1. |
The Yellow Sign
09:35
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Have you seen the sign
written in the binding,
of that book I fear to read?
It's in-between the lines,
and traced in starlit skies.
The haze of the meaning
brings confusion to my mind
it hides solemnly what is not there.
Then the watchmen stares that disgusting stare,
and all colour turns to green, and mud.
Then she told me i was in that coffin,
and the watchman drove the hearse
Have you seen the sign?
this obsession of mine.
Have you seen the sign?
Its colour bleeds in the light
Have you seen the sign?
This madness is my plight
Have you seen the sign?
The yellow sign of the king.
Then she gave to me a trinket of horror, and dread;
the onyx contrasts to the golden ink.
That book i fear? I've seen
its readers study it in forlorn power,
as they disappear one by one in fleeting desires.
Then she read the book in a daze,
and I read the book in a daze.
Then the watchman comes to bring my death,
and collects that sign as his tithe.
Have you seen the sign?
this obsession of mine.
Have you seen the sign?
Its colour bleeds in the light
Have you seen the sign?
This madness is my plight
Have you seen the sign?
The yellow sign of the king.
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2. |
Moonlight
09:13
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As the moonlight lit the darkness
I see an awful truth.
The fear that I've been holding
is the fear I know I knew.
The pressure keeps on mounting,
and the pressure closes in.
Choking with emotions.
Choking in silence.
only the moonlight will
light the path i trudge on to.
The pressure is a noose,
and I slave to push in slack.
I can't stop walking.
There's no turning back.
As the moonlight lit the darkness
I see this awful truth.
This pain that I've been holding
was never anything new.
It just keeps on mounting;
I'm so very tired,
and the darkness is so comforting.
Am I wrong?
I'll be alone in the Moonlight.
I'll be alone in the Moonlight.
I'll hide with the faceless ones;
so I can't see my hands,
or any of the things i've done.
I can wallow in regret,
and swallow my pain.
For when I see the sign
I won't come back again.
This life is a winding road,
and the weight of it all
keeps weighing me down.
I keep saying round the bend
it will get better... Better...
But the noose keeps getting tighter,
and comfort is so far away.
Sometimes i wish with one good yank
it will take my life away.
and i'll be alone
in the moonlight.
Just a ghost in the moonlight.
and i'll be alone
in the moonlight.
Just a ghost in the moonlight.
For there be divers sorts of death some wherein the body remaineth, and in some it vanisheth quite away with the spirit. This commonly occurreth only in solitude (such is God's will) and, none seeing the end we say the man is lost, or gone on a long journey which indeed he hath; but sometimes it hath happened in sight of many as abundant testimony showeth. In one kind of death the spirit also dieth, and this it hath been known to do while yet the body was in vigour for many years. Sometimes, as is veritably attested, it dieth with the body, but after a season is raised up again in that place where the body did decay.
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3. |
Seven Stages
11:03
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NO, I don't believe what I see.
A slab of stone encased by an old rotting tree;
its edges worn away, and rounded by time.
The leaves drift and reveal a faint inscription.
No I cannot believe. All I see is my name in full.
My birth date, and my death. A level shaft of light
illuminated the tree, as I sprang to my feet in terror.
The sun rose in the east. I stood between the tree,
and his broad red disk. No shadow dared
to hide its truth from me.
A chorus of wolves howled saluting the dawn.
clustered on the mounds, and tumuli extending to the horizon
I knew now that these are the ruins of ancient Carcosa.
In the distance I saw a man in strange garb approach me,
and I sought his direction, but the man passed by without a sound
as if I wasn't even there.
his disgusting vile barbarous chants rang out to my shock,
and i understood nothing. In spite of my pleas to him
he ran off into the distance, as if I wasn't even there.
Filled with these reflections; soon I thought how came I hither?
A moment's reflection seemed to make this all clear,
though in a disquieting way.
I remember now that I had been taken by a sudden fever;
I was ill.
I can feel the air, as a ponderous substance;
I can hear the silence. Of fever I have no trace,
but why?
It feels like yesterday. When I heard the doctor say
you're going to die, and i can see his treatments didn't matter,
and to this day I don't know why i stayed
in suffering, and dismay if I was to die anyway.
So I ripped his tools from between my bones,
for I won't die in this bed all alone.
I accept that nothing in this world lasts forever.
It feels like yesterday when I heard the doctor say
you're going to die, and I accept
that nothing in this world lasts forever.
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Bayrolles Winnipeg, Manitoba
Doom Metal from the frozen prairies of Canada
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