1. |
||||
2. |
[A2] Forewood
08:27
|
|||
MASS CULTURE - FOREWOOD
Crawling to your reality . Imprisoned to your sickness
Confined to your wall . Lifeless to be torn again
Decreasing
The portion
The core of your inside
A ritual
A sigil of mind
A prayer's night
The sinking
You're rising in time
A light of flesh
It's reeking of winter
No path
This rotten kind
|
||||
3. |
[A3] Eterneal
07:06
|
|||
MASS CULTURE - ETERNEAL
Smaller than one
Bemeaned by the sun
A sphere of decay
Bleaching this play
A tramp or a king?
This cross of nothing
Naively prime
An island of time
Thrusting into the ways of the man
Solemnly one
Shine as the union rattles away
Raging disease
Craving again for something unknown
Grasping the throne
Stabbing the freedom, shifting the eye
Prying the light
|
||||
4. |
[B1] We, the Few
06:00
|
|||
FIELDS OF LOCUST - WE, THE FEW
We,
We are the romanticised fools of the earth
With our hearts aflame and our eyes ablaze
We think and love beyond redemption
A thousand suns rush through our veins
and always we are hunted by the vision of the vast
Ever untamed by the norm
We who fell in love with the essence of our being
and in all our loves this is what we fall for still
We are the great enthusiasts and the great refusists
We hold the whole world within us
and we are nothing of this world
Paint our days in wildfire and drown our nights in waves
Resounding laughter all around us
We are the heralds of chaos
ΕΜΕΙΣ ΟΙ ΛΙΓΟΙ, ποίημα του Γιώργου Μακρή
Είμαστε εμείς οι ονειροπαρμένοι τρελλοί της γης
με τη φλογισμένη καρδιά και τα έξαλλα μάτια.
Είμαστε οι αλύτρωτοι στοχαστές και οι τραγικοί ερωτευμένοι.
Χίλιοι ήλιοι κυλούνε μες στο αίμα μας
κι ολούθε μάς κυνηγά το όραμα του απείρου.
Η φόρμα δεν μπορεί να μας δαμάσει.
Εμείς ερωτευτήκαμε την ουσία τού είναι μας
και σ’ όλους μας τους έρωτες αυτήν αγαπούμε.
Είμαστε οι μεγάλοι ενθουσιασμένοι κι οι μεγάλοι αρνητές.
Κλείνουμε μέσα μας τον κόσμο και δεν είμαστε τίποτα απ’
αυτόν τον κόσμο.
Οι μέρες μας είναι μια πυρκαγιά κι οι νύχτες μας ένα πέλαγο.
Γύρω μας αντηχεί το γέλιο των ανθρώπων.
Είμαστε οι προάγγελοι του χάους.
|
||||
5. |
[B2] Conqueror
10:11
|
|||
FIELDS OF LOCUST - CONQUEROR
A sickness rising
From the depths I suppose
Burning everything in its path
Speaking with a lying tongue
An old companion
This haunter of dreams
Pulling the strings violently
Telling tales of a dark logic
A nameless force
A deafening voice
The trick that came with the gift
An ancient conqueror
The bitter joke of "god"
|
If you like Fields of Locust, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp