deine Hilfe war. Aus Ungarn kam ich, kannt' niemand, nur du spieltest mit mir. Du gabst mir Kraft, und endlich heute dank ich dir dafr. Von weitem hab' ich dich ja schon so oft geseh'n, doch irgendwie hab' ich mich nie richtig getraut. Deiner Reaktion war ich mir nicht ganz sicher zahlreich sind die Gerchte, siehst du doch so seltsam aus." In der Stadt. angekommen schaute sie auf ihre Uhr und sprach: "Ich hab' noch Zeit woll'n wir 'nen Kaffee trinken geh'n?" "Uuh, auf keinen Fall, Darling. Ich trinke niemals Kaffee, doch eine Tasse Tee", meint' ich, "wr' jetzt durchaus schon". Und so zogen wir los ohne festes Ziel und suchten nach einem angemess'nem Ort. doch in dem ersten Caf wollt man uns nicht bedienen, starrt' uns bs' nur an, und so gingen wir fort. Zwei Gassen weiter..., ein Gasthof ward gefunden, die Zeit verging, also kehrten wir ein. Gar viel junges Volk war hier versammelt speiste...rauchte, sprach und starrte... - zum Glck war ich nicht allein. Ja, schicksalhafte Wege, ein wundervoll Geschenk von bltig gnstig' Geisterhnden meine Schritte war'n gelenkt.... Ja, aus freien Stcken htt' solch' Ort ich nie besucht denn was dort zu erwarten ist, ich wei es nur zu gut....ein Mann gehllt in Schwrze ein heies Mahl verzehrend, er sa mir gegenber an einem ander'n Tisch und fr den intimsten, flucht'gen Augenblick schauten wir uns an, und uns're Blicke trafen sich. So vllig unerwartet, mein Innerstes berhrt den Dornenwall durchdrungen, und Lebenskraft gesprt... und als wir gehen muten, wartete er auf mich, er kam zu uns herber, er kam an uns'ren Tisch. "Ich mu dir etwas sagen, sonst kann ich noch nicht geh'n. Was immer and're denken, ich find' dich wunderschn!" oh, welch ein Zaubermantel, der nun machtvoll mich umgab, der zaubrisch mich erhhte und schenkte neue Kraft. fr zwei volle Tage erfllt' mich jene Macht, und alle bsen Worte, sie perlten an mir ab. Gar tief in meinem Herzen beht' ich jenes Glck, und in den dunklen Stunden denk' ich daran zurck...!

3. Memalon (2)
Who is the old man, who fills my heart with greatest pain yet his name remains unheard?

I look at you and true tears shake my eternal saturnworld. Who is the old man, whose picture burned itself down to the bottom of my soul. You push me back and raise me up, the criteria for both I long to know. Who are you I worship? what is the name of the one i saw? tell me how to reach you, to you I'd bow my head in awe. You speak to me, but what is it I hear? we have never really touched... Such is the design of my greatest fear. Cruel, cruel, cruel... a veil I cannot penetrate, in different worlds we dwell, attempting to dissolve what seperates. I force my face against this strangest membrane-wall and desperately I call for you from the darkest depths of my lonely soul. The mist of the dimensions through which to glance it seems not allowed, or maybe it's just that our "level" is of no interest as it is simply too low. Is it true that only the mirror's strength can conquer the mist and then be therefore received? you turn around the illusion of a voice... My desire crowned by another defeat. If doubt walks in I am growing weak in fear... "One day all pictures fade". Lying down, looking inside I call my dead lover in his grave. My eyes have caught a glimpse of you, now I devour myself to embrace your peace. The distance grows, we drift apart. What is the use of eyes if they cannot see? hear me in my darkness, please wait for me, I'll find the way. I promise, I shall resist the tides, until I'm finally united with you again...

4. Alone (- The Innocence Of Devils) 1

[text: by E.A. Poe] From childhood's hour I have not been as others were - I have not seen as others saw - I could not bring my passions from a comon spring. From the same source I have not taken my sorrow; I could not awaken my heart to joy at the same tone. And all I lov'd I lov'd alone. Then - in my childhood - in the dawn of a most stormy life was drawn from every depth of good and ill the mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, from the red cliff of the mountain, from the sun that `round me roll'd in it's autumn tint of gold from the lightning in the sky as it pass'd me flying by from the thunder and the storm, and the cloud that took the form (when the rest of heaven was blue) of a demon in my view.

5. Modela Est
[text & music: Kraftwerk - Das Model]

Modela est specie pulchra est. Libenter hadie domum meam mecum eam auferam. Frigidam videtur auram tenere, neminem sibi patiens accedere, sed ante camera demonstrat artem suam. Vinum scatens bibit, recte, nocte in caupana, et in qua judicium de omnibus viris fecit. In juce arte facta lenis risus juvenilis fulget. Est pulchra specie, et pulchritudo, pecuniam fert. Se spectanda propnit pro producto qui mercandum est. Spectatur a milibus oculorum. Nova imago eius me effascinat. Revisenda mihi est, patior, consecuta est.

6. Birth
[instrumental]

7. Feralia Gentiatalia (Arrival Of The Jugglers)

I found myself in a room that resembled a bath, saw my image reflected, watched my genitals falling off. Oh, what a sight when I understood the fright and what it (really) was: -as the old shapedeceased the transformation increased...- "the unexpected path". I awoke in a room that was entirely bath. I found my body reflected while my genitals were rotting off. Like old leaves on a plant that came to nothing on demand, dried they had no juice. Hanging on a single thread, testicles of a dead, mummy-skin without use. I awoke in this room that was merely a bath. I saw my essence in a mirror while my genitals were falling off. Like old leaves on a plant that come off on demand, barren they had no juice. Hanging on a single thread, testicles of a dead, mummy-skin beyond use. "Shake, shake, shake"... the other side awakes! "(...) We are, we are, we are "the Jugglers of Jusa...!" The sensation was new and strange, but truly didn't feel any pain. I guess "neglection" activated this chance and I know it would not return again. There was no need to concern because in fact I could learn to let go and receive. Sensed being two in one, both woman and man great truth indeed! You know it is one aim of this life to balance the extremes and unite all the aspects that we wish to deny, from which we try to escape and hide. If you turn and face the strange then the monsters will change into guardians of strength and light. We'll be travelling the spheres of the universe.

Unser Herz und Geist sind befreit... " Shake, shake, shake"... until the other side awakes! La, la, la... - we are "the Jugglers of Jusa"

8. Saturn-Impressionen (Jusa, Jusa)

Der kalte See liegt schweigend im Nebel und ewig wird er sein. Sie alle hat er bereits empfangen, und auch ich tauche bald in seine Fluten ein. Die Zeit, sie liegt schon weit zurck, als das Erste von uns sank in die Tiefe hier. Die blauen Leiber einsam faulend, nur ihre Stimmen rufen nach mir. Dies ist mein Schicksal und mein Verlangen, sein kaltes Grab ist mein Pflicht. Ich bin ein Letztes meines Geschlechts, und ich wei er wartet schon auf mich...

9. May I Kiss Your Wound? (Saturn : Orion)

May I kiss your wound, maybe that will heal my soul. Free me from this tomb, light my darkness make me (whole) let me take your hand and together we shall fly to a lonely place, where as lovers we can die. In a land so dark, of seven moons, eternal night, with a sky of thousand stars, yet for us there is no light... There (waits) no lights.

10. Alone (- The Innocence Of Devils) 2

[see track 4]

11. The Inexperienced Spiral Traveller: A Fragment

[instrumental]

album: "Dead Lovers' Sarabande - Face One" (1999)

Across The Bridge On Satur(n)days We Used To Sleep Hades "Pluton" Sieh', Mein Geliebter, Hier Hab' Ich Gift Ich Wollte Hinaus In Den Garten Gebet: An Die Glcklichen Eroberer Lament / Totenklage The Sleeper Die Knochenblume Inschrift / Epitaph All Good Things Are Eleven

1. Across The Bridge

From far beyond the veil of sleep some ancient voice does seem to whisper my forgotten name weakly, yet solemnly. So remotely that one night think it had been but a dream, echo of some illusive call of fleeting memory. Yes, to believe such vain idea no problem it would be, if there was not this inscrutable unrest within me ... As if out of the deepest sea some creature seeks to rise, to wish its long denied existence back into my life. My secret name is whispered by a half-forgotten sigh and out of nothing, across my face, which is all petrified, Hot tears are running without end. A deeply troubling pain pulls me together inwardly, to be no more the same... From far beyond the veil of sleep some tune, ne'er before heard, is trav'lling on a fragile breath, to shake my frozen world.

2. On Satur(n)days We Used To Sleep

On Satur(n)days we used to sleep all motionless and still ...-While shrouded in an oppressive gloom we're handed over to the dream. A sleep so dark, this "Moon by Day", of powers strange and weird, through mystic veils her silver rays are glowing carefully. Woven of dewdrops and magical light, this gown that we're wearing here is but a cloth of mist and we used to call it "The Breath of the Other Sphere"... We are floating, flying, incredibly fast, the world of the thought gives birth to this life. Free to remember, to discover and feel as were closely together in our parallel flight. While beyond the gates our bodies lay next to each other in fragile rest, two chests are

lifted up and down, moved only by some mortal breath. Yes, our bodies are sleeping so closely together, but it's only in our minds that we touch (at last). In the realm of the spirit(s) our souls become one in the happy knowledge that we are completing halfs. No bodies and no barriers ...- (all) far more intimate and strange. Our understanding is clearer, incomparably real, although there is no sound that dares to escape ... His eyes are mirrors, gates to his soul, one true look and I recognize that it's him, my husband, the one that I love. See me! Read me! Step inside !!! No barriers and no masquerade, come, be received beyond distress! So intensively and so deep as our fingers unite, our hands caress. Two wanderers are lovingly dwelling this land, (as) we fly side by side over mountains and glens. In the twilight lit of the silver moon... set free from the flesh, released from this tomb! On Satur(n)days we used to sleep, the other side exploring, a life from our dreams ... Free from the pain, home where we belong ... guarded by the shadows of the enchanted realm. Below a violet sky, both dark and profound, the horizon is glitt'ring, still there is no sound. We fly through the night crossing frontiers and lakes, mountains and valleys ... world without end. "This is where we truly belong, take both my hands, look into my soul !" I feel the strength of his embrace as we're closely together in this secret place ... "Hush, hush, my Dear, can you hear the rustling in the Undergrowth? See through the branches, there in the glade: ghostly creatures as they dance and sing. Their transparent bodies, half man and half beast, their voices so sweet like a soft breath of wind. On Satur(n)days we used to sleep, and my pain was eased by his love..."

3. Hades "Pluton"
I dreamt that I was lying on the bottom of the dark and never-ending sea, on a bed that my dead lover was preparing with his own skeleton for me ... ("...bring us a goat and we'll show you the way straight through the realm of the fallen and slain ...") I sensed the wretched spectres of the drowned staring across from some distant shore, and in my sadness I drew closer, to condole and somewhat to implore ... I am like the doubtful kiss of a corpse or maybe the kiss of an ancient stone. Yes, it's like kissing some marble statue that has neither warmth nor life of its own.... ("...down, further down, where the gloom becomes sound, on the cell where your love might be found ...") COVER THE MIRRORS, FRAGILE HAS DIED, LEAVING BUT A STARLESS RUIN BEHIND! SHATTER THE MIRRORS, SO THAT HE CAN NEVER BE CALLED BACK FROM THE BLESSED

SILENCE OF HIS SCARED VAULT ... No, no, no...- put an end to the show! I am going back to the land where the boneflowers grow, to "the wild, weird clime that lieth, sublime, out of Space - out of Time" ... See the shape, but can't see through, no-one can ever hate me as well as I do. Know when to throw a laugh, know how to force a smile, whatever the intention ...- I'm such a "friendly" lie! ("...bring us only this goat and we'll lead you to him, it shall open the gates, so we can sneak you in...") "Bring us a goat and we'll show you the way straight through the realm of the fallen and slain. Down, further down, where the gloom becomes sound, on to the cell, where your love might be found ... Bring us only this goat and we'll lead you to him, it will open the gates, so we can sneak you in. Oh, it's cold and so dark here, and you must keep in mind, no-one can get you out, if you overstep time...!"

4. Sieh', Mein Geliebter, Hier Hab' Ich Gift

"Schatten, Schatten komm' herbei, auf diesem Lager harrt ein Leib! Die Brust, die unstet Steigt und sinkt, der Atem neues Leid nur bringt...!" Ein Seufzen, schwach, er zittert arg, sein trber Blick nimmt nichts mehr wahr, sein Stummer Mund Sagt: "La' mich geh'n!", und jede Faser scheint zu flehen. In Schmerzen mein Geliebter liegt, als htt' die Zeit den Tod besiegt... Als er erneut die Augen schliet, hoff' ich, da er die Nacht begrt. Seine Hand ist kalt, er sprt mich nicht ..., doch pltzlich dreht er sein Gesicht direkt zu mir und sieht mich an, hebt leicht das Haupt und flstert dann: "La' mich Sterben, laf' mich geh'n! Ich kann bereits die Andern seh'n!" Dreimal Spricht er's mit klarem Blick, dann sinkt ins Kissen er zurck ... Mein Mantel liegt schwer auf dem Tisch, aus seiner Tasche nehme ich den kleinen Flacn, blau-violett und setz' mich zu ihm an das Bett. "Hier hab' ich Gift, Geliebter mein, dies wird beenden Leine Pein!" Ich hebe sanft den Kopf ihm am, so Schwach ist er, da er kaum schlucken kann. "Kein Tropfen soll verschwendet sein, denn dies hier lt den Tod herein...!" Er leert das Glas bis auf den Grund, ein Lcheln umspielt seinen Mund. Ich bette seinen Kopf zurck, er sieht mich an mit klarem Blick... Die Morgensonne scheint warm in den Raum, ich schaue ins Licht, es ist wie im Traum, denn ich seh' am off'nen Fenster ihn steh'n mit gtigem Lcheln, so wunderschn! Ich lchle zurck, er neigt leicht das Haupt, winkt sanft mir zum Abschied und lst sich dann auf...

Ich ksse den Leichnam, berhr' seine Hand, seine Zge sind friedlich, weich und entspannt. Mein Geliebter ist fort, nur sein Leib ist geblieben ..., ihn werd' ich begraben. "RUHE IN FRIEDEN ..."

