Tracks

01. Primitive Killing
02. Vorunah
03. The Drunken Priest
04. Frost Junkie
05. Old
06. Cult Ritual
07. 13 Candles
08. Dead Universe



01. Primitive Killing

The moon is leading my path
In my hand a knife of bone
In the other a rope
For strangulation, to end it

Prey in sight
Blood will be shed this night

A moment unprepared
A spear through the neck
Falling to the freezing ground
Shivering, cold, dead

Instinct of the living
Primal hunting
Death is life
Primitive killing


02. Vorunah

Ripping, dripping
Drooling on my boots
You're on me like a uniform
Like a snake entwines its prey

Even though I hate you
You're on me like an old man's dog

Unleash the anger in me
Then Vorunah will see
How cruel I can be

My skin is crawling in filth
I will never be clean
From your aching stench
Cause you are me

Absorbing
My life
Like a kiss
From Dracul


03. The Drunken Priest

Laid out before him
A book of old psalms
His eyes are blinded
By the darkest shades

His mouth is dry like sand
The voice is rusty
Speaks about death and sorrow
And how to save your soul

The drunken priest
On his alter throne
Drowning in wine
And endless funerals

Aroma of wine and vomit
Infects the air
Wearing the hammerhead
Saved by the iron bell


04. Frost Junkie

White fields
Minus
Mountain cold
The numbing fog

Arctic wind
Intense
Freezing dawn
A bitter gust

Frost junkie
Artisan
Ground sleeper
The winter sovereign

Glacial sculptures
Frozen
Nimbus form
Twelve in numbers

The north chronometer
Ageless
Aberrant art
From the creator


05. Old

The smell of museum
The rocking chair
Dead skin
The silver hair

I'm old
I'm dying
Hell can wait
I'm always late

Drenched in coffee
The tongue of sin
Yellow teeth
Hands shivering

Grey woollen cardigan
A black pipe
A crawling spider
It's night


06. Cult Ritual

Old script
Gravestone oblique
Flowers withered
Irriguous soil

Beneath the ground
Sarcophagus
Carcass decayed
Incessant stench

Into the caves
Into the graves
Death crumbling
Cult ritual


07. 13 Candles

In the corner
A brown Chesterfield
On the floor
A carpet of human hair

Four statues in bronze
Hand crafted
From ancient times
Holding a wooden table

Thirteen carved holes
In a wolf's spine
A candelabrum
To hold the candles

13 candles are burning
In the memory
Of the two souls
That was never there


08. Dead Universe

Dead mountains
Dead lakes
Dead caves
Dead rivers

Dead lanscapes
Dead skies
Dead trees
Dead universe