1. |
Atlantic Tainted Gloom
08:01
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In the rivers of an ancient home
grew the promise of the condemned.
The clash of the weakness, the stench of death,
the lifeless perception of an hopeful land.
The proud legacy left after the passage of the east.
In the rivers of an ancient home
grew the promise of the desperate.
The clash of the weakness, the stench of death,
the lifeless perception of an hopeful land.
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2. |
Novelization
06:24
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Like a sunless world adrift from the multitude,
and then the madness, and then noises for decades.
Bring the decay, bring what you think that this time deserve,
and in the end listen the dissonant choir of regrets.
Like a sunless world adrift from the multitude.
Forced into life, into a social rainstorm.
Bring the decay, bring what you think that this time deserve,
and in the end listen the dissonant choir of regrets.
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3. |
The Lights on the Ocean
07:11
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Swim through the hearts of the forgotten.
Breath through the lungs of an utopia.
A song of limitations, an abstract pantheon to warfare.
A silent flock, like a molotov,
like broken nails inside the casket.
Swim through the hearts of the forgotten.
Breath through the lungs of an utopia.
A song of limitations, an abstract pantheon to warfare.
A silent flock, like a molotov,
like broken nails inside the casket.
Their voices will guide the path to the defeat,
an endless cycle, an historical tradition.
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4. |
Destined to Saturn
07:24
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Laughing on the feast, screams still resonating,
from the voiceless victims of consumption.
Through the air, and in the seas,
Illusion, to the endless ego.
Violence is the fuel, the glorious goal of existence.
Gods of gluttony destroying the raw flesh,
lick the brined lips, inhale the putrid reek.
Once I saw the light being consumed by the sky.
The screeching voice of a deformed mankind
spitting the remains of indifference.
Through the air, and in the seas,
Illusion, to the endless ego.
Violence is the fuel, the glorious goal of existence.
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5. |
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Oblivion awaits on the verge of space,
boycott the colors as a disgraced farewell.
Drop the water, waste the last moments,
and feel the glass cracking between the legs.
Then the optical perception defecate
the bright endurance of your founding fathers.
Oblivion awaits on the verge of space,
boycott the colors as a disgraced farewell.
Drop the water, waste the last moments,
and feel the glass cracking between the legs.
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6. |
Ode to the Sea
06:54
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Will this ship reach the distant shore?
Will my eyes make the mirages real?
The waves collide against the decayed,
the spirals engulf the calm.
Will this hope sink on the sea?
Will be another longing beyond the lighthouse?
The waves collide against the decayed,
the spirals engulf the calm.
No future, collapse is here.
We saw everything disappear.
The waves collide against the decayed,
the spirals engulf the calm.
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