viernes, 9 de abril de 2010

Mourning Beloveth - A Murderous Circus (2005) [Ireland (Athy, Kildare)]

Darren Moore: Vocals (Karnayna, Morphosis (Irl))
Frank Brennan: Guitar, Vocals (Old Season)
Brian Delaney: Guitar
Adrian Butler: Bass (Kingdom (Irl), Liquid Graveyard)
Tim Johnson: Drums
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1. The Apocalypse Machine 14:40
2. Elemental Nausea 11:46
3. The Crashing Wave 14:11
4. Nothing (The March of Death) 19:43
5. ...Yet Everything 14:45
Total 01:15:00

The limited edition digipak version contains a 2nd CD with Bonus Tracks:
1. Disintegrate (10:09)
2. Part 1 (Re-Recorded) (6:38)
3. The Words That Crawled (Live) (11:18)
4. The Mountains are Mine (Live) (8:54)
5. Narcissistic Funeral (Live) (12:16)
6. Part 1 (Live) (6:56)

2 comentarios:

  1. 1. The Apocalypse Machine

    Faceless, numberless days, grey isolation
    Time featureless crushing hope
    Intense corrpted Bliss moments
    Nothing, the Machine
    Everything grinds us down
    Escape until we seep, Nothing, the blackened soil

    Flying in elegant circles, drift through time and space
    Crumble under the wight of sheer intense bliss
    Where everything is nothing and nothing - everything
    It is a meaningless dearm from which we need to escape?
    Tear at the psyche
    To bring us down
    Where everything is
    nothing
    And nothing everthing

    Delve through the ether, drown in emptiness
    I need nothing, I want it all
    I need nothing I want the world to crawl
    Somewhere in its depths
    Lies what we have been looking for
    I need nothing I want it all
    I need nothing I want the world to crawl

    Flying in elegant circles, drifting through time
    Crumble under the weight of sheer intense bliss
    Where everything is nothing and nothing - everything
    It's a meaningless dream
    From which we need to escape?
    Tear at the psyche to bring us down
    The machine rolls through town


    2. Elemental Nausea

    It's cold (so fucking cold)
    A sordid trip to the wowels of creation

    The seductive wasteland, marrow of the world
    That gentle melancholy that so endeared in times past
    It seems to hang with an unnerving ease
    I've been here before but now it seems there is no way out

    There is now way out but down, the ante chambers to nothing
    The terror scratching at the surface of sanity

    Eyes are plucked
    The jackals are coming
    Hands are bleeding
    Raw from the scratching
    Freedom lies
    The depths of
    Lies

    Freedom lies
    Through the ether

    Elemental nausea
    Free to stagnate
    Grinding elation
    Oppressive opiates
    Residue of flesh
    Through the ether


    3. The Crashing Wave

    The dregs of the morning drift by greeting us with leaden winged despair
    So come down
    It clapsps with crooked hands and tears at the torso, ripping the flesh
    So come down

    It leaves but the scum, filth of the earth, stranded poisonous
    Soak up the arid wasteland through every fibre of my being
    Hold on to the high crashing wave, it may be our only chance of escape
    So come down, come down with me, it may be our only chance of escape

    Lurking in the shadows psychological self loathing violent desire
    Slaughter the first born the debris of joy it's all that's left
    But this is my only chance of escape the crashing wave
    So I'll hold on until I crumble under the weight

    A stagnant pit of twisted bones and contorted features wrapped in flesh
    Yet stranded to wallow between the walls of destruction
    A vacuum created by the desolation and loss of hope a sigh

    A sighm a fatal glance to the fading pain that crouches in the corner
    For the night is upon us, the triumphant return of joy
    Immortality, intensity the need to escape
    It seems to be coming through in waves the need to escape

    And beneath its swell the search for absolution continues it's downward spiral
    I wade through the fifth, terminal hope

    Its infectious this murder
    Its infectious, this murderous circus

    ResponderEliminar
  2. 4. Nothing (The March Of Death)

    A figure of despair staring into the nothingness, lost among life suckers. So
    Small standing by the ocean sensing the rain, worn out from grieving through
    a storm of rage. I have succumbed to sorrow, the hoary darkness and the
    all-consuming silence, for I had such hopes and dreams, dreams that fell like
    vapours throug the summer air. I had such thoughts, thoughts that would crush
    mountains and blunt the very daggers to my heart and yet the mere sliver of
    hope sent to the corner to be lost among life's pain.... immortal. My bones
    are weary; weary from this malignant mortality we hold on to with such grim
    despair that it becomes all-consuming. In the glowering sickly green depths
    of my misery I've drank deep textures and grotesque ecstacy it's elementary
    splendour reminded of the the labyrinthine intricacies of being, the squalor,
    the bewildering diversities and its lonely existence. A journey through a
    half dream, each step a death. To slip through the cracks unnoticed or pause
    and question the meanderings of time. The grey vastness we hold onto, The
    glum adhesive that binds us through. No!

    Hark! A football, the march of death
    A hollow call to arms from the grave
    A curator of dead souls brings us down
    Is it a shadow of life or just some vision?
    Apocalyptic dreams
    Hark! A curator of our dead souls

    Who is it that walks so solemnly through the graves?
    Is it a shadow or just some vision?
    Apocalyptic dream
    Tracing patterns to bring us down
    Who is it that walks?
    The March of Death


    5. ...Yet Everything

    Fall

    Somewhere between the chaos and sulphurous light
    Into that strange arena where attraction and repulsion meet
    Where love and hate divides, only to meet at a point

    Aeons spent dragging the mortal trash through a slow existence, its worn me
    down
    I've emptied my veins into the earth for the last time as the weight of death
    Creeps through the silence - nothing perpared me for this

    The space where my misery breahes has worn me down
    I've emptied my veins into the earth for the last time

    I've drank from the depths of the world
    And poured my cup on the heavens
    The dull playground
    Between the chaos and explosive stillness
    Where light and dark serve a purpose
    To which humanity must bend

    The trouble is I though we'd live forever
    The truth is we were dead before we were born
    If I wake again it will be in hell
    If I see you again it will be in hell

    Desire and suffering, the source of our delusions
    They are only the extreme points to which we bend
    Where the need for excess brings balance
    No more torture, no more pain

    It's pouring through my veins
    No more torture, no more pain

    ResponderEliminar

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