1. |
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2. |
A Hole in the Heart
04:11
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3. |
Unknown Call of Yearning
04:28
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4. |
The Honesty of Decline
02:56
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5. |
Ghost Lament
02:44
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6. |
The Minnesinger's Quest
03:15
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7. |
Black is the Colour
03:34
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8. |
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9. |
The Sea of Ice
03:44
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10. |
I can feel You there
03:19
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11. |
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|
As the waves rage higher
The wheel breaks under strain
All grandeur gone with the wind.
When was the last anchor severed?
Where was set the point of no return?
Far are the warmth of a life ensnared in delusion
And meadows of silvery laughter.
As the sea cools down
The mast writhes with frost
All hopes vanished in the storm.
When was the last sail torn?
The entrance in the polar circle final?
Slumberless are the hours of the long last night
With regrets roaring louder than the surges.
As ice blocks crush the hull
Weightless becomes the world
The last memories fade.
Ice floes loom on the horizon
The sea encloses what can't be saved anyhow.
Hot tears defrost the planks, sweetening the salt
Until a white lance of salvation smashes the remains.
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12. |
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|
And no new light shines in a new night.
The stars keep dancing on ancient traces
As the city lights light up one by one
Blinking at me, haunting this silent distant hill
(I've haunted so many times before)
In this crystal cold night so beautiful with a moon so bright
As a resonance of sensations kept uncherished for too long.
And I'm sitting here – abandoned – waiting for a call –
an unknown call of yearning
A reach out to the stars – an answer from the void I used to howl into
since this blackened night stretched out its claws so bright
Tempting – seducing – leaving behind the ones who followed.
Time, she spills her silver hair like a waterfall through my fingers
Strokes my face with a promise unknown to this world
As she shuts down her eyes with the shame of the knower.
And I can't but bury this vow in a heart that had to become a treasure
dungeon since this blackened night stretched out its claws so bright
Tempting – seducing – leaving behind the ones who dared to follow.
And once more I can't but watch and watch and watch and yearn.
Seems like I've wished too hard
And recovered sensations kept rightly uncherished for so long.
The soft skin of the dreams that unexpectedly lie right before me is –
again – as distant as the Jupiter storms.
And no new light shines in a new night.
And I'm sitting here – devoted to the unknown call.
Wouldn't it have been better not to haunt this hill again?
In the end – no.
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13. |
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|
If the beauty of the signs of age can't be sensed
Or the beauty in the decay of existence itself
How could the pleasures of youth be entirely enjoyed
Without deception or depression when it fades?
For young beauty is to treat with distrust
Its rapid evanescence reveals a nature of deceit.
There is this melancholy within all progress
For inevitably the final point will come
Brace yourself against deception
Research the beauty in the honesty of decline
By embracing what can't be denied
A sweeter spark this existence could be.
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14. |
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|
Wander on, wanderer,
Wander up, up and down and up again.
Why are you wandering the shore?
(What are you searching for?)
The shore will be the same the thousandth time
You've wandered back and forth.
Stare on, seeker, dry out your eyes.
Why are you staring at the clouds,
Trying to research its shades from pitch black to flaming red?
The clouds won't wave at you.
The sky won't give you a sign.
Hark on, listener of water's symphony.
Why are you trying to differentiate this composition's facets?
The waves won't spill out any truths
And beneath the surface no divine core will be revealed.
Why are you returning, wanderer, retire to your cave?
Begging for comfort in the scents and tastes of lust?
The short delights of the flesh – these sparks in an everlasting night –
Will be swallowed up afterwards by unequally darker despair.
So what to do, monk, minstrel of eternal longing?
Neither addiction to higher knowledge
Nor recourse to sensual pleasure will lead you to the sublime.
End the journey, bury the quest?
Wander on, wanderer.
Wander up, up and down and up again –
Continue seeking – go on harking – indulge in the sparks of lust.
But acknowledge: there won't be changes,
There won't be signs,
There won't be answers,
No fires lightning up the night.
Nonetheless: worse, not to be on any quest
Than on a meaningless quest emerging from the self.
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15. |
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Cryptorianus Germany
Melancholic drone / melodic noise / soundscapes. Bass guitar, voice, distortion & reverb pedal.
Cryptorianus is part of Veinte 33 Records and Scum on Earth.
CDs and merch available at:
veinte33records.bandcamp.com
scumonearth.bandcamp.com
depressiveillusions.com
... more
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