5. Ich Wollte Hinaus In Den Garten

Ich wollte hinaus in den Garten, zu begraben meines Liebsten Gebein', doch als ich kam zu der Tr seiner Kammer, da ffnet' ich sie und trat hinein. Dort lagen noch all seine Sachen, ganz so, als wr' er nicht fort. Sein Duft, zarter Hauch in den Kleidern, welch ein kostbarer Schrein dieser Ort. Ich ging, hinab in die Halle, wo sein Leichnam still aufgebahrt lag: gekleidet in weichster Seide, gebettet auf samtenem Schwarz. Ich kte sanft seine Lider und schmiegte mich an seinen Leib. So lagen wir eng beeinander, und an seiner Brust schlief ich ein. Die Sonne war lngst schon versunken, als ich zu mir kam aus dunklem Schlaf. Mein Krper, ans Leben gebunden, doch mein Liebster, bald Staub nur im Grab. Doch noch war sein Glanz nicht vergangen, sein Leichnam so schn, Haut und Haar. So legte ich ab uns' re Kleider und liebkoste ihn ein letztes Mal ... Ich ging hinaus in den Garten, zu begraben meines Liebsten Gebein'. Ich lie ihn hinab in die Erde und seitdem bin ich nun allein.

6. Gebet: An Die Glcklichen Eroberer

Ich ruf' Euch, Wrmer, denn diese Leich' hlt Einzug nun ins Totenreich. Zu schwerer Erden, kalt und klamm, trau' ich Euch meinen Liebsten an. Sein Leib, entseelt nun, bald Gebein, soll fr Euch Fest und Wohnstatt sein. Von Stund' an mag er Euch gehr'n, und nichts soll Seinen Frieden str'n!

7. Lament / Totenklage
[Instrumental]

8. The Sleeper
[by Edgar Allan Poe] At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And, softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley. The rosemary nods upon the grave; The lily lolls upon the wave; Wrapping the fog about its breast, The ruin molders into rest; Looking like Lethe, see! the lake A conscious slumber seems to take, And would not, for the world, awake. All Beauty sleeps!- and lo! where lies (Her casement open to the skies) Irene, with her Destinies! O, lady bright! can it be rightThis window open to the night? The wanton airs, from the tree-top, Laughingly through the lattice dropThe bodiless airs, a wizard rout, Flit through thy chamber in and out, And wave the curtain canopy So fitfully- so carefullyAbove the closed and fringed lid 'Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid, That, o'er the floor and down the wall, Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall! Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear? Why and what art thou dreaming here? Sure thou art come O'er far-off seas, A wonder to these garden trees! Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress, Strange, above all, thy length of tress, And this all solemn silentness! The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, Which is enduring, so be deep! Heaven have her in its sacred keep! This chamber changed for one more holy, This bed for one more melancholy, I pray to God that she may lie For ever with unopened eye,

While the pale sheeted ghosts go by! My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep As it is lasting, so be deep! Soft may the worms about her creep! Far in the forest, dim and old, For her may some tall vault unfoldSome vault that oft has flung its black And winged panels fluttering back, Triumphant, o'er the crested palls, Of her grand family funeralsSome sepulchre, remote, alone, Against whose portal she hath thrown, In childhood, many an idle stoneSome tomb from out whose sounding door She ne'er shall force an echo more, Thrilling to think, poor child of sin! It was the dead who groaned within.

9. Die Knochenblume

10. Inschrift / Epitaph

Hier, unter diesem alten Stein, liegen eng beieinander die Gebein' zweier Wesen, die wie eines war'n. Denn als von beiden das Eine verstarb, folgte das Andere ihm ins Grab ...- nach nicht einmal ganz einem Jahr.

11. All Good Things Are Eleven

album: "Dead Lovers' Sarabande - Face Two" (1999)

Abschied The Dog Burial The House Is Empty Now No-one Is There Procession / Funeral March Va(r)nitas, Vanitas... (...Omnia Vanitas) The Hourglass Transfiguration Has He Come To Test Me? If Loneliness Was All Daffodils

1. Abschied
[Original music & lyrics by NICO] "Seinem Geiste bekenne ich mich, ein Sehnen verzehret sein schnes Gesicht, da, ermattet, von Gte beschattet, allmchtig ist. Sein Krper bewegt sich nicht...- im Traume sich endlich sein Zwingen vergit. Den heulenden Jubel erkenne ich nicht, der mir den heiligen Frieden zerbricht. Sein schweigender Mund, seine schlafende Brust harren zrtlich der sen Lust. Sein Krper bewegt sich nicht...- im Traume sich endlich sein Zwingen vergit."

2. The Dog Burial

"Rasch, beeilt Euch, steigt hinab, ich hrt' ihn atmen dort im Grab! Bringt Licht herbei, brecht auf den Sarg! Was zaudert ihr?! Tut, wie ich sag', bevor sein Herz gibt auf den Schlag...!

3. The House Is Empty Now

4. No-one Is There
Now and then I'm scared, when I seem to forget how sounds become words or even sentences ... No, I don't speak anymore and what could I say, since no-one is there and there is nothing to say ...

So, I prefer to lie in darkest silence alone ... listening to the lack of light, or sound, or someone to talk to, for something to share ...- but there is no hope and no-one is there. No, no, no ...- not one living soul and there is nothing (left) to say, in darkness I lie all alone by myself, sleeping most of the time to endure the pain. I am not breathing a word, I haven't spoken for weeks and yet the mistress inside me is (secretly) straining her ears. But there is no-one, and it seems to me at times that with every passing hour another word is leaving my mind ... I am the mistress of loneliness, my court is deserted but I do not care. The presence of people is ugly and cold and something I can neither watch nor bear. So, I prefer to lie in darkness silence alone, listening to the lack of light, or sound, or someone to talk to, for something to share ...- but there is no hope and no-one is there. No, I don't speak anymore and what should I say, since no- one is there and there is nothing to say? All is oppressive, alles ist schwer, there is no-one and NO-ONE IS THERE ...

5. Procession / Funeral March

6. Va(r)nitas, Vanitas... (...Omnia Vanitas)

Knochen verbrennen bei 760C, und damit ist eigentlich auch schon alles gesagt. Komm', la' uns spielen "Knig und Knigin", dreimal darfst Du raten, wer von beiden ich dann bin! Doch im Grunde ist dies alles einerlei, zu Staub werden wir zerfallen und sind dann... ach... ohnehin gleich! Dennoch mu ich bekennen, die Einsicht fllt zuweilen schwer, Dinge an denen wir hngen, geben wir nur hchst ungern her. Oh, alles ist vergnglich und existiert nur kurze Zeit, wovor wir uns so frchten, ist meistens bloe Eitelkeit. Was and're von uns glauben, ist flchtig, wie ein furz im Wind. La ' sie denken, was sie wollen, es gibt Dinge, die wirklich wichtig sind! Komm', schliee Deine Augen und sag' geschwind: WAS KANNST DU SEH'N? Schaust du mit off'nem Herzen, werden selbst garst'ge Monster wunderschn... ("Beauty comes from the inside and so does ugliness! Yet, make-up is my armour, Dear, and I must hide my face. One and one is sometimes three, sometimes nothing at all, all is mortal, all is vain ...- and mortal things must fall!") Knochen verbrennen bei 760C, und damit ist eigentlich auch schon alles gesagt.

7. The Hourglass

8. Transfiguration
Nothing is in this world can be as immaculate and pure as the love of us Cold Ones for the dead. Our love lives only in those fleeting moments of recollection ...- memories we're fearing to forgot. Our love knows neither kiss or touch, we are embracing dust, air or ourselves when visualizing what we've lost. Awoken by a sound or scent, some visions call sad phantoms ..., floating, wrapped in fading colours ...- our lament. And then there is the all-devouring dread: "some day I might not bring him back ..., when my feeble mind can't help but lose the contours of his face". Lost forever, lone and sad, gone forever to the dead ...- so far beyond the barriers of the opposite space. Yet, alas, despite it all ... walking through these deserted halls ... It's easy ... still ... to love the dead...It's easier to love the dead.

9. Has He Come To Test Me?

10. If Loneliness Was All

a stage: (by the window, darkest night) Imagine what it would be like if loneliness was all ...! No fulfillment, nor hope inside, could I endure this sadest fate if loneliness was all ...? (scene cut)

"Will I ever find the one I've waiting for a thousand years?" but the answer to this question lies within the confines of your (hopes and) fears. "Heal me, feel me, reveal and seal me! Shed a light upon my lonely soul!" But there is no-one (no other being) on the outside to make you whole ... (scene cut) "Twelve faces shape the unholy circle, one mask for any opportunity. This sphere must remain incomplete ...- (as) in its centre the thirteenth mask is me." If love was something I could feel, at least some kind of cheerfulness ...- but i feel nothing, drowned in pain, half-frozen in my emptiness Beyond this veneer of friendless lies my true face, that no-one knows. This mask's a lie, obvious and sad, my heart is empty and all is cold. The same stage: (on the staircase, some other night) Imagine, what it would be like, if love was really all ...! Then I'd truly be alone without a resting place or a final home, if love was really all ... "Confide a secret to me, and I'll keep it to myself! I'm like a temple built of sadness, trustworthy like a grave ..." (scene cut)

11. Daffodils

album: "Ich Tte Mich Jedesmal Aufs Neue..." (1999)

Travel on Breath (The Breath Of The World) Falling Into Different Flesh Birth-Fiendish Figuration Tanz Der Grausamkeit Im Garten Des Nichts (A Secret Light In The Garden Of My Void) Time Stands Still... (...But Stops For No-One) Do you know my Name? (Falling ...- reprise) Penance & Pain Holy Water Moonlight Beautiful Thorn The Feast of Blood Dark Delight(s) Baptisma Birth-Fiendish Figuration (Demo Version)

1. Travel on Breath (The Breath Of The World)

2. Falling Into Different Flesh

3. Birth-Fiendish Figuration
Exposed with hands as empty as the opposite space, crawlingly we move to where the final station lies. To whom is the debt that we are forced to pray, real faces dare to appear only when we turn away. Truth reveals itself ...- reveal yourself. A face ordained ...- two hypocrites; we know the masks, the artificial smiles. "Mind's black eyes should break the lies." Distorted pictures are all transparent to us; phantasmagoria ...- such a useful weapon. Ineffectual against us: enemies with the knowledge of truth; truth makes me sick, what a wretched play. Paralysed by flesh and bones. Condemned to vegetate, condemned to stay alone. Helplessly we are escaping, we're clinging to ...- Stranded at the shores of the infamed side. Our distress in perfection, trials and tribulations. Preferring our pain we stay and die ...

4. Tanz Der Grausamkeit

Tongue of Silence, lick my lips, steal my thoughts and steal my pride. My soul lies offered as I am waiting, intoxicate me when you step inside. Hold my hands, my hands are trembling, your charming beauty takes my breath. Fragrant per fumes veil my senses tormentress. Out of darkness we all came from, flights from darkness is in vain. I am the banquet, I am deficious, into darkness we'll fall back again ... Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, an diesen Ort kann ich nicht sein, strecke mich nieder, zerschlage mein Haupt. Meister des Mordes, schenke mir den Tod. Meiste des Mordes, erhre mein flehen, beende die Leiden, nimm den Schmerz von mir. ffne die Tore, es ist fr mich Zeit, Meister des Mordes dieser Tanz ist Grausamkeit. Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, gefangen in Fleisch, erbrmlich und alt. Fhre mich fort in die Dunkelheit, Vater meiner Seele, diese Tanz ist Grausamkeit. Vater meiner Seele, rei' mich in den Tod ... es tut mir Leid

5. Im Garten Des Nichts (A Secret Light In The Garden Of My Void)

Wage nicht, mich zu berhren! Dies ist der Garten des Nichts. Hier kannst Du niemanden tuschen, niemand belgen, dein Herz ist aus Glas im Garten des Nichts. Hier bist "Du" wertlos, nichts als Fleisch. Fleisch fr die Bestie(n) im Garten des Nichts .... Deine Schreie verhallen hier ungehrt, und Deine Hoffnungen ... von eigener Hand, zerstrt. Im Garten des Nichts ... "Ein geheimes Licht schlft in der Finsternis, ffne Deine Augen erkenne wer Du bist! Brenne und werde zu Licht!" I close my eyes and breath the light within myself ...- it has been there all the time. How blind I had been, I couldn't see. I have searched the outside for the answer ...- it was me. Steig' hinab in die Hlle, damit Du erkennst, woher Du kommst, damit Du erkennst, wohin Du gehrst. Fhle den Schmerz, fhle den Ha, fhle die Qual, die Einsamkeit. "Erhebe Dein bses Auge!" Du bist Dein bses Auge, und wohin du auch schaust, stets erblickst Du Dich selbst. ffne Deine Augen!!! Nicht Fleisch bist Du, steige hinab n das Fleisch, doch nicht Fleisch bist Du!!! Nicht Dunkelheit bist Du, darum falle, falle hinab in die Dunkelheit ...- und trume! Aber hte Dich vor dem Schlaf"!" "Ein geheimes Licht schlft in der Finsternis, ffne Deine Augen, erkenne wer Du bist. Brenne und werde zu Licht! Reich' mir die Hand, denn wir sind das Band. Die Brcke, der Bogen zwischen Unten und Oben. Brenne und werde zu Licht!"

6. Time Stands Still... (...But Stops For No-One)

That little mountain rises while other dissolve into a plain, time redefines itself and falls in sadness grain by grain ... "Time heals all the wounds", the two - tongued echoes seem to say, but nothing, nothing changes, still pain remains, won't pass away ... I went weal as I grew old, and time itself has made me slow, and as I close my eyes in sadness a thousand seasons come and go ... Mighty enough to cover all and also cruel enough to reveal, but the wounds and scars I carry neither force nor kiss can heal ... No, time heals nothing, nothing, nothing, spitefully turns away and laughs, leaves you half-broken and in defiance is only added another scar ... Call it "blind" how I am writhing, counting hours, centuries. The pain it glows and grows in tides, unable to vanish, unwilling to cease ... No time heals nothing, nothing, nothing, pushes 'till we're diving into different flesh. Time heals nothing, nothing, nothing in the coldness of the inner flames... time's fingers claw, I am losing hold, there is no hope for me on earth. Time either still or maybe rushing, in any case it will turn out worse ... Time is fleeting, time stands still, it stops for no-one and we're trapped withing. Though I may dream of the light, I am falling back to the left-hand side ... "How I wish that I was dead and rest in final peace, but even the luxury of death can't cure the wounds time cannot heal..."

