Deathspell Omega: The Shrine Of Mad Laughter
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Deathspell Omega: The Shrine Of Mad Laughter
God of terror, very low dost thou bring us, very low hast thou brought us...
A sensation of everlasting rot and those frantic wails, no, it is not a fall into
the abyss, the defiance of descent, a coronation beyond liberty and slavery;
the cry of woe and deliverance exudes a flame, evasive as sound and ether:
an instant of collusion with death, without hope nor prospect, yet it is a
world below and above and in all eternity, a gift of fever, the wind of death
that sustains the life in me, yes, the lightness of hovering in permanent
anguish; I dared to borrow those words, to articulate them and to savour
their turpitude, as I beheld the shrine of mad laughter.
The limit is crossed with a weary horror: hope seemed a respect which fatigue grants to the necessity of the world.
As if Death was dashed onto the death within, a violent thrust stealing the light of the eyes, a ray of darkness, a negation, the bread of bitterness that ignites neither devotion nor fervour; resplendent nothingness! make all things appear with clarity, ruined in the flame of repudiation, in the flame of God! Interwoven joy and confusion, a stabbing confusion, asphyxiation from within, yet I gained this certitude: malediction, degradation, sown in me like seeds, now belonged to death, in harbouring a desire for the hideous, I was beckoning to death. Insatiable combustion, expand, this body is the vessel of grace!
The idea of God is pale next to that of perdition, but of this I could have no inkling in advance.
A sensation of everlasting rot and those frantic wails, no, it is not a fall into
the abyss, the defiance of descent, a coronation beyond liberty and slavery;
the cry of woe and deliverance exudes a flame, evasive as sound and ether:
an instant of collusion with death, without hope nor prospect, yet it is a
world below and above and in all eternity, a gift of fever, the wind of death
that sustains the life in me, yes, the lightness of hovering in permanent
anguish; I dared to borrow those words, to articulate them and to savour
their turpitude, as I beheld the shrine of mad laughter.
The limit is crossed with a weary horror: hope seemed a respect which fatigue grants to the necessity of the world.
As if Death was dashed onto the death within, a violent thrust stealing the light of the eyes, a ray of darkness, a negation, the bread of bitterness that ignites neither devotion nor fervour; resplendent nothingness! make all things appear with clarity, ruined in the flame of repudiation, in the flame of God! Interwoven joy and confusion, a stabbing confusion, asphyxiation from within, yet I gained this certitude: malediction, degradation, sown in me like seeds, now belonged to death, in harbouring a desire for the hideous, I was beckoning to death. Insatiable combustion, expand, this body is the vessel of grace!
The idea of God is pale next to that of perdition, but of this I could have no inkling in advance.
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Deathspell Omega: The Shrine Of Mad Laughter
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Deathspell Omega: The Shrine Of Mad Laughter
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Bread Of Bitterness
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The Repellent Scars Of Abandon And Election
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A Chore For The Lost
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Blessed Are The Dead Whiche Dye In Lorde
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Chaining The Katechon
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„D-DKanee Thanks Pedro Shawty, move your body, ándale Pokaż, jak się bawisz nam Mój skład jest z Warszawy, ona nie Poznałem ją na plaży w Lloret de Mar Na plaży w Lloret de Mar Na plaży w Llor”
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taki mały ja (prod. francis)
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„Siedzę w Raszynie i tęsknię za widokiem znad oceanu Myślę o tym, gdzie chwilę temu byłem i gdzie lecę zaraz gdy wrócę ze Stanów Wspominam swoją mieścinę bo nawet nie śniłem, że kiedyś zawinę stamtąd”
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Bad Dreams
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„Sun is going down, time is running out No one else around but me Steady losing light Steady losing my mind Moving shadows and grinding teeth Without you, there ain't no place for me to hide Wi”
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Noc
Julia Żugaj
„Już środek nocy, a dalej jej nie mam dosyć Czekam aż tempo skoczy, w rytmie muzyki kroki Dziś mamy siebie, może być tylko lepiej W neonach gdzieś na mieście Więcej nie będę bezsensownie stać Cały”
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Nie musisz się bać
Oskar Cyms
„Chciałem więcej niż sam mogłem ci dać Te szare bloki, kilka pytań na start Dziś chciałbym uciec, ciepłe noce i wiatr Pomyśl o mnie, jeszcze moment I znikam gdzieś znów z tobą drugi dzień i trzec”
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