1. |
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As I stood on the shoreline
I witnessed the bloated bodies
Appear one by one
Like planks of a broken ship
They slid and rocked on the rising tide
Pushing for terra firma
In a blind march of an automaton
And I saw the angel of death
I saw the angel of death
In the shape of a vulture
Alight upon each grey chest
Gently even for it’s morbid size
And with one ghastly talon
She reached into each silent throat
Stretching jaws, cracking bones and
Rending flesh in twain
Finally the dead would release the spirit;
Vomit out a glowing ball into the clutches of
The mighty vulture, Death.
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2. |
The Bonnie Prince
05:52
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In a flash you were gone
Taken from this plane
With your head in my hands
I watched your Light fade away
My boy, my boy
Your innocence is pure and true
The void in my chest will never fill in
My boy, my boy you did not deserve this
I love you I miss you I am beyond repair
Your heart was so full it overloaded and stopped
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3. |
Eulogy
09:42
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The hands of time are
Patina rusted metal
Rough against my skin.
My lips, planted ivy.
Fingers draw tinted spirals
To become the twine.
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4. |
My Son, My Son
03:26
|
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Lyrics were ad libbed at the time of recording to create a completely authentic emotional experience and as such, are not available.
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5. |
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And each sphere shone with the light
Of a prism in the silver expanse of sky and sea, spitting ohms and sputtering watts emitting tiny clouds of smoke from scorched air
Only to be devoured as quickly as it appeared,
Lost in the terrible beak of the demon carrion
And though I tried to muffle my scream, I could not
And was filled with a boiling fear for I did not Want my life rent from my chest, even so gently.
But Death, she could not see me or hear me
For the sea had claimed its own sacrifice
And she wants not what she needs not
For though she can hear more see my shining spirit
She still follows at my heels, a fraction of her drawn inexplicably toward what will soon be a dying ember
Until that day comes, my mind is marked with this sight
And the sensation of the salt sea, the crackling smell of burnt ozone
And the dread fear of the spirit’s final destination
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6. |
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Totally punishing blackened doom from Vermont's capital city.
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