7. Do you know my Name? (Falling ...- reprise)

I shattered all the mirrors fearfully hoping that they won't be able to remember my face. Darkest of all light, most greedy to embrace, surrounded by demons and breathing in life. "I don't want to be a perverted temple of my Lord ... though his hands I am, I have forgotten how to hear or understand his words..." Between tides the time seems endlessly, the force of habit or whatever pulle d me back into a well-known pain. What uses the knowledge of my progressions when the old world is g one? Without a new "inside", with my new-found life, I am homeless again ... "I don't want to be a perverted temple of my Lord. Through his flesh I am, I have forgotten how to hear or understand his words ..." I am falling down, back to the lowest spheres ...- Do you know my name? Did you answer? I just cannot hear ...

8. Penance & Pain

"Living ...- have a look at the living! Dancing blindly, losing balance ... - will you choose pain or will you prefer "the penance"?" The living and the undead ...- penance and pain. Light and dark, into paths ahead: Death to Rebirth or "life undead"". Life on one side, the Undead on the other side ...- the darkest side. I don't belong to "your" side anymore, I am one of the Undead ...- damned and forgotten.

9. Holy Water Moonlight

Undead and still suffering, always suffering ... Wooden stake impales my heart, driving through this ancient heart ... Holy water heal my wounds! Everyt hing has changed its side ... The tear of the Devil shed a light upon heart, but unfaithful sneaking eyes betrayed my soul, befouled the dark ... The night is sweet, never deceptive or of treachery. The cruel lights in the wake of the dawn is my true enemy ... I have seen my fall ...- end of it all. Holy water, shed a lights upon my life! Holy water, everything has changed its side ... Your silver rays brought me back to life, gifted me, gave me new sights. Holy moonlight...

10. Beautiful Thorn

Ivy kissed the shadows, as morning lusts for deed, (s)he, with lips of sweetest pain, lies in wait for you. With the death (s)he went away, before the mist veiled the earth. Hosting remained, except the wounds the only gifts for her... "For themselves they should despair, when our graves lie in silence but we'r e not there; when there are voices close to your ear, but no reflection" haunts the mirror... "With the daring me went away before mist veiled the earth, nothing remained except the wounds; the only gifts of me and her...

11. The Feast of Blood

Today the y've found another one, lifeless an the old subway floor. His face was turned to his back ...- the same way the others died before. "Drain the mortals to their last convulsion and veil the ancient cause. Let off of them and see then tumble, let off and en joy their fall!" The feast of blood ... "This mortal nectar that warms from the inside, this very special sort of mine. So delicious ...- let it flow, devour! Oh, so divine! ... and the feast shall never end, until we all descend ...- in hell.

12. Dark Delight(s)

Hands folded in a prayer, a rosary embedded in-between tonight I'll join you in your sleep ... I'll bring you back to life this night, it's wont for the flesh at least. I will join you in your sleep. Come up, I hear your voice, this is not me. I'm not aware of what I am doing! I'll shiver at the recollection when I'll awake with the soil on my hands ... I know,

they will find you ...- fallen to sleep again between the mounts and crosses. Tomorrow night is will be just the same, it will be just the same ...

13. Baptisma
Shivering with awe and daylight, "here is my throat", I said, as I bowed my head in silence to him. Behold my white flesh shining in the velvet darkness. Take me now and I will be yours, forever ... there I stood bare and willing; as the blood -my blood- w a s streaming down this naked body, my naked body. Gushing out of the wounds, enfeebled I was sinking to the floor "cold", I thought, "so cold the stones ..., but colder I'll be soon ...-still not enough ..." this is the moment, my beautiful beloved one, th e time has come, to send a farewell to the sin, to cross the threshold and leave all those mortal dregs behind. You shall be flesh of my blood ... Let me take what you have to give, let me take, and you shall receive. Feel the beat of my death heart ..., a nd drink, as I have done, drink, my beautiful beloved one!" A new, flower in the ancient bouquet. Another rose in the garden of darkness that will never see the day, that will never see the day ...

14. Birth-Fiendish Figuration (Demo Version)

album: "Songs From The Inverted Womb" (2000)

Something Wicked This Way Comes... Tales From The Inverted Womb Do You Know About The Water Of Life? ...And Bringer Of Sadness Rsum... Totes Kind / Little Dead Boy May I Kiss Your Wound? Saturn Devouring His Children There Was A Country By The Sea Little Velveteen Knight Eldorado

1. Something Wicked This Way Comes...

Perhaps this is the saddest story, it is full of pain and hurt, because, of all the names and phrases of this mortal world, there is only one that I hate more than any other, and this most disgusting term is the one of "Mother". Maybe this is the saddest story, it is full of pain and hurt, because, of all the names and phrases of this mortal world, there is only one that I fear more than any other, and this most terrifying term is the one of "Mother".

2. Tales From The Inverted Womb

Alas, let me tell you about the beauty of the tomb: the stained glass, all viole(n)t, enhancing the gloom. Dark flowers, all withered, fragile and old, yet, their perfume still lingers like a secret untold. Like a dream, or a memory that floats in this vault, waiting for the moment it shall be recalled by some visitor, maybe, who is seeking release from a strange kind of sadness, some unknown disease. Its symptoms are madness, caused by the music in his head, sung by an endless choir, called: "the Voices of the Dead". It's his longing for silence, for the absence of sound, that will lead him the hidden path below the ground. Where he shall discover, though terror and fear, behind black iron doors .... something is sleeping here: a little dead baby, a young boy lies kept, as fragile and frightened, crippled and sad...

3. Do You Know About The Water Of Life?

In my subterranean tower...- yes, it was "love" that has brought me here, there are no numbers, but one and eleven, and an uncertain feeling about the presence of three. Built brick by brick and fear by fear...- Oh, everything's inverted here. These walls have eyes, these vaults have ears and there's no hiding from the tears...

While I am dressed in the monster's skin,"behold the cruellest mockery!": erection, fur(s) and a cloak of shame my beauty is too disgusting...- please, don't look at me. Built brick by brick and fear by fear...- Oh, everything's inverted here. These walls have eyes, these vaults have ears and there's no hiding from the tears... Like Cronos I rigidly serve an illusion...- I attempted to unman Uranus last night; swallowing handfuls of my prophetic children, in terror I'm fearing the passing of time. Built brick by brick and fear by fear...- Oh, everything's inverted here. These walls have eyes, these vaults have ears and there's no hiding from the tears... ...And in the silence that followed I learned to speak the secret language of denial and fear; seemingly gentle for its absence of voices, yet, it's merely a shroud for a deafening scream. Built brick by brick and fear by fear...- Oh, everything's inverted here. These walls have eyes, these vaults have ears and there's no hiding from the tears...

4. ...And Bringer Of Sadness

Oh Saturn, come ... devour me, save in your Darkness I long to sleep. I'll make my heart a sword of steel, I will not doubt, will never feel. All petrified I shall not fear ... (... though petrified I'm breathing fear). Oh Saturn, come ... devour me, save in your Darkness all shall be sealed!

5. Rsum...
Over there that little mountain rises, while some others dissolve into a plain. Time redefines itself and falls in sadness grain by grain ... "Time, my dear, heals all the wounds", the two-tongues echoes seem to say. But nothing, nothing changes here, this pain remains and will not go away. [Lament:] "I went weak, as I grew old, and time itself has made me slow ...- and as I close my eyes in sadness a thousand seasons come and go ..." Might enough to cover all and also cruel enough to reveal, but all the wounds and scars he carries neither force nor kiss can ever heal. No, time heals nothing, nothing, nothing ...- spitefully turns away and laughs. Leaves

you half-broken and in defiance is only added another scar ... Call it "blind" how he is writhing, counting hours, centuries ...- the pain it grows and glows in tides, unable to vanish, unwilling to cease ... No, time heals nothing, nothing, nothing ...- pushes 'till we're diving into different flesh. Time heals nothing, nothing, nothing petrified with some unnameable shame... [Lament:] "Time's fingers claw, I am losing hold, there is no hope for me on earth. Time either still or maybe rushing ...- in any case it will turn out worse ..." Time is fleeting, time stands still, it stops for no-one and we're trapped within, and though he may my dream of the light, he is falling back (in)to the left-hand side... [Rsum:] "How I wish what I as dead and rest in final peace ...- but even the luxury of death can't cure the wounds time cannot heal ..."

6. Totes Kind / Little Dead Boy

Gestern zhlt' ich noch keine Sieben, doch heut' bin ich schon tausend Jahr', und scheint mein Leib auch gleich geblieben, ist meine Seel' dem Tod doch nah'. Wo vormals bunte Blumen waren, wetteifernd in Wuchs und Farbenpracht, hat meine Welt ihr Licht verloren und geht zugrung'...in ew'ger Nacht. Hungernd nach Sinn und bettelnd um Stille, lieg' angstvoll trumend im Dunkeln ich wach, mit der Scham sich verbndend, lhmt Schuld meinen Willen...- und alsbald werd' ich selbst zum sterben zu schwach. Dies gleicht der Verdammnis, dem ewigen Leid, wenn alles nur mehr schmerzvoll und elendig erscheint...!

7. May I Kiss Your Wound?

May I kiss you wound? Maybe that will heal my soul. Free me from this tomb, light my darkness, make me whole! Let me take your hand, and together we shall fly to a lonely place, where as "lovers" we can die. In an land ... so dark ... of seven moons ... eternal night, with a sky of thousand stars, yet, for us there is no light...- there waits no light.

8. Saturn Devouring His Children

We know the secret reason, the reason for his parricide the silent and illusive try to stop the fleeting hand of time. A strategy, that will always be but a hopeless venture, bound to fail, and all he ever does conceive is a twisted kind of burial; which he had never though to yield...- as something further lies concealed. Burying the children in a hurry, secretly within the tomb, in the gentle safety ... of his own belly, where, soundly asleep, they'll be waiting for the time of their delivery ... and exactly that's the irony! Something that he had never thought to yield...- as something further lies concealed. Fear ... this is the secret name, driving force and motivation for his attempt to stop the wheal; yes, something further leis concealed. We tru ly know the secret reason, still something further lies concealed, the dreadful murder, a sad illusion, now something else shall be revealed: I, your child, bury myself within your body eagerly, forbidden taste, never admitted, driven by the ghouls of fear . Refuge for unspoken longing(s), we are not quite ready for this world; in silent slumber of a darker safety...- into my mother's womb I want to return.

9. There Was A Country By The Sea

There was a country by the sea, but I cannot say for certain, whether it was part of a lonely isle, or merely some coastal region. A landing-stage of rotten blanks stretched carefully into the waves, and for one moment I did wonder, what frightening purpose it might serve. O, heavy, roaring, endless seas, what secrets does this rage entomb? Have ancient memories or hungry ghosts, gathered all their strength, to call for this storm? Deep-seated gardens, almost a labyrinth, walled in by ruins and rocks ivy-clad, perhaps this strange place had once been a palace, where now viole(n)t bushes bear dark thorns instead. A young boy was taking me by the hand and unerringly he was leading me down below the gardens, which I hardly remembered, the moment I took the first step underground. We came to a room with only small windows, and to my suprise I could somehow still hear, though reduced to a murmur, now chant-like and humming, to once savage voice of the roaring sea. The boy has built a catacomb, he is living in a tomb, below the ground, where there's no sound, he is hiding, from the world. Something resembling an altar was built there, a secret overshadowed structure and use, underneath, in inanimate self-contemplation, lay a jet-black mass of coal-like granules. Yet, this dark material had an unearthly lightness, and when I touched it, to feel what it

was, it did seem to totally ignore my presence ...-without leaving a trace, it came trickling off. Then out of a sudden from under the barrow something, appeared, unexpectedly: it was the bones of the little boy's mother, which he had placed with greatest care underneath [Chorus] There must have been something in my look(s), 'cause the little boy started to speak, and to my unvoiced Question of why he had done this, he answered these words to me: "This is the only way I can be save from her, only this can guarantee, that she will not rise again, because when she does, she is always following me. There's just no alternative, I cannot escape from her, because as soon as I try, she will get up again, merely to haunt me...-oh, believe me, I have tried numerous times! But here in these vaults I have finally found something that works like a seal, these jetblack granules do keep me from harm, and her bones can no longer hurt me. Piled up in a certain, specific form, all the remains must be covered with it, then everything keeps still and for a brief moment I can pretend, that she does not exist. Yet, all the time I must be on my guards, because now and then it can happen indeed, that frequently the earth does tremble and shaken, and some of the stones are Starting to slip. So, constantly I have to control the barrow, the jet-black darkness of the coal-like mass, in order to be there, to repair the damage, to pile all back safely and to replace..." The boy has built a catacomb, he is living in a tomb. below the ground, where there's no sound, he is hiding from the (terrible) world. It took me a while to realism that we all have secrets and fears ...- is it then a surprise that we close our minds from the pain that is causing these tears ?

10. Little Velveteen Knight

Infants like phantoms, denied and suspected, their existence discovered always when least expected. Prepared for the day, the knight, he just cannot keep the perfect mask in its place, when he is falling asleep. Faces slacken in slum ber, each rigid muscle relaxes, without warning the hidden child comes to the surface. From the deepest darkness, some unnameable place, of the tower inverted, forms a different face; climbing upwards with effort, to see through the eyes. ..- windows to the soul -now shut- are starring inside. And while the outside beholder sees the face of a child, this fearful and helpless infant turns to a wild beast inside: becomes the architect of the most terrible dreams and puts a crue l fears of death into our hero's sleep... This child is a dragon, who you must strive to kill, though it defeated you once ... and, yes, it always will! Oh, little velveteen knight (and heroes of all kinds), endeavour to slay the dragon... (... and yourselves when you try)! Yes, this monster's immortal ... and your fight is in vain, it only will last forever, some monsters just cannot be slain. This infant's beast ..., and the dragon's its guardian, protecting his child, so that no-one can harm it,

their most gruesome s hape puts the fear of death into our supposed (but velveteen) hero; yet, you must get me right: there is no choice for the child, its intentions are good and always upright. Tell me, why do you from? Do you bear questions ... or doubt? Have you not recognised that both, dragon and child, are in face more than kin...- they represent the same thing! And all our characters that you will see or seem are merely part of the dreamer ... and therefore the dream.

11. Eldorado
[text by Edgar Allan Poe] Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew oldThis knight so boldAnd o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow"Shadow," said he, "Where can it beThis land of Eldorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied"If you seek for Eldorado!"

album: "Es Reiten Die Toten So Schnell" (2003)

Omen Sinistrum Dead Souls Stake Of My Soul Beautiful Thorn Baptisma The Feast Of Blood Sopor Fratrem Mortis Est The Dreadful Mirror Reprise Birth - Fiendish Figuration Penance & Pain Holy Water Moonlight Infant ber Den Fluss Dark Delight

1. Omen Sinistrum
Kiss the corpse, the blessed sigh, walk in the garden of the night. Hold the carcass, sweetest lie, bury the body you chose to deny. Shed a tear, suspended in fear... every soul is starving here.

