SOPOR AETERNUS LYRICS

1. The Encoded Cloister

(the mirror ... is the theatre ... where the autopsy ... begins)
please, be so kind to leave this place,
none of your kin(d) is wanted here;
a dreadful tremor shakes these walls ...
your presence vibrates violently.

over many years we've built the utmost fragile atmosphere,
we cant allow the uninvited visitor(s) to interfere.
the balance here's most delicate, and our salvation, if you wish,
yes, our existence as a whole is depending on this sacred place.

a silence, powerful and true, a minimum of what we seek,
pervading everything and all ...
it can be heard, can be perceived.
this silence, you must understand, a quiet state of rest and calm,
is like a temple in itself, keeps the secluded soul(s) from harm.
its gentle light is almost dark, a peaceful semble of the tomb,
a certain chill's predominant...
as most things here have ceased to move.

our lord is sleeping in his chambers, the centre of our sanctuary,
he's not receiving anyone...
he has not seen a soul in years.
so long ago our lord's retired from the affaires your world to show,
we've never heard your name before...
our lord's not well, you have to go.

please, be so kind to leave this here;
a dreadful termor shakes these walls...
your presence vibrates violently.

Please ... - leave!

2. Backbone Practise

[unpleasant reminder in a subterranean pathlogy department]

we are entering the operation theatre of the familiar morgue:
the student nurses are making a lot of noise,
their voices echo from the bare tiles walls...
I improvise a fainting fit: "I cannot bare these voices anymore...!"

the tiny spineless spider, who really is a dog,
has hurt herself - or did she get hurt ?- something 'bout her back...
oh, does she need a new one?
Torso-less she onlydoes consist of legs...
much like a crushed little cross, a tiny crucifix.
so cautiously she's stalking now across the palm of my right hand,
merely a thin branch in the wind,
touching the wound... where i had cut my finger.

i hand her over to the nurses, one of them - directed me by the teacher
carries out theoperation, for which i don't have the knowledge.
one day everyone here must fulfil this very task alone,
as it's the only way to learn... and in the end become a master...
yes, this means responsibility,
and it's connected directly to stress and fear.

the little spider has her operation on a table
that is decorated like a forest, all with thicket and fir trees...
and right beside the flashing lights and displays of the instruments.

so hear now of the very scene that happend right before this (here):

an elephant on the plane roof of a tall cathedral... very close to the edge.
"climb down his tail, as if it were a rope!
have faith and confidence, believe that he will hold you!"
but the elephant is not anchored in the ground,
yes, he might have the will to remain in position,
perhaps doing everything within his power to hold me,
not to slip and fall himself...
but in my opinion this is hardly enough.
can this be a question of trust, at all ?!?

looking out of the window, while the underground moves down
into the tunnel ... - a man, who has already passes the elephant-test, says:
"fear must be conquered, boy!
many of what comes up are merely old fears of death!"

3. Idleness & Consequence

The boy took a stroll the shores of the well-constructed brook,
carefully climbed a waterfall, built of semiprecious rock...-
and gazed at the crystal that he had picked up from the ground.
Washing the boy's bare feet, the cold clear water lapped around,
murmured silently, as it flew underneath the boy's white gown...-
so that he, somewhat leaking, became the semblance of a well.

As he laid the crystal down again, the pale boy realised
that his three-coloured, fair-haired rabbit of luck...-
and the startled, pale, rattled boy.

"Behold, my blood is like MILK, or MERCURY", the pale boy cried.
"No, it's not red...more like dancing serpents,
of which one is BLACK, the other one WHITE.
Two separate, coiling streams that never mix, never unite,
but as one they're flowing, flowing...ever flowing side by side!"

4. Beyond The Wall Of Sleep

Every now and then it seems to me
that there is greatest danger lying hidden in the depths of sleep ...
Saddesty the wanderer ... who is travelling here
for far to often ..., or just longer than his mortal mind would bare.

From the other world he can never fully return
after the passing of a certain period of time,
as the forces of the other side are with him all the while,
are surrounding his mind,
as they are now with him all the time.
Obscuring his mind, his spirit,
they chain him to this place or state:
mind and body will become lethargic, listless and inert,
and then, driven by his wounded,
he will be longing for nothing more ... except the end itself ... -
for darkness ... and for death.

Every now and then it seems to me
that there is greatest danger lying hidden in the depths of sleep ...
Saddesty the wanderer ... who is travelling here
for far to often ..., or just longer than his mortal mind would bare.

5. Imhotep

[Schwarzer Drache mischt einen Sturm]

"...Armes, Dunkles Wolkenkind,
hast Dich erneut in Sturm gehullt,
im fadenschein'gen Pechgewand
Dich selbst in ew'ger Nacht verbannt.
Die undurchdringlich' zweite Haut,
hat die Grenze zur Welt erbaut...-
als Eierschale, hart wie Stein,
lasst sie kein Licht noch Warme ein.

Eiskalte Wande, falsches Haus,
kein Leben schlupft aus dir heraus,
kein ungeborenes reift heran,
nur noch ein zorniger, alter Mann
gramt im inneren ewiglich...-
selbst vor dem Tod furchtet er sich."

"Armes, dunkles Wolkenkind,
den schlimmsten Kurs dein Geist stets nimmt.
Dein Pfad des Grau'ns ist trugerisch,
birgt nichts als Schmerz und Leid fur dich;
Szenarien Deine Angst ersinnt,
die niemals war, nicht wirklich sind.
So furchtbar tost der Sturm in dir,
dies bose, alte Ungetier
lockt aus der Finsternis hervor
den garstig zischelnd Schattenchor,
der, wie ein kalter, kranker Hauch,
sich faulig hauft in Deinem Bauch,
und dann als ekler leichenwind
Gute und Schonheit von dir nimmt..."

"Oh, armes