Song picture
Eternal Sun (sample unmixed)
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Of and to the nihilist
dark death black dead poetic absurd aggressive simplistic brooding venomous absurdist nihilistic spiteful anti humane
Artist picture
dark, brooding, aggressive, poetic, nihilistic, absurdist, simplistic, absurd, dead, death, rotting, black, venomous, spiteful, anti humane, witchcraft, pagan,
An Accoustic, Agressive, Classically influenced and somnolent venture through the nihil.
Song Info
Genre
Classical • Medieval
Charts
#3,208 today Peak #86
#128 in subgenre Peak #11
Author
Nocturnai
Rights
2008 Nocturnai (joshua peterson)
Uploaded
January 12, 2008
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.7 MB • 128 kbps • 2:56
Story behind the song
it should be obvious... hah
Lyrics
The fog clears and the river's course has taken us unto this dying land. We wade among the limbs of the damned as we venture towards the shore. The boatman waves a gesture and immediately makes his way, wishing us well in the land wherein Belial is known by name... We trod upon the cracking soil, our legs are cut by the dying weeds, our mouths are dry with bitter salt, our eyes are shot with blood. But we pine and gather cloth from the corpses all about, and drink our fill of bile while we scavenge towards the sounds... Our numbers fall as sun still rises But Silence is our name The Bitter stench of virulence And rotting is all the same We note, and see, and wish we weren't Among the few who (still) stand Whilst the wind buries the dead with The locusts in the sand But we are ever here In the land of Eternal Sun We Are Ever Born Unto a land of undying Sun... The moths eat at the carapace we've taken as our own and the seams break from the heat in the leathers we have sewn. Our flesh peels and stretches as we tread towards the shade that ever seems to be on the horizon. We bed in ash and light a fire to burn our plagued, and feast "the carrion laid neatly" in our way... We tread towards a twilight, a glimmer in the eye, we kill to gain our footing while they, thrashing, wait to die... Our numbers fall as sun still rises, Blasphemy is our name, The Bitter stench of virulence And rotting is all the same. We note, and see, and wish we weren't Among the few who (still) stand Whilst the wind buries the dead with The locusts in the sand But we are ever here In the land of Eternal Sun We Are Ever Born Unto the land of undying Sun...
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