2. Dead Souls
Hidden behind merciful shadows, beyond the cruel daylight, living to hunt and kill, we are the... damned children of the night. Dragging our immune existence through thousands of centuries and from dusk to dawn we suffer from our immortality. Hosts contaminate our tombs and crosses burn our skin, you can kill us a thousand times, but we're the ones, who will always remain ... - In Pain ... In Pain: "I'm the resurrection-man, who steals his own corpse and abducts himself to the beloved catacombs and vaults". Death and decay, cadaverous smell, for us there's neither heaven, nor is there a hell, and only the stigmata could be able to betray the sombre existence of the former days. After the dead Lover's kiss you fall into a dream,

but with your second birth you're a prince in our mournful realm. By day, when a million suns are killing with their shine, the cold, dark crypts are saving me ... and mine. Death and decay, cadaverous smell, for us there's neither heaven, nor is there a hell, and only the stigmata could be able to betray the sombre existence of the former days ...

3. Stake Of My Soul
Would your bare your neck ... to the walking dead ... Secretly, at least, within the safety of your head? Tell me, isn't it nice - every once in a while Being the centre of attention of a loving, Handsome ... Parasite, Answering your call, the invitation of the scar, For being wanted - accepted - for the way you feel you are ?!

4. Beautiful Thorn
Ivy kissed the shadows, As mo(u)rning lusts for dew, She with lips of sweetest pain, Lies in wait for you. With the dawn she went away, Before mist veiled the earth, Nothing remained - except for the wounds The only gift of her. "Oh, for themselves they should despair, When our graves lie in silence, but we're not there. When there are voices close to your ear, But no reflection is haunting the mirror." With the dawn we fade away, Before mist veils the earth, Nothing remains, except for the wounds ... The only gift of him, me ... or her.

5. Baptisma
Shivering with ... awe ... and delight: "Here is my throat", he said, As he bowed his head ... in silence ... to him. Behold his white flesh ... shining in the velvet of darkness. Take him now, and he will be yours ... Can't you see, how he longs to be yours ... forever ... and a day. ...silently the river flows ... "Meister des Mordes, nimm meine Augen, An diesem Ort kann ich nicht sein. Strecke mich nieder, zerschlage mein Haupt, Meister des Mordes, schenke mir den Tod!" There he stood, bare and willing, As the blood ... his blood ... was streaming Down his naked body ... this naked body. Gushing out of the wounds, enfeebled he was sinking to the floor. Gushing out of the wounds, enfeebled he was sinking to the floor. "Cold" , he thought, "so cold the stones, But I'll be colder soon!" Still not enough ... still not enough. "This is the moment, my beautiful, beloved one, The time has come to send your farewell to the sun, To cross the threshold and leave ... all these mortal dregs behind. You shall be flesh of my flesh ... and blood of my blood. Flesh of my flesh ... and blood of my blood. Let me take what you have to give, Let me take ... and you shall receive. Feel the beat of my dead heart, Feel the beat of my heart ... and drink, as I have done ... Drink, my beautiful, beloved one!" A new flower in the ancient bouquet, Another rose in the garden of darkness, That will never see the day ... That will never, never see the day. "...Trnen sind Perlen, Juwelen der Sterbenden ..."

6. The Feast Of Blood

Today they've found another one, Lifeless on the cold subway-floor.

His face was turned to his back ... The same way the other died before. Drain the mortals to their last convulsion and veil the ancient cause, Let off ... of them ... and see them tumble, Let off and enjoy their fall! The Feast of Blood ... Sweet nourishment, provided with a sob! This mortal nectar, that warms from the inside, This very special sort of wine. So delicious, let it flow ... devour ... oh, so divine. Alas, this feast shall never end, Until in hell we all descent ...

7. Sopor Fratrem Mortis Est

"... kiss the corpse, the blessed sigh, enter the garden of the night. Shed a tear, suspended in fear ... - Every soul is starving here ..." The silence of the graves is not silent at all: Millions of the dead are crying in their graves, But no-one can hear them ... no-one ever hears ... No-one can hear them ... Except for the dead themselves. We can't die, no we can't die, It doesn't even matter if we try. We fear/hate the living, we shun the light, Our beloved tombs keep us sheltered inside. Sleep ... sleep is the brother of death, So lie down beside this skeleton in the coldness of the grave, Let the embrace of his dead arms keep you all save and sound. Buried in slumber ... silently ... Forever beneath the ground. Stalk "The night", if that's your wish, With your foolish garlic-chain and crucifix, Yet, if you find our graves, we won't be there, There are thousands of places left for our despair. And every night it's the same again: "The feast of Blood is about to begin !" We are wretched ... pathetic ... the flickering souls, But staging our pain is all part of the whole. And when all lights are fading, leaving but a fleeting glow, Then, after far too many years, it's time for us to go.

"Kiss the corpse - the blessed sigh - walk in the garden of the night. Shed a tear, suspended in fear ... - Cause every soul is starving here. Hold the carcass, sweetest lie, bury the body you chose to deny, Shed a tear, suspended in fear ... - Every soul is starving here."

8. The Dreadful Mirror

White as snow lie my lover's bones in the soft, velvet soil of the vault, And I, his bride, sleep by his side, To celebrate our sacred love. At times it seems that I'm existing only within some fading memory, But dreams are all sacred, dreams are all holy ... And, by far, still the safest place for my poor soul to be. Do not speak of the terrible place that guided your war-horse and your living stake ! We are dancing in circles with the dear living dead, We are blessed with the corpses that coil 'round our necks. Please, don't speak of that terrible place, That once guided your war-horse and your living stake ! We are taking a walk with our dear walking dead, Feeling blessed with the corpses that feed on our necks. I caught a glimpse of myself on the other sphere and for a fleeting moment I forgot the tears. Dreams are precious ... and - OH - so is sleep, This, my safest, yet ... by far ... the most fragile of all retreats. Do not speak of the terrible place that guided your war-horse and your living stake ! We are dancing in circles with the dear living dead. We are blessed with the corpses that coil 'round our necks. Please, don't speak of that terrible place that once guided your war-horse and your living stake ! We are taking a walk with our dear walking dead, Feeling blessed with the corpses that feed on our necks ...

9. Reprise
Hanging down from the ceiling ... the old pendulum now rests, Time stands still ... - like iron - ... in the house of the dead. Our fragile souls lie weeping, sealed in sleep and balls of lead, All flowers here are dust, but we can still recall their scent. In filth, decay and disrelish the leg-less man lay kneeling, Weeping petrified, out of his mind ... - half buried, yet still breathing. His lips are soft like powder and so cold ... colder than snow; Mingled with the dust he fell, all paralysed by flesh and bone. "Forgive us, please, for we're long fallen", Shivering carcass shuns the light, Ancient bodies' fallen heaven, a dark star in a fallen sky. "Flow my tears !" , the angel said, He forced a smile than bowed his head, How much he wished that he could die ... Tore his old wings off with a sigh.

10. Birth - Fiendish Figuration

Exposed with hands as empty, as the opposite space, Crawlingly we move to where the final station lies. To whom is the debt that we are forced to pay, Real faces dare to appear only, when we turn away. Truth reveals itself ... - reveal yourself ! A face ordained to serve the hypocrites, We know the masks, the artificial smiles ... Mind's black eyes should break the lies. Distorted pictures are all trans/parent to us, Phantasmagoria, such a useful weapon; Ineffectual against us ... Enemies with the knowledge of truth. Truth makes me sick ... - what a wretched play. Paralysed by flesh and bone ... Condemned to vegetate, Condemned to stay alone. Helplessly we are escaping, we're clinging to ... Stranded at the shores ... oh, beloved infamous side. Our distress in perfection, trials and tribulations ... Preferring our pain, we'll stay and die.

11. Penance & Pain

The living ... have a look at the living: Dancing blindly ... losing balance, Will you chose pain ... or will you prefer the penance; The penance. The living ... have a look at the living: Dancing blindly ... losing balance, Will you chose pain ... or will you prefer the penance; The penance. The living and the undead, The living and the undead. A ballet of the living and the living dead: Penance, penance & Pain; Penance & Pain. The living ... have a look at the living: Dancing blindly ... losing balance, Will you chose pain ... or will you prefer the penance; The Penance. Light and dark, two paths ahead, Death to rebirth ... - or life undead; Life undead. One for the living, One for the undead ... The undead, the undead, the undead. Light and dark, two paths ahead, Death to rebirth ... - or life undead; Life undead. One for the living, for the living, Only for the living; One for the undead, for the undead. Life on one side, Undeath on the other side ... - the darkest side: "I don't belong to your side anymore. I'm one of the undead", This is what the pale boy said.

12. Holy Water Moonlight

Undead ... and still suffering, Always suffering. Wooden stake, come, impale my heart ... Driven through this ancient heart ! Holy water, heal my wounds ... Everything has now changed sides; Walking through the garden of the darkest night.

The tear of the devil shed a light upon my heart, But unfaithful, sneaking eyes betrayed my soul ... Befouled the dark. Our night is sweet, never deceptive or of treachery ... The cruel light in the wake of the dawn is my true enemy. I fear my own fall ... The end of everything and all. Holy water, shed a light upon my life. Holy water, everything has now changed sides. Your silver rays brought me back to life, Gifted me, gave me new sight ... Holy water moonlight.

13. Infant
Would your bare your neck ... to the walking dead ... Secretly, at least, within the safety of your head? Tell me, isn't it nice - every once in a while Being the centre of attention of a loving, Handsome ... Parasite, Answering your call, the invitation of the scar, For being wanted - accepted - for the way you feel you are ?!

14. ber Den Fluss

He woke up, as his flesh fell off ... slice by slice, Floating high up in the air, more than ten-thousand miles. He said, he was crucified underneath a baneful sky, Had nails through feet and hands, Yes, also nails in his eyes. In defiance of all living things he hang there ... upside down, His poor, vicious face almost touching the ground. He knows well where he's been, Don't let him in !!! He claimed twelve-thousand crucifixes transformed into distorted sombre trees, Blood ran down their scarred trunks, Gushed slowly dripping out of the leaves. The offering gathered in a chalice, all golden, Held by the dirty hands of a black-bearded man,

His face sheer spitefulness. He knows well where he's been; So, don't let him, don't let him in ... Don't let him in !!!

15. Dark Delight

Hands folded in a prayer, A rosary embedded in-between ... Tonight I'll join you in your sleep. (... sleep brings no joy to me ...) I'll bring you back to life this night, It's meant for the flesh at least ... I'll join you in your sleep. (... sleep brings no joy to me ...) Come up, I hear your voice ... - this is not me, I'm not aware of what I'm doing. I'll shiver at the recollection, When I'll awake with the soil ... on my hands. I know, they will find you ... fallen asleep again, Between the mounds and crosses. Tomorrow night it will be just the same ... It will be just the same. (... sleep brings no joy to me ...)

EP: "Flowers In Formaldehyde" (2004)

In An Hour Darkly The Conqueror Worm Minnesang Von der Einfalt Hearse-Shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter Leeches & Deception Extract From: The Voices Of The Dead Do You Know My Name?

1. In An Hour Darkly
In einer dunklen Stunde, ach, alle Stunden sind dunkel hier. Aus einem Becher von zartestem Flieder trinken wir Tee allein mit mir. My name is BROKEN CHALICE and leaden I am filled all the way up to the brim; Filled with sadness, and with misery, and the most terrible of things. Very soon I might overflow I fear, as I am filled with so much anger and far too many tears. These words come from the depth of my discontent, To testify to you of the displeasure that I harbour against the world and therefore myself. Hush, here lies truth, sweet child, in all its obvious simplicity. A long time ago it seems the boy has come to an agreement with himself, To remain in this wretched life for as long as it hasn reached the point of becoming totally unbearable. Yes, he was prepared to tolerate the bleakness of all things, Of darkness, even nothingness itself, All of this perhaps only to prove that life really isn worth an effort, That an early VOLUNTARY DEATH is absolutely ALWAYS justified. Yes, I DO confess. I have a secret wish: I often dream of dying, To dissolve completely, To simply vanish, So that nothing, Not a single grain, Would ever remain of me. No spark, no energy, No further existence for me, But most of all: NO REBIRTH!!! Alas, if I had this chance, this possibility, how free from worries could I be, If I only had this ONE guarantee that there would be NO MORE tomorrows lying in wait for me.

2. The Conqueror Worm

[by Edgar Allan Poe] Lo! 'Tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An Angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears. While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumbe low, And hither and thither fly Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping out their Condor wings Invisible Woe! That motley dram oh be sure It shall not be forgot! With it s phantom cheased for evermore, By a crowd that seize it not, Through a circle that ever returneth in The self-same spot, And much of Madness, and more of Sin And Horror the soul of the plot. But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes! It writhes! With mortal pangs The mimic become it s food, And the angels sob ar virmin fangs In human gore imbued. Out-out are the lights-out all! And, over each quevering form, The curtain, the funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, And the angels, all palid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm

And the play is the tragedy, "Man" And it s hero is the Conqueror Worm.

3. Minnesang
Oh, wie gern' wrd' er Euch knden von der Welt und wie er sie sieht, doch wie knnte von etwas er sprechen, von dem er absolut nichts versteht?! Wie gern' wrd' er Euch singen von der Liebe, die alles durchwebt, doch ihm bleibt nur die traurige Klage, denn noch keinen Tag hat er's erlebt. Ach, wie gern' wrd' er Euch preisen von der Freiheit unendlichem Glck, doch straften dann seine eig'nen Ketten ihn Lgen bei jedem Schritt. Gar wohlbehtet ist sein Leben, und dies gibt ihm die Mglichkeit, leidend im Dunkel langzuliegen, pflegend nur die Traurigkeit. Minnesang, oh Minnesang, unser arsch ist fett, uns're Nase lang. Von gar nichts handelt dieses Lied, da Einfalt nun mal nichts gebiert. Von allen Melodien hat er die traurigste fr sich erwhlt, denn sie gleicht so sehr seinem Wesen und dem malosen Leid, das ihn qult. Eine Sage von Monstern und Feen, ja, von Heiden auch und Zauberkraft, von Bestimmung, von Zufall und Wundern und dem Schlfer, der am End' erwacht. Ja, all dies steht geschrieben schon in dem Buch, das man Schicksal nennt, und obgleich schon vor Zeiten ersonnen, seinen Ausgang hier doch niemand kennt. Ein Buch, das sich in Schweigen hllt, seine Zeilen beim Lesen erst entstehen, damit die neugierig bltternd' Hand nichts als leere Seiten soll seh'n. Minnesang, oh Minnesang, wenn das Ende naht, wird's uns doch schrecklich bang. Von gar nichts handelt dieses Lied, weil Einfalt nun mal nichts gebiert.

4. Von der Einfalt

Bestimmt seit tausend Jahren schon auf dem kalten Grund des Meer's Ach sag', mein Kind, Du kennst den Schlaf: wie lange ist es wohl schon her? Wie Du, so sind auch wir geschlagen und im Tode trumen wir. Du weit, es ist nicht wirklich tot, was dort unten ewig liegt, weil eines Tages ja die Zeit den Tod letztendlich doch besiegt.

5. Hearse-Shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter

[Instrumental]

6. Leeches & Deception

[Instrumental]

7. Extract From: The Voices Of The Dead

Out- out are the lights- out all! And, over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm

8. Do You Know My Name?

What has happened while we slept? We have revived the water... or perhaps it simply woke up on its own. Anticipating... it is murmuring now along its ancient bed. Where is the stone... the tower...that worships...and reveres us? No such a stone is here, I swear...well feeling that there should be On hottest rods we're shooting through the night along a private garden-way... Though we no longer have any business being here On the left-hand side the greenhouse of a market garden... What fragile shoots are being sheltered there?! Merry Rock, dressed in the midnight gown of tears, He is sitting on the floor and cries His eyes are gazing at the western sky... Oh everything seems lost to him Tapping his shoulder gently, My desire hardly concealed: You've done a lot already, and much more you will achieve! Sweet syrup consolation is dripping from my mouth... Can I, myself, believe this solemn vow? I shattered all the mirrors fearfully hoping That they won't be able to remember my face. Darkest of all lights Most greedy to embrace Surrounded by demons

Or breathing in life... Between the tides the time seems endlessly The force of habit or whatever Pulled me back into a well-known pain. What uses the knowledge of my progression When the old world is gone Without a new in sight, with my new found life I am homeless again...

the force of habit or whatever pulled me back into a well-known pain. What uses the knowledge of my progression when the old world is gone without a new in sight, with my new found life I am homeless again... "I don't want to be a perverted temple of my Lord... thought His hand I am I have forgotten how to bear or understand His word..." I am falling down back to the lowest spheres... Do you know my name? Did you answer I just cannot hear...

album: "La Chambre D'Echo" (2004)

The Encoded Cloister Backbone Practise Idleness & Consequence Beyond The Wall Of Sleep Imhotep Hearse-shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter Interlude - The Quiet Earth We Have A Dog To Exercise The Lion's Promise Leeches & Deception The Skeletal Garden Feed The Birds Consolatrix Has Left The Building Day Of The Dead

1. The Encoded Cloister

(the mirror ... is the theatre ... where the autopsy ... begins) please, be so kind to leave this place, none of your kin(d) is wanted here; a dreadful tremor shakes these walls ... your presence vibrates violently. over many years we've built the utmost fragile atmosphere, we cant allow the uninvited visitor(s) to interfere. the balance here's most delicate, and our salvation, if you wish, yes, our existence as a whole is depending on this sacred place. a silence, powerful and true, a minimum of what we seek, pervading everything and all ... it can be heard, can be perceived. this silence, you must understand, a quiet state of rest and calm, is like a temple in itself, keeps the secluded soul(s) from harm. its gentle light is almost dark, a peaceful semble of the tomb, a certain chill's predominant... as most things here have ceased to move. our lord is sleeping in his chambers, the centre of our sanctuary, he's not receiving anyone... he has not seen a soul in years. so long ago our lord's retired from the affaires your world to show, we've never heard your name before... our lord's not well, you have to go. please, be so kind to leave this here; a dreadful termor shakes these walls... your presence vibrates violently. Please ... - leave!

2. Backbone Practise
[unpleasant reminder in a subterranean pathlogy department] we are entering the operation theatre of the familiar morgue: the student nurses are making a lot of noise, their voices echo from the bare tiles walls... I improvise a fainting fit: "I cannot bare these voices anymore...!" the tiny spineless spider, who really is a dog, has hurt herself - or did she get hurt ?- something 'bout her back... oh, does she need a new one? Torso-less she onlydoes consist of legs... much like a crushed little cross, a tiny crucifix. so cautiously she's stalking now across the palm of my right hand, merely a thin branch in the wind, touching the wound... where i had cut my finger. i hand her over to the nurses, one of them - directed me by the teacher carries out theoperation, for which i don't have the knowledge. one day everyone here must fulfil this very task alone, as it's the only way to learn... and in the end become a master... yes, this means responsibility, and it's connected directly to stress and fear. the little spider has her operation on a table that is decorated like a forest, all with thicket and fir trees... and right beside the flashing lights and displays of the instruments. so hear now of the very scene that happend right before this (here): an elephant on the plane roof of a tall cathedral... very close to the edge. "climb down his tail, as if it were a rope! have faith and confidence, believe that he will hold you!" but the elephant is not anchored in the ground, yes, he might have the will to remain in position, perhaps doing everything within his power to hold me, not to slip and fall himself... but in my opinion this is hardly enough. can this be a question of trust, at all ?!? looking out of the window, while the underground moves down into the tunnel ... - a man, who has already passes the elephant-test, says: "fear must be conquered, boy! many of what comes up are merely old fears of death!"

3. Idleness & Consequence

The boy took a stroll the shores of the well-constructed brook, carefully climbed a waterfall, built of semiprecious rock...and gazed at the crystal that he had picked up from the ground. Washing the boy's bare feet, the cold clear water lapped around, murmured silently, as it flew underneath the boy's white gown...so that he, somewhat leaking, became the semblance of a well. As he laid the crystal down again, the pale boy realised that his three-coloured, fair-haired rabbit of luck...and the startled, pale, rattled boy. "Behold, my blood is like MILK, or MERCURY", the pale boy cried. "No, it's not red...more like dancing serpents, of which one is BLACK, the other one WHITE. Two separate, coiling streams that never mix, never unite, but as one they're flowing, flowing...ever flowing side by side!"

4. Beyond The Wall Of Sleep

Every now and then it seems to me that there is greatest danger lying hidden in the depths of sleep ... Saddesty the wanderer ... who is travelling here for far to often ..., or just longer than his mortal mind would bare. From the other world he can never fully return after the passing of a certain period of time, as the forces of the other side are with him all the while, are surrounding his mind, as they are now with him all the time. Obscuring his mind, his spirit, they chain him to this place or state: mind and body will become lethargic, listless and inert, and then, driven by his wounded, he will be longing for nothing more ... except the end itself ... for darkness ... and for death. Every now and then it seems to me that there is greatest danger lying hidden in the depths of sleep ... Saddesty the wanderer ... who is travelling here for far to often ..., or just longer than his mortal mind would bare.

5. Imhotep
[Schwarzer Drache mischt einen Sturm] "...Armes, Dunkles Wolkenkind, hast Dich erneut in Sturm gehullt, im fadenschein'gen Pechgewand Dich selbst in ew'ger Nacht verbannt. Die undurchdringlich' zweite Haut, hat die Grenze zur Welt erbaut...als Eierschale, hart wie Stein, lasst sie kein Licht noch Warme ein. Eiskalte Wande, falsches Haus, kein Leben schlupft aus dir heraus, kein ungeborenes reift heran, nur noch ein zorniger, alter Mann gramt im inneren ewiglich...selbst vor dem Tod furchtet er sich." "Armes, dunkles Wolkenkind, den schlimmsten Kurs dein Geist stets nimmt. Dein Pfad des Grau'ns ist trugerisch, birgt nichts als Schmerz und Leid fur dich; Szenarien Deine Angst ersinnt, die niemals war, nicht wirklich sind. So furchtbar tost der Sturm in dir, dies bose, alte Ungetier lockt aus der Finsternis hervor den garstig zischelnd Schattenchor, der, wie ein kalter, kranker Hauch, sich faulig hauft in Deinem Bauch, und dann als ekler leichenwind Gute und Schonheit von dir nimmt..." "Oh, armes, dunkles Wolkenkind"

6. Hearse-shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter

On the left side ... again ... black fish are being bred ... cultivated in vast amount Harboured by enormous tubs, all of them made of glass,

they are resembling massive moving planes; one of these even has the shape of a gigantic hearse ... could this be some sort of restaurant perhaps? Oh, stupid boy, won't you turn around? Don't you hear the sound of the tocsin ringing in the air?! Climbing up the slope of stairs taking two steps at once ... the vats are rising as he gets higher. Growing steadily now on both sides of the path viciously filling up every space. Only a few meters away from him ... they are joining above his head, like an archway they are building ... a passage; through its transparent walls he can see the black fish moving: like a tunnel, all organic and dark, a black mouth waiting, veiled in hungry architecture, quite perfectly disguised ... yet, (t)his premature entry would be (entirely) unauthorised Oh, stupid boy ..., turn around, this place is most unhealthy ground! Don't you hear the sound of the tocsin ... ringing in the air?!

7. Interlude - The Quiet Earth

Ach, hatt' ich heut' drei Wunsche frei, die Wahll fiel mir nicht schwer, drei Wunsche nur, das reichte aus, ich bracuhte garnicht mehr. Mein erster Wunsch, gesteh' ich gern, war' nur fur mich allein...Ich wurd' vernichten meinen Leib, um nur mehr Geist zu sein. So reist' ich dann-gedankenschnellein einz'ges Mal noch um die Welt, um nachzuseh'n, ob es vielleicht doch etwas gibt, dass mich hier halt... Den zweiten Wunsch, auch das ist leicht, send' ich dann in die Nacht; verseh'n mit einem Bittgesuch,

umd zu beschwor'n die Macht, die richtend dann ihr Urteil spricht, so wie ich's langst gefallt, wischt kurzerhand die Menschheit fort, und erschafft die stille Welt. Mein dritter Wunsch, wie sollt's auch sein, beendet letztes Leid, denn erst mit meiner Ausloschung ist die Erde befreit... Ach, hatt' ich heut' drei Wunsche frei, die Wahll fiel mir nicht schwer, drei Wunsche nur, das reichte aus, ich bracuhte garnicht mehr.

8. We Have A Dog To Exercise

When the old ghost of suicide creeps slowly back into your mind, then everything is bleak and blurred ... down here in the short-sighted world. Yet, this time I have to insist on the sharpness of the things I missed ... this once so loyal friend ..., he's not that welcome anymore. White, fragile porcelain-boy, some minor things shall be left unsaid, yes, you share the strongest desire for beauty, as like all the "enchanted" you are more than blessed with it. The body is a prison-cell ... that like a child needs to be washed and fed ... These are just two of the things that I have a tendency to forget. The heavy smell of rotting flowers is chanting through the prison doors, We kiss the dying world goodbye ... and leave it in good hands at the morque. Well, on the second day of excavation, tell me, what did you expect to find? Be careful when you scratch the surface, 'cause we all have a dog to exercise. We are not lovers, we are LIKERS ... We are merely hands and shake; these are just FOUR from the list of the numberless things of which we're still afraid. We are not familiar with the state of (y)our decay,

Because this is not our line, it is not really our trade. All we know is that our feet are cold and that our sticky hands are wet and that we're here to bring you tidings straight from the CHOIR OF THE DEAD. Look at the boy ... oh, he really suffers, he's caught in fear and its distress; there's no point in looking at him for answers, because he is a stranger here himself. The body is a prison-cell that like a child needs to be washed and fed ... these are just two of the things that I have a tendency to forget.

9. The Lion's Promise

After the boy had taken a walk with his dear - deceased - Grandmother, his feet were somehow led to a small, ancient church, wich was giving quite an imposing grandeur. Partially sunken in the morass if the marshland all foggy and chronically overcast...the ancient house was waiting. The haunted house lies waiting. Clockwise the stone flight is spiralling upwards, but soon the passage becomes too small to get on...even though the boy's now crawling. Anxiously he attempts to restrain, but his way back seems to be obstructed: Gelatinous hearts are linded-up along the walls, each of them inseminated - or defiled - by a black tadpole. A stone lion promises to be the boy's rescue...but only, if he eventually...stops running away...from him...

10. Leeches & Deception

The old monk of a somewhat Thelemite, or "crow"-related order dressed in a torn, old grown of jute, had been locked up in a tiny box inside a wall

this cubic room was painted in dark(est)-red and midnight blue When the door was opened again, he was screaming terribly, as towards the end of his self-imposed isolation he must have suffered from most horrible visions and/or hallucinations, persumely, they had been caused by previous days of his ritual fasting. The images he saw must have been atrocious indeed. The white-haired, bearded monk was in his forties I believe...that's 4 and 0 for the earthen sphere. Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute, because what might look like e cliche is necessity and truth!!! Do not make stupid jokes about the man in the crow-related cowl of jute, because by transforming himself he might be saving me and you. Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute, because what might look like e cliche is necessity and...truth!!! After he was released again a trans-/bisexual vampyre-demon was crawling after him out of the same box. Though this demon/creature should have been dissolved, instead he had just split himself in two halves, dark-red, fat and swollen like a leech...it surely must have been feasting on the poor man while they were both locked up inside the wall. A ritual: (I become a witness of an unexpected ritual, a demonstration.) On the right side of me: a magician hissingly exhales, directing his breath on a spongy, spherical thing; a plexus wich, as a direct reaction to it, is covered by thin, electric flashes, or discharges of blue light Unexpectedly, my hands are beginning to twitch and flash as well, and i have to realise that i am still dirty and soiled, possessed by certain things on un(dis)solved, as it is they who now react to the formula of exorcism! In awe and terror i recognize that such rituals of power, invocations of archetypes must only be performed by the truly initiated, experienced magicians all alone. Not by some superficial silly loser/boy-girl, a mere artist of hot host(test)-air... Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute,

because what might look like e cliche is necessity and truth!!! Do not make stupid jokes about the man in the crow-related cowl of jute, because by transforming himself he might be saving me and you. Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute, because what might look like e cliche is necessity and...truth!!!

11. The Skeletal Garden

Will I become like the old man from next door? Obsessed with fear of losing his mind, he soon couldn't take care of himself anymore. He had no friends or relatives to look after him, only once a week some male nurse dropped in. He was found in his bed, dehydrated... unconscious, as he was, they brought him to a diffrent place. "We have never heard of him since..." He lived alone in his house for most of his life, and I wouldn't be surprised, If he had died the same day they put him in a room with the people he'd never seem before. He had a wild garden behind his house... so beautiful and dark. woodpeckers and squirrels lived there, and hedgehogs, mice and martens. Hazelnut-trees and wild strawberries grew, and cherries, apples and pears, and currants of red and black... all hidden in this private place. In the safety of the shadows the fragile fern slept, along the winding paths the wild-flowers wept, snowdrops noddled their little heads in spring, of which I do not know the names... And, of course, there was ivy everywhere. It happend the same week they took him away workers hacked down all the trees in the garden... hired by the envious people outside... who had always terrified by the beauty that enchanted this place, and the darkness it was breathing.

Yet, none of them could keep the DEAD BIRDS FROM SINGING...

12. Feed The Birds

Zahl' von 11 ruckwarts bis 7, wurd's auf Morgen gern verschieben; frag' mich ob sich noch was lohnt...Tragheit als Einz'ge hier noch wohnt

13. Consolatrix Has Left The Building

Strolling all alone...across the ancient cemetery...tell me, isn't everthing here...of a timeless green?! I see that several visitors are also agthered here, having an idle, little saunter on the old graveyard...just like me. i keep a candle burning for myself so i won't feel all alone; we should have done so, but we never celebrated anythin here at all. A leaden weariness creeps viciously like syrup down the hills, felling everybody...as it crawls upon the monuments...only i escape its power, for the moment seem immune; yet, two elderly ladies, guarding the right, the future tomb are scolding me, so filled with anger, filled with envy and disdain: "The dead are furious with you! as you're wasting your precious time!" Now there are faces in the carpet, there are people living in the walls; I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the hours before dawn!" These moments, fleeting as they are, they testify to us they are the silent witnesses of a reason about to pass; I cannot but admit, carelessly ignoring life's finiteness, that i am filled with fear and worry...and so much shame because of this. Well, everthing I see, yeas all the images are blurred, it's hard to guess the future in the short-sighted world. How should this simple handicap be lightly well ignored, considering the dreadful blindness with wich i have been born. We should have done so, but we never celebrated anything here at all; I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the darkest hours...

...right before the dawn!"

14. Day Of The Dead

Unexpected...suddenly...as if from nowhere they appear, the monks are wearing fire-coloured gowns, their faces, friendly but determined, are hidden behind lacquered masks, painted black&white, they're having the shape of over-dimensional skulls. Quickly and nimbly they are moving forward, hopping dexterously, throwing their legs like ageless jesters...so high up into the air. Each of them is armed with a short, an even piece of wood, remarkably resembling...ancient worn-out washing-boards. Polished to strike ritually...-this is the DAY OF THE remaining DEAD. On this day we celebrate the expulsion, or rebuke, of the spirits wich have unintendedly been dragged along. Some of these ghosts have been forgotten, some have simply been ignored, these remnants with a growing hunger...must be exorcised, must be removed. This ritual always commences without warning, suddenly, therefore it cannot be assigned to a certain date of time. It rather tends to inevitably follow a chain of events, a special spiritual feature inherent in each and everyone of them. Put of the sphere of influence...of the sphere of the days to be the monks are approaching, spinning on their own axis as they dance and sing and hitting every person present dard between the shoulder-blades as everyone here is dragging fidget, invisible..."appendages". As if by change, not expressly invited, we've assembled here today vehemently we are being hit...and driven through the western gates, out of the monastery in the direction of the setting sun a necessary purifying ceremony for the (fragile) days to come...

album: "Les Fleurs Du Mal" (2007)

Architecture (All That's Erected Are The Walls) Always Within The Hour In Der Palaestra A Little Bar Of Soap Bitter Sweet Our Lady Of The Broken Hearts La Mort D'Arthur The Simple Joys Of Maidenhood Helvetia Sexualis Les Fleurs Du Mal Shave If You Love Me Some Men Are Like Chocolate The Virgin Queen

1. Architecture (All That's Erected Are The Walls)

[instrumental]

2. Always Within The Hour

Have I, without knowledge, made a subtle pass at you, or have the poses that are mine to strike then perhaps posed a threat to you? Have I crossed the thin line now, that guards your un-enchanted barn, was it my simple friendliness that stirred the peasants, causing this alarm? Hnsel, call your soldiers back, this witch sticks to her gingerbread. Girlfriends, wives or fiances will save your sacred straightness from disgrace. Such ugliness laid eyes on you in conversation, plain to see. Your signals, clearly advertising, stressing the obvious to me! Oh, bite your tongue, is it too much to ask for, can't you just for once, keep it in. Oh, please don't say it - spare me your painful arrogance! Hnsel, call your soldiers back, this witch sticks to her gingerbread. Girlfriends, wives or fiances will save your sacred straightness from disgrace. Say: Have I, without knowledge, made a subtle pass at you, or have the poses that are mine to strike then perhaps posed a threat to you? Have I, out of saddest habit, stared for too long at one spot? Or has my silence been mistaken for pondering on your private parts? Hnsel, call your soldiers back, this witch sticks to her gingerbread. Girlfriends, wives or fiances will save your sacred straightness from disgrace

3. In Der Palaestra
As through the pipes the waters fell down to the bottom of the well, in listless apathy I gazed at the cold waters - as he bathed. I half behold that scenery and its most sensual masculinity. Yet, disappointment, oh, can't you see, is still the cause and the cardinal symptom of my sick, sad reality. Silver equals chill, but that suits me just fine. I'm shyly sipping water while he drinks whole jugs of wine. He likes all kind of women, and I I only HATE men. He marvels at all things new to him - and I only wait for all things in this sick world to end. The water pouring down his spine, caressed his strong physique, oh, so well-defined, calm like a rock he stands, oh, behold his beautiful body and soul a friendly God must have built this man to an all well-balanced whole. What sad bewilderment this brought, physical clearness, alas, still so much abhorred: an ancient ghost awoke and fiercely arose in me: it was that old, savage, yet half-forgotten ideal of perfect neutrality. Silver equals chill, but that suits me just fine. I'm shyly sipping water while he drinks whole jugs of wine. He likes all kind of women, and I I only HATE men. He marvels at all things new to him and I only wait for all things in this sick world to end. I somewhat envy this naturally beautiful man, he never knew or encountered the hatred and shame that I bare. The doubt, the cloak of disgust and the all-devouring dread, and if I told him about it, he might only shake his head with kindly amused, melodious laughter, he then would perhaps merely smile at my oh, so stupid silliness and the BEAST that is raging inside.

4. A Little Bar Of Soap

I wish I was a little bar of soap I wish I was a little bar of soap I'd go slippy slippy, slimy over everybody's heinie I wish I was a little bar of soap Bar of soap Hmm- ba - bar of soap

Slippy, slippy, slime Hmm-ba - bar of soap Wouldn't that be fine? Oh-hmm-ba - bar of soap Slippy, slippy, slime Hmm-ba - bar of soap To purify your soul and your behind

5. Bitter Sweet
Well this is such a sad affair Ive opened up my heart so many times But now its closed Oh my dear every salted tear It wrings Bitter - sweet applause But when the shows in full swing Every once in a while High stepping chorus lines Mean im forgetting Mein lullaby - liebchen How rich in contrast Love can be Sometimes im quite amused To see it twist and turn To taste - both sweet and dry These vintage years! Lovers you consume, my friend As others their wine Nein - das ist nicht Das ende der welt Gestrandet an leben und kunst Und das spiel geht weiter Wie man weiss Noch viele schnste...wiedersehn And now, as you turn to leave You try to force a smile As if to compensate Then you break down and cry

6. Our Lady Of The Broken Hearts

[instrumental]

7. La Mort D'Arthur
When I was a little child We often walked the country-side in brightest sunlight, or in rain my mother took me by the hand and as she had me in her tow a frown then came upon her brow she turned her head, looked down at me and spoke these words of prophecy: "Kalte Hnde, Froschnatur von der Liebe keine Spur! Hast kalte Hnde, bist Froschnatur, nein, von der Lieb' ist keine Spur!" "Die Frschelein, die frschelein das ist ein lustig Chor. Sie haben ja, sie haben ja kein Schwanzen und kein Ohr" "Die Froschelein, die Froschelein das ist ein kalter Chor Sie haben ja, sie haben ja kein Schwanzchen und kein Ohr"

8. The Simple Joys Of Maidenhood

Where the exit-door leads in he scrutinises circling clockwise counting two out of the three slightly above the first degree "Has there been blood?" he asks politely as once a year we do explore with my head resting on the pillow gateways towards Plutonian shores

Some are caused by downward pressure so don't strain when opening bowels the simple joys of maidenhood the red-eyed fox is on the prowl Rubber-bands for arteries these Indian seeds do soak like flees reduce the use of salts and lose some weight walk half an hour every day I openly dislike your vagueness in handling hours we appoint but when you choose your pronouns rightly I do silently rejoice Some are caused by downward pressure so don't strain when opening bowels the simple joys of maidenhood the red-eyed fox is on the prowl So listen closely girls and boys this song is about hemorrhoids Not anyone's but mine of course a secret part I now disclose

9. Helvetia Sexualis
What is is a game for scholars So: it was sheer necessity nothing but chance that for reasons hidden to the world has led the two souls here Made them equal like dog and owner annoyed but neutral spend the night sharing the same bed they did slumber beneath two blankets ...side by side (oh, please) [2x] It makes no difference to explain How it all came to this 'cause what if is a game for scholars approve and seal it with a kiss!

Quickly erasing your lust, all we inspire is disgust. But then, of course, you can never be sure. and that's the ghost that's haunting you !!! (Let me tell you about love Its not expensive Would you like to try?) Familiar causes made me shiver mainly with chill this foetus coiled Apologies did only soothe his anger but explanations could not avoid him winding down the ancient form the spell of insecurity that liturgy which cruelly pointed out the difference between him and me I can't be bothered to explain how it all comes to this because all causes are "familiar" accept and seal it with a kiss The larch, and not the morning-cock beheld two spoons our cook had graced and as our hero woke, he found his left arm still around my waist he rose, and I, the ugly child born of the shadow sphere allowed my thoughts to briefly travel to a world... too far from here where it's the cock that greets the morning and piles have meanings unlike their faces here ... but what if is a game for scholars not, baby. so try your best now to hide the tears He said, as he walked to the bathroom: "I am not at all like you !!!" "Well I don't have the slightest idea what you could possibly be referring to. But rest assure, man, because whatever this most dreadful thing might be be sure that our difference is more than obvious to the world outside ... and me!" Quickly erasing your lust, all we inspire is disgust But then, of course, you can never be sure and that's the face that's frightening you !!!

I can't be bothered to explain, how it all comes to this, 'cause what if is a game for scholars and it's called: HELVETIA SEXUALIS

10. Les Fleurs Du Mal

Oh, I the wetly weak claw led by his strong warm paw walking the forbidden path through high uncut summer grass while hunters nose dive membranes servants to their flight were buzzing all around our heads black parasol, balance and shades Those little bells on my fool's cap all witness to my sad defect crowning my pale seriousness in most ridiculous distress The smile on his weather-tanned face his white teeth somewhat out of place the gentle roughness of his hands dark soil staining his fingernails Ushered into the forest's hold I'm folding up my parasol heralding fears of deprivation in answer to my hesitation he's parting the branches as we move I dare a smile in shy excuse Oh does he know the ghosts I drag the dreadful ending I expect? The boyish hand of this olden maid hints secrets, guarded by her face Does your world know my shadow's near, the loop of time I always fear? The fact that I carelessly stepped into my very own, dark trap? You stride, I'm glancing at your belt ... should I miss ay of the things I never felt? The shaking hand of this olden maid instead waters the flowers

on her ancient grave.

11. Shave If You Love Me

Wax the monkey, shave the bear Jungle-creatures won't be fed in here trim the hedges, cut the trees then you'll know how affection feels Shave the monkey, wax the bear Such hairy creatures cannot stay in here Trim the hedges, and trim the tree who is there hiding in the shrubbery?! Where there's a hole there is an ace I will put a smile on your grumpy face Beefcake vegetarian We're oiled, refined, and slightly tan If we're the heat wave then you're the fan and now we'll gladly carry out the garbage-can we're fifty something, well-aged wine if you're wooden in your cask that's just fine. I'll be your garland queen of Lace the Sleeping Beauty in our maze oh, fifty something well aged win me, the wooden cask, that's fine I know you like me to watch you piss you're only waiting to be kissed you're such a beauty to behold here comes a shower and it's made of gold I'm a flower, water me let's build a castle by the sea! You're like the sun-shine, morning breeze the sun shines warm on your disease ... such pollen makes the black birds sneeze. Who is there sitting on your back? There is no need for a sneak attack! If you're monastic to my bliss.

Then I will be faithful ... like syphilis. Poor friar dreaming in his cell(s) he knows the art of tonsure well. and all the songs a blade can sing sugh is the Easter that I bring" The bells are chiming in (y)our vaults, I am the goddess that unfolds iconic beauty, as yet unseen if you're only courting the Virgin Queen so: Wax the monkey, shave the bear jungle-creatures cannot come in here. Trim the hedges and cut the trees then you'll know how affection feels.

12. Some Men Are Like Chocolate

Gentle words, had been my weapons careful openness and fragile honesty had gradually begun to slowly win him over ... and somehow had lured him here. Despite my obvious display of defect my miserable frailty, of which I never made a secret I disarmed him with my sincerity that never waned, despite the laughter of public insult, ridicule not even when confessing meant turning myself into a wretched fool. Some men are like chocolate but most of them are like shit and if you don't have the experience to spot that tiny difference you're likely to fall for all of it. In secret, on those rare occasions when no living soul was near,

no eyes, no ears, no other people were around to see or hear so there was no danger of some chance intruder to doubt his manliness and strength ... then suddenly his words grew gentler. and his gestures slightly changed. He did not seem to mind my presence at all came even closer of his own accord, yet still he veiled each subtle revelation in rough-cut gowns of what we call the "ACCIDENTAL TOUCH" Some men can truly be like chocolate but most of them are more like SHIT, and if you don't have the experience to spot that tiny difference you're very likely to fall for all of it Alas, some men are like chocolate but most of them are like SHIT and if you don't have the experience to spot that subtle difference you're likely to fall for only the promise of a kiss.

13. The Virgin Queen

Panda-ghost-face oh, dear me I do still ponder on the old "first question" I ever raised was by mistake, a "singular" one. Handsome and straight I only detect the safety of denial the "masculinear", slap in the face there are some tears I shall never cry Brothers in arms I tend to ignore I am sadly waving a sigh from the other shore It is by far not an easy thing to delight the barrent heart of the Virgin Queen. There is not a man walking this earth that I would like to watch I do not care about your pretty face

I never thought about your crotch! I do not marvel at your body be it athletic or fat I do not long for your sick kiss there is no room for you in my bed! There's no magic-man wandering here, who's wand I'd want to touch! Well, I don't mind a handsome face but none shall ever make me blush! I never bowed before a statu(r)e for I'm the Gorgon's work of art, I am not dying to be kissed there's no fire in my well-sedated heart Sailors, soldiers, cops and rangers and fire-fighters too ... some like a man in uniform, well, I confess ... I do. Auf Pfederucken wohnt das Gluck Schau, dieser hengst ist gut bestuckt! It is, by far, not an easy thing to delight the heart of the Virgin Queen Oh, sailors, soldiers, cops, and rangers fire-fighters too some like a man in uniform and our queen does too. But she is married to the throne the royal sceptre that she holds she made the greatest sacrifice for the poses she's destined to strike! We're sailors, soldiers, cops and rangers, fire-fighters too, we're marching men in uniform our queen is fair and true Oh, she's so lonely on her throne cold is the sceptre that she holds She made the greatest sacrifice for the poses that she's destined to strike Brothers in arms I tend to ignore, I am sadly waving a sigh from the other shore It is by far not an easy thing to delight the barren heart of the Virgin Queen Brothers in arms she tends to ignore she is sadly waving a sigh

from the other shore it is by far not an easy thing to delight the barren heard of the Virgin Queen ...

album: "Sanatorium Altrosa (Musical Therapy For Spiritual Dysfunction)" (2008)

Consider This: The True Meaning Of Love Architecture II Shave, If You Love Me (Remix) La Mort D' Arthur The Conqueror Worm II In Der Palastra Collision - You May Lie On Your Back, If You Want To ... Even Close Your Eyes To Sleep Les Fleurs Du Mal Bitter Sweet Consider This: The True Meaning Of Love

1. Consider This: The True Meaning Of Love

[Instrumental]

2. Architecture II
Over many years we have erected walls that even he could never penetrate. His well-trained voice is of enormous power as it's based on many years of practise and an iron will of a certain kind ... melodiously it carries wide, pervades each space, regardless of its size. His masculinity contained within is simply undeniable in so many pleasant ways. Neither his age, advanced as it may be, nor the baldness of his head, could ever detract from the strength that still obeys and moves his aging flesh. His manhood still unbroken and impressive in so many pleasant ways. He is well aware of the looks he has and gets and knows to calculate the strong effect he has,

make an impression and achieve a certain aim. This strategy works fine for him, as his tremendous sexuality, projected energy, directed with greatest skill and care, can even make his rivals joyfully obey his secret wishes ... - follow his orders with delight. Watching such an act being performed, if only from a afar, will never leave you unimpressed, even though you may be unobserved ... he will etch his sign into your heart. He can make you come just by looking at you, it is such a rare gift ... -and quite frightening too.

3. Shave, If You Love Me (Remix)

Wax the monkey, shave the bear Jungle-creatures won't be fed in here trim the hedges, cut the trees then you'll know how affection feels Shave the monkey, wax the bear Such hairy creatures cannot stay in here Trim the hedges, and trim the tree who is there hiding in the shrubbery?! Where there's a hole there is an ace I will put a smile on your grumpy face we're fifty something, well-aged wine if you're wooden in your cask that's just fine. I'll be your garland queen of Lace the Sleeping Beauty in our maze oh, fifty something well aged win me, the wooden cask, that's fine I know you like me to watch you piss you're only waiting to be kissed you're such a beauty to behold here comes a shower and it's made of gold I'm a flower, water me let's build a castle by the sea!

You're like the sun-shine, morning breeze the sun shines warm on your disease ... such pollen makes the black birds sneeze. Who is there sitting on your back? There is no need for a sneak attack! If you're monastic to my bliss. Then I will be faithful ... like syphilis. Poor friar dreaming in his cell(s) he knows the art of tonsure well. and all the songs a blade can sing sugh is the Easter that I bring" The bells are chiming in (y)our vaults, I am the goddess that unfolds iconic beauty, as yet unseen if you're only courting the Virgin Queen.

4. La Mort D' Arthur

[Instrumental]

6. The Conqueror Worm II

Can I trust you, mortal boy? You say, you love me - oh, sure you do - , but what exactly does this affirmation mean? I do not have the slightest notion, no idea of what you understand by "love" and other terms as worn-out such as this old song and dance, you call romance. Quite different flowers grow indeed in my small semantic garden ... so, let us see, if your good vow is more than just some chemical imbalance. Is it worth the air you breathe, or will it be just another waste of time with you? What I call "Love, precious and true", would you refer to this as sin,

or crime and all that silly crap? Now, let me put you to the test: How often have I heard these words: "I love you so much, dearest dear, that I would die for you, right now, right here!" Sure, doing this they're sitting pretty, but I say: piss on it, because this way is far too easy !!! But: do you also have the strength to be there for me till the end? Would you have courage, live for me, respect my wishes, my decree? Would you defend me against the world, fight the doctors playing God, slap your priests, if they came near, or anyone who interferes ?!? Is the version of your Love as true, that you would use all means within your power just to meet the urgent plea, that solemn, final wish for dying of a helpless her or him, who lies in pain, who's suffering, now only begging for the end ... -is your "Love" that of a true friend? If I lay crying in my bed, waiting, no longing for the end, if I decide my time has come, would you then be that trustful one to guard this chamber, break this shell, and free me from this living hell by making sure my death is swift. Would you grant me that sacred gift ?!? Now that you've heard it, let me know: Are you then willing to let go ?!? Say: would you do all this for me, would you respect my wishes, my dignity? Because that's what LOVE means to me !!!

7. In Der Palastra
[Instrumental]

8. Collision - You May Lie On Your Back, If You Want To ... Even Close Your Eyes To Sleep
[Instrumental]

9. Les Fleurs Du Mal

Sadly masculine his naked body lies beside me, stretched out on the pale sheets of my otherwise deserted bed. I do not know how he got here. I am not even sure, if I am hiding him. Trophy or lost property ... -did I drag him to this place, slave to some dark desire, or have I merely found him here in childlike innocence and curiosity? Assuming blackness, his left nipple is now facing me ... -the same old symbol for reality, further than ever from attraction (except, of course, for crawling things). But we're all crawling on some floor ... you will not tease me, nevermore !!! His head now points towards the window in the west, his feet towards the door, his limbs in slight disorder after my vain attempt to move him over to a slightly different position. I fear that the disturbance of his rest has caused some liquid "correspondence" to escape his quiet, oh so human shell.

What secrets do you hide in there? Leaning my face against the left side of his flesh, I place my right hand gently now upon his belly, hoping not to wake the horrors of that half-forgotten sense ... I can't believe that I do actually consider this again: I must refuse to share my bed now with carcass of a man! No vicious jokes to break the fragile little heart, this is the deeper secret of the worlds we are apart ... Is this perhaps some kind of test? Shall I have vengeance on your flesh? Now that you're dead am I supposed to inflict that sentence on your corpse? To pay you back the laughter, that never really flooded from your mouth. Would your thin lips have ever released such agony and shame on me? Scared to death by and of my own request ... -maybe like this it's really for the best. I'll seal your carcass with a kiss ... and let you disappear...

10. Bitter Sweet

[Instrumental]

11. Consider This: The True Meaning Of Love

[Instrumental]

EP: "A Triptychon Of Ghosts Part One - A Strange Thing 2 Say" (2010)
A Strange Thing To Say Polishing Silver The Urine Song Stains Of You 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea (Or: The History Of Steampunk... - Abridged) Oh, Chimney Sweep

1. A Strange Thing To Say

I know it must seem to you like the strangest thing to say, but in the winter of his presence I've always felt warm and safe. I always knew no skirt no suit would ever bother me, as long as he is present, as long as this man stayed close to me. I do like his company, I enjoy it, in fact, he's the only human friend that I ever had, which is quite ironic, 'cause he's mostly occupied by the methods that exist to blow out people's lights ... I wouldn't be surprised at all, if someday I found out that he had thoroughly checked on my life and on my background, and confidently reconfirmed by the things he didn't find, he then granted me access to a small part of his secret life ... I know it must seem to you like the strangest thing to say, but in the winter of his presence I've always felt warm and safe ... I never had to worry though, it can't give me the chills, because, you see, men are the only species that he kills. Oh, that's why I love his company, quite enjoy it, in fact, he is the only human friend that I ever had. I rarely ponder on him in the wayward hours of the day, but am surprised at my own delight I find in seeing him again. White shirt, black tie, exquisite twine, I'm brewing tea, he's having wine. It's quite seductive, if it's right, the perfect way to spend the night ...

I do like his company, I enjoy it, in fact, he's the only human friend that I ever had, which is quite ironic, 'cause he's mostly occupied by the methods that exist to blow out people's lights ... I never had to worry though, it can't give me the chills, because, you see, men are the only species that he kills. Oh, that's why I love his company, quite enjoy it, in fact, he is the only human friend that I ever had. Each act performed is like a ballet, a prayer, precise and acute. Oh, how I do admire such perfect business-like attitude, both in style and execution, virtuously immaculate ...and flawlessly equated to the savage fee that he has set. Built just like the ideal of an athlete, my champion of sorts. His price is one that only broken hearts are willing to afford. Death is always quite disastrous, messy, common and obscene, but in the golden hour when he leaves all is stainless, all is clean ... If I, one day, might also decide to need this special kind of service that this man provides, oh, I will pray that my fate kindly agrees to the plot, and sends someone like this man to come and finish the job. Because I just cannot bear the foul and blasphemous thought that involves getting slain by some filthy amateur's hands. I know it must seem to you like the strangest thing to say, but in the winter of his presence I always felt warm and safe. I know that you must surely think me mad, but he's the most human friend that I ever had ...

2. Polishing Silver
I could be like a snowflake fallen all the way from heaven into a magpie's nest, only to place my powdered cheek gently upon his hairy chest. I could be his Maiden Marianne gift-wrapped in cloak and silken hood, oh, a robin-redbreast sitting high up in the tree-tops ...of his mo(u)rning wood. I need, I need a silver-furred a sugar sugar-daddy-bear, someone who loves the front of me, who likes to pay and loves to care. A frizzly ursus, strong but cute,

adorable in leather, denim or tweed-suit. I'd polish silver, 'cause I long to be spooned on the dark, dark side of the palest moon ... Mandrake grows beneath the gallows in the shape of the one thing that you should never swallow. I know, he may look like the cutest thing you've ever seen but, Honey, we just don't know where this old thing of his had been ... I almost had a secret love affair with a dead boy's underwear. I nicked it from the mortuary, but the damn thing was far too small for me. That's why each time I hear the postman ring, I can't help wondering what he might bring. Oh, will he have something for me, and, if so, I wonder ... how large will his package be? The chimney-sweep, the chimney-sweep, he came at two o'clock, I showed him where the furnace was, and he showed me his cock. He wore a bomber-jacket, black, but his hair-cut was crap, it took him rather long to finish his annual check ... A sylvan stronghold for the golden child, built and looked after by heart beguiled. A guard, a servant and a loyal king, a winter-garden and a thermal-spring ...

3. The Urine Song

Do you feel - most people do - depressed, when you go to the lou? That's just because it reminds you of the love you've lost. Well, if you're fed up being sad, come, try a new approach instead: There's a fountain made of gold, a gift straight from the underworld ... Once you've washed your face in piss, you'll realise its sacred bliss. You'll never waste that precious gold ...open your hands ... and make a bowl!!! Es ist ein magisch' Elexier, und es heit "Urin", tote Kinder kennen's schon, es macht Dich wunderschn.

Spre ich also dann und wann, wie der Harn mich drngt, merk' ich, es ist an der Zeit, da ich mich selbst beschenk' ... Ich piss mich an, ich piss mich voll, denn mein Urin ist wundervoll. Ich babe mich in meinem Glck, kleide in gold mich Stck fr Stck, bis ich wie die Sonne strahle, ganz ihr leuchtend Ebenbild, Urin, der schnste Engel hier, verleiht mir Rock und Schild. Dir doch mal etwas Zeit fr Dich, piss' in die Hnde und reib's ins gesicht. Der Zauber Deine liebe befreit, die trumend liegt in Deinem Unterleib ...

4. Stains Of You
[instrumental]

5. 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea (Or: The History Of Steampunk... - Abridged)
In my version of the story, Nemo makes out with Arronax, below the surface of the oceans, in the uncharted, murky depths. In those lower regions of this world, where the cruel light reaches not, they kiss and touch, and kiss again ...oh, and then distroy some battle-ships ... In Captain Nemo's study, that red velvet lounge, after those symbolical cigars, they take turns playing that big organ ...wild symphonics that shake the walls. In my version of the story, on that old loveboat "Nautilus(t)", they are cruising happily forever ...Oh, and blowing battle-ships to dust.

6. Oh, Chimney Sweep

[Bonus Track] Oh, Chimney Sweep The Chimney Sweep he came at two o'clock, I showed him where the furnace was, and he showed me his cock. Chicken pox The Chimney Sweep The Chimney Sweep he came at two o'clock, I showed him where the furnace was, and he showed me his cock. Chicken pox Chicken pox

album: "A Triptychon Of Ghosts Part Two - Have You Seen This Ghost?" (2011)
I Don't Believe In Ghosts One Day My Prince Will Come Cornuscopia d'Amour It Is Safe To Sleep Alone Hello At The Stroke Of Midnight Gently Starlight Seen Through Veils Of Tears Powder Angel Of The Golden Fountain Where The Ancient Laurel Grows I Fell For One Who Loves Me Not Holding Out For A Hero The Hours Of Sadness

1. I Don't Believe In Ghosts

[instrumental]

2. One Day My Prince Will Come

I know one Day my Prince will come,

no need for him to be well hung: He will have other Qualities, some of which you have ... never seen ...before. I struggled in my girlish mind trying so hard to dream up my only Mister Right... ...But not a single vision ever came to me...such is the Love that is not meant to be... Oh, illusive, Amphibian, in on a poisonous scheme, in his inditrious house dwells the old Sham of a Beast; beware, the walls are made of glass... yes, all here imitates Life, and the Symptoms of your Sadness are the Key to this place... There are two precious holes left in the transparent lif, once, in a gesture of Hope, glued to the Barrel's sharpest Edge; the larger one of the Tunnles allows the channeled Waters to flow, because the other One's the Exit Door where the air comes and goes... The Bubbles of the spectacle unfold their Magic(k), obscene, the offered rivers all turn lethal as the large Frog disappears, through Veils of sickest Transformation, the oldest of all gestures is born; a Miniature of a Prince appears and He is dancing on the Crystal floor... It is imperative now to empty your bladder and your bowls, in only 3 glorious Days the Prince, he stretcyes & GROWS, all to It s pre-destined size, bearing Love's promise of Life; through the disease of a toy we face our secret Desire. I know... one day my prince will come, no need for him to be well hung, He will have other Qualities, a whole Bouguet of Flowers yet unseen before. I struggled in my girlish mind trying... oh,so hard... to dream up my own Mister Right... But not a single vision ever came to me... as I was polishing the armoury. Gone is the fragile Beauty the good Fairies have called, once the tide of the fourth day washes over shores, grown into oddless angler, all distorted & wrong, so grotesque beyond comprehension, a royal Dick tries to come...

3. Cornuscopia d'Amour
I do not eat because I'm hungry, though... this sometimes happens too, I only eat because I'm lonely and I got nothing else to do. I recently discovered it's the perfect Way to pass the Time, I'm wolbing down all kinds of Shit, to fill the Emptiness inside. I tend to live on Chocolate now, for Reasons I mentioned above, the Fridge's become my new best friend, and Food... my substitute for Love. I do not really go for Taste, there's no such thing as 'good or bad', I get no joy from eating food 'cause all things taste the same...- I'm fat. I've banned all Mirrors from my home, I cannot bear them judging me, I feel... I'm gaining weight each day. I hate myself enough for three. I do not eat because I'm hungry, well, yes... that sometimes happens too, I mostly eat because I am alone, and I've got nothing else...to do.

4. It Is Safe To Sleep Alone

It is In a And In a safe to sleep alone place no one knows to seek life under stones place water flows.

It is best to find in sleep The missing pieces that you lost Best that you refuse to weep Ash to ash, dust to dust. It is strange to sleep alone In a place no one knows Strange to shelter under stones

In a place water flows. It is safe to walk with me Where you can read the sky and stars, Safe to walk upon the sea In my sleep we can go far. It is In a And In a safe to sleep alone place no one knows to shelter under stones place water flows.

It is strange to sleep alone In a place no one goes, Strange to seek life under stones. In my sleep no one knows.

5. Hello
I've been alone with him inside my mind And in my dreams He kissed my lips a thousand times I sometimes see him pass outside my door Hello, is it me you're looking for? I can't see it in your eyes I can't see it in your smile He's all I've ever wanted, (and) my arms are open wide 'Cause he know just what to say And he know just what to do And I want to tell him so much, I ... I long to see the sunlight in his hair And he will tell time and time again how much he care Sometimes I feel my heart will overflow Hello, I've just got to let him know: 'Cause I wonder where you are And I wonder what you do Are you somewhere feeling lonely, or is someone loving you? Tell me how to win your heart For I haven't got a clue But let me start by saying, I ... Hello, it's not me you're looking for Though I wonder where you are And I wonder what you do

Are you somewhere feeling lonely or is someone loving you? Tell me how to win your heart For I haven't got a clue But let me start by saying ... I ...

6. At The Stroke Of Midnight Gently

If the face of Love is like that of a clock, then its little Hand is represented by a Cock. At the stroke of midnight then, if you catch my drift, he arrived at the fabulous Cruising-ground, 'cause one of the guys... well... he gave him a Lift. Scott, my goodness, in fishnet, is such a Heart-warming sight: A Butch Queen walks for the first time in drag tonight. He's like a new-born child, despite the ancient Ghosts in Tow. Oh, blessed be the wonders that a wig and Eye-Shadow can do... If the face of Love is like that of a Clock, then it's (hopefully medium-size) little Hand...- Eh, been there: it's a COCK!!! Gently comes the Midnight stroke, sometimes given, sometimes bought. The saddest thing of all the lot is that fleeting Ghost of Lust...

7. Starlight Seen Through Veils Of Tears

Is it a Belly of Muscles I see shaping underneath that turtleneck? I never ever dreamt having the rusty trunk of a car against my Backside... That's poison for my piles, the street is glimmering, 'cause it had rained all night. Please, do not think that I don't appreciate your generous Offer of a Ride... home. I am curious now, how many pirouettes can a straight Man like you spin, until his Compass-points all begin to blur, and his Needle finally gives in? Am I expected now to do my best and try to catch you when you fall? But you're a heavy Guy and like this we'll only end up lying on the floor. Look, what the Rain has done, snow-white has scattered her Mirrors like petals on the Ground. So I sense a one-eyed Serpend rising slowly now from behind this old thundering Cloud? Was it a trick of the Evening-star,

or had I been blinded by the passing lights, Could it be that I really saw myself reflected in his green-grey Eyes? It's hard to waltz precissely when his towering stature casts its Shadow all over me. But since he's leading now (anyway), I might just as well step onto his feet...

8. Powder
I once made a Confession, it won't happen again, I've killed all my Desires after that fateful Day... I once had an Erection, well... sort of... at the Age of Five, we fumbled in the Bushes, Yes, we made out in broad daylight. Not sandbox, slide or jungle-gym, entertained a different whim: our groins playfully occupied... it was our first and only time. Because I failed to take into account that my Sickness would be spread around: All the Parents gave advice to shun that dirty little Fairy who was out to stain their precious sons... Sometimes, in those lonely Hours, I can hear His voice in my Head, the most erotic Promise that a Man has ever made: "If you were a landscape Love, a kingdom I came passing through, I'd stop and reach down for my Penis and urinate all over You." I once had an Aquaintance too, who liked to wrestle me (me me), he'd put me in a Headlock or he'd simply sit on Top of me. One sunny day then I found out that touching me got him aroused, which gave a whole new meaning to the Squats our Gym-coatch made us do... ... Where he had to sit on my Shoulders all Sweat & sighs, my Head embedded firmly between his strong warm Thighs. Perhaps all this got me somewhat predisposed... ... for butch guys, Bears and things you're not supposed to do... Sometimes, in those lonely Hours,

I can hear His voice in my Head, the most erotic Promise that a Man has ever made: "If you were a landscape Love, a kingdom I came passing through, I'd stop and reach down for my Penis and urinate all over You."

9. Angel Of The Golden Fountain

Fhl' ich mich einsam und allein, Nehm' ich ein Glas und Pinkel hinein, Und fhr' ich es dann zu meinen Lippen hin, Wei ich, dass ich niemals alleine bin. Schnheit kommt wahrlich stets von Innen her, Darum in ein Glas ich meine Blase entteer, Und ist mein Geschmeide auch dem Silber angetraut, So spr ich dies Gold doch so gern auf meiner Haut... Merkt auf, ich bin reich, eine Feenknigin, Trag' ich doch einen unermesslichen Schatz in mir drin; Ob taugleich am Morgen als Labsal abends spt, Ja, Trpfchen fr Trpfchen ist hier alles Qualitt. Ach, fhl' ich mich mal einsam und ganz frchterlich allein, Ja, dann nehm ich mir ein Glas und pinkel flugs hinein, Und fhr' ich es dann noch huldvoll zu den Lippen hin, Ja, dann wei ich ganz genau, dass ich nie allein bin. Bisweilen bernsteinfarben und dann wieder kristallklar, Ach, mein himmlischer Urin ist mir Ambrosia, Funkelnd wie ein Wunderwerk im ersten Sonnenlicht, Sein warmer Glanz, ein Engelschauch, auf Krper und Gesicht. Sieh', mein kugelrunder Wattebausch, wie er flauschig weich in das Perlenreich taucht; Und herzt Du den Zauber zu nchtlicher Stund sind Wunden bald fort, und Du fhlst Dich gesund. Ach fhl' ich mich mal einsam und allein, dann nehm' ich mir ein Glas und Pinkel hinein, Und fhr' ich es dann zu meinen Lippen hin, dann wei ich ganz genau, dass ich niemals alleine bin.

10. Where The Ancient Laurel Grows

I wish that he and I at least once in a While

had something small in common ...- a secret, if you like. But there's no common ground here, not a single thing we share, on the same Planet we live, but in two different Worlds. He clearly did not like me, that part was plain to see, the very moment that he laid his grey Eyes on me, His buff, muscular body like the old clich Marine, Oh, not too many times before (thank goodness) have I seen... So much contemp on a single white Man's face, his Fists were cluteched so tightly that his brute fingernails left bleeding Marks in the rouch palms on his Hands...all just to ensure that we would never become friends! If I felt like jesting now, which, believe me, I am not, I might compare his red face to a boiling teapot, or an old Locomotive, far too quickly building up steam, its mightly Kettle seen to expolode, if he finds no quick Release. Do you think it's strange of me to hope someday he will marry me, or at least feel the strongest need to hold me when I fall & bleed? Oh, I wish that he and I were just a little more alike, or had a tiny Thing in common ...- oh, wouldn't that be nice... Yes, he sleeps nakedly, while I always sleep fully dressed. He is full of Life, I am mostly depressed. I guess, that's why I wish that he would want to take a walk with me through lonely Fields of Sorrow, the only place I've ever seen... In vagued Daydreams I'm dreaming about Stains of his Semen, put precisely on me, more as a ... "theory". Sometimes I wish that He would fondly think of me each time he strokes his Penis...- or when the Clock strickes Three.

11. I Fell For One Who Loves Me Not

I fell for one who loved me not, the same old Lines was really all that he had got; then my Illusions, one by one, they quickly fell apart...-

Not a single of these Things took any effort on his Part. Believe me when I say that all Actors are Whores, I got this on the best Authority. Believe me when I tell you all Actors are Whores. Especially the male Variety!!!

12. Holding Out For A Hero

Where have all the good men gone And where are all the gods? Where's the street-wise Hercules To fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night He's gotta be strong And he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light He's gotta be sure And it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger than life Somewhere after midnight In my wildest fantasies Somewhere just beyond my reach There's someone reaching back for me Racing on the thunder end rising with the heat It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet Up where the mountains meet the heavens above Out where the lightning splits the sea I would swear that there's someone somewhere Watching me Through the wind end the chill and the rain And the storm and the flood I can feel his approach Like the fire in my blood Where have all the good men gone

And where are all the gods? Where's the street-wise Hercules To fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero, you know, 'til the end of the night He's gotta be strong And he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light He's gotta be sure And it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger... larger than life

13. The Hours Of Sadness

Comes the golden Light of the Dogday afternoon... waiting for the sacred Hour when he comes to my Room. He brings me Flowers beautiful, he's been doing that for Years, and photographic Memories, Trophies of his... Victories... ... Vouchers of Conquests, boldly flagged, streaming high... on Mass of Battle-ships, sailing on the troubled Seas, Waters of dull Aquaintances, spread out on the Blackness here of this shroud-like tablecloth crocheted...glossy Evidance of Lust, of all the handsome Men he had. Like an Assassin's Game of Cards, unshuffled Oracle of Love, of one Nightstands, half hearted Loss, stolen Kisses, past Jerk-offs. Liassons that went nowhere, fleeting Moments, without Hope or Care, all laid out now before me here between Dessert Plates & cups of Tea. I feel for him as I feel for no other Man, but Sadness is the only Thing that he and I will ever share...

Each Polaroid, it bears a young, but slightly out-of-focus Face, white Teeth exposed in Flashlight-smiles, well-defined Bodies, strong & tanned... Names & Numbers, Cyphers traced like Promises upon each Frame, according to the features shown; sadly, all poses look the same. I hardly speak, I rarely do, my role is just to sit & listen to the Tales he unfolds, offers to me, his palest "Hunt of Agony"... ...the sexless priest, the joyless Clown, who never judges, only frowns, Sipping tea & offering Chocolate Cake, for it does concole the Heart that lies in Ache. The fading portraits on my walls, dead people I have never met, unlike his photos, Trophies all, decount to Lovers, Men he had... I feel for him as I feel for no other Man, but Sadness is the only Thing that he and I will ever share...

album: "A Triptychon Of Ghosts Part Three - Children Of The Corn" (2011)
Children Of The Corn Bis Zum Hahnenschrei Cornflowers The Curse Of The Mummy Night Of The Scarecrow To Walk Behind The Rows Harvest Moon

1. Children Of The Corn

There's not a shred of beauty here residing in the human flesh, there's only sadness and confusion, and the stench oh shit and death. In moments, dull, of self-pity of insufficiency and doubt, I catch myself, black-handed thief wishing that there'd be someone else. Sometimes ghosts are passing through the mind, both labyrinth and tomb, and yet it's still unrivalled here, Because all things unborn, only ideas, are sleeping safely far beyond the horrors of decay, and are thus sacred and immortal, because they never had to fade. Thumbing at times harlf-heartedly through flip-books of a lonely child, old silent movies shake and flicker in the dark theatre between my thighs. Then countless are the heads and limbs that wildly jump atop soulless bodies, unspecific, as they are numberless and cropped. When you close your tired eyes, does he then join you to this place ? Will he cross over, share your dream, or does he vanish on the doorstep, all too quickly disappear ? Alas reality is such a crippled whore, all mortal things are sick and rotten to the core, only the mind, that frail, but kingly jewel, gives birth to beauty, love and truth.

2. Bis Zum Hahnenschrei

Was ist das Geheimnis von der seltsamen Attraktion, wenn er auf der Seite liegt, voll, bekleideit, erigiert... ? Mach' die Augen zu Mach' die Augen zu Keine Gest und keine Wort f hrt sein Gedanken fort Wahr ist's schlie lich g'rade dann, wenn niemals geschehen kann. Er ist kalt, man sicht den Hauch, Aten hebt und senkt den Bauch, Und der dunklen Unterwelt hat er sich zu mir gesellt...

3. Cornflowers
If I had... Oh, if I only had a proper cunt I would be delighted to lift my skirt for you. I would gladly take your hard cock in my hands and bury it, ever so deeply, in the darkness of my tomb. Come, my handsome ghost of lust, and masturbate for me I promise, it will get you out of your misery I have been sleeping on the flours for days... to keep myself from dreaming, a punishment for things delayed and maybe for disbelieving. Don't scare away the old crows in the field, walking in lumber... through rows and rows of corn. I am madly in love with a sad illusion, don't you see... but, then again, aren't we all ? He will build a temple, a temple for your Schwanz, and he will build it with his mouth. He will chant the poetry, words of heartfelt longing, all through the lonely midnight hours. If I had a proper cunt, I'd lift my skirt for you,

I'd take your hard cock in my hands and bury it deeply in my tomb.

4. The Curse Of The Mummy

Do not drink the milk he brought. Older men bear poison in their hearts.

5. Night Of The Scarecrow

[Instrumental]

6. To Walk Behind The Rows

I climbed the stairs up to his floor and placed the box outside his door I did not speak, said not a word, left as I came... unseen... unheard. Threefold the sign had marked this day, to end a love, one-sided, fey: the sickle and the morning-star and the brightest moon... O, virgin I, unanswered bride, have freed myself from you. I, like ether, veiled in shadow and in silver light, sever all the wicked ties that used to bind me, bind me to the likes of him. Go.

7. Harvest Moon
[Instrumental]