The Watchtower
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Everything posted by The Watchtower
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zasto?
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strava vesti!
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nisam ni ja nasao, pa zbog toga pitam. zanima me kakav je!
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jel slushao neko Die! (Giñ Psie)? bonus na taow (ep)-u. japanski.
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ne outro, nego 4 pesma. ja se zajebah.
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np. nego, imaju dve greske u 4. pesmi. evo ga tacan text. 4. Wills Dissolve Those eyes and (this) tower have seeped into our open veins Uncoiled was it's strength And our souls en masse Poured down in sheets of rain And dissolved 'neath their feet Circling further down Our wills dissolve 'neath their feet.
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stavise textove za panopticon na njihov sajt. evo vam: 1. So Did We Our skin worn thin Our bones exposed Life reduced to ticks. From forest caves and azure skies We crashed upon this earth. The years they passed and so did we And resistance would be brought. 2. Backlit Always object Never subject Can you see us? Are we there? Are we there... Can you see me? We are watching We are watching... You are fading... In the daylight... Fading... Always upon you, light never ceases Lost from yourself, light never ceases Thousands of eyes, gaze never ceases Life is upon you, life in you ceases. 3. In Fiction Through fiction we saw the birth Of futures yet to come Yet in fiction lay the bones Ugly in their nakedness Yet under this mortal sun We cannot hide ourselves. 4. Wills Dissolve Those eyes and (this) tower have seeped into our open veins Uncoiled was it's strength And our souls en masse Poured down in sheets of rain And dissolved 'neath thier feet Circling further down Our wills dissolve 'neath thier feet. 5. Syndic Calls Rise in the morning air Greeted by cinders of the dead Syndic calls your name Show your thinned face at the window Is this the next last day? Prepare to be carried by the "crows" Heavy hand upon the land Feel it's weight inside you. 6. Altered Course (Instrumental) 7. Grinning Mouths Magistrates dream of plague Tongues loll in anticipation You are awake in their darker visions Drool slips from ginning mouths The plague is forced on us all Is it there? Are they there? Shouts of fact abound But whispers of truth burn through Is it there? Are they there?
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taj intro i outro je radio lik iz vesanie (bm bend iz poljske).
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ne brini se, iskljucices ga! btw, pocni da smisljas novi nick.
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vratio se Mathias Blad u bend!!! ocekujem da ce novi album biti vrh!!!!
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sto je dobra nova pesma od shakire!
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aj se sad pojebite.
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izlazi im novi album krajem januara. zove se revocation. "Revocation" track listing: 01. Grotesque Savior 02. Virtue of Sin 03. Annihilation Chaos 04. Horror Vacui MP3 05. Impious Gathering 06. Bloodgate 07. Deadlight Afterglow 08. Carnal Harvest 09. Nocturnal Apparition
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trazili su tvrd kurac, a on to nije mogao da im da!
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post godine u smislu najglupljih postova!!! ae je govno naspram carcass-a!
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ajde molim te vrati se u selo iz kog si dosao!
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vidis, ja nisam ni primetio. sad cu pa potrazim za 3 pesmu.
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textovi za novi kayo dot. 1. Gemini Becoming The Tripod The portraiture within me rose up To meet a constellation Borne on psychic waters. Geometry showed me its dark side And showered me with its arcing plumes. The Lovers met in deepest dreams - Tourmaline eyes glinting in the non-light. I bring to thee an Orchid I picked Once as a human From my Spiral garden I held the holy Tripod and All the nothing held its breath. Gemini solemnly split themselves - The world closed its eyes. Supreme love in the opposite - The world hid in clouds. From a severed two came one - The world quaked in fear. Galaxies slow, and ammonites - The foe e'en trembled in his darksome cave. 2. Immortelle And Paper Caravelle Almost condescending it looks on from inside; I feel strong, this day will never wither! In sorcery is my most ancient thought, And I thought the sorcerer was right. It creeps behind a dusty mirror - They, in an attic I dreamt of once. Flow through me again, Wraitful One - I feel strong! Throw the tapestry o'er the oracles! Belong to me in Innocence... The shears cut cleaner than a child's first sin; I chose the grave in Blasphemous. It fell away a hundred times before, But orisons scratched veiled glass. "Thou art I," says Cast Away: And I am in an attic. I feel weak, this night will never bloom! I am I Now you're mine, my cunting child. 3. Aura On An Asylum Wall Almost condescending it looks on from inside; I feel strong, this day will never wither! In sorcery is my most ancient thought, And I thought the sorcerer was right. It creeps behind a dusty mirror - They, in an attic I dreamt of once. Flow through me again, Wraitful One - I feel strong! Throw the tapestry o'er the oracles! Belong to me in Innocence... The shears cut cleaner than a child's first sin; I chose the grave in Blasphemous. It fell away a hundred times before, But orisons scratched veiled glass. "Thou art I," says Cast Away: And I am in an attic. I feel weak, this night will never bloom! I am I Now you're mine, my cunting child. 4. ...On Lipid Form In a host of unbarred waterways The man bearing scrolls; These are faces I've seen written into sympathy - Kingly ships in ecstacy that fill'd their sails with delight. I printed out the fountainhead received to me in Languid Keys: A knowledge subtle drawn with sunlight faring well the matchless Seas! And up through the ductwork feels the bloody door, Mine if I remain, but horror; Remain, yes, where body binds the body, And awake is a lonely room away. Maybe a soundless rapture that dissolves the form. And pulsars deep in mourning (The Portrait Of the Music To the Poet). 5. Amaranth The Peddler "A Thunderbolt in the northern Sky... ...And the roaring of a Lion..." Swept up by the downy wings of angels Made from a heaven-laden voice, I float with all the weight of Ether - It pilots an aerie merchant's ship Across the phantasmagoric main. Courses waged by hermits to lonesome starry shores Bequeath their secret entryways; Lighthouses watch fervently the horizons of the soul. But Amaranth the Peddler waxes poetic to the Mnemosyne - His unmasked eyes deliver lunacy; It is a countless hour stealing Further into landscapes seldom drawn, Even in a demon's troubled head. He sells his wares to Vampires In bottles cork'd by Woe; Dreams in liquid lift their eyes To Morpheus enthroned Upon a poppy field breathing Slightly all alone. Feathers from a lofty wish Fall upon their own and fall Wearily to Earth - A stirring by the nightstand caused the Lamp to lift its voice. "Alack, a purloined dream Again distills thy trembling eye! What mystery remaineth ever so? Amaranth, a curse doth write itself Upon thy spectral frame, A thousand lives, a thousand days Disgraceth thus they name!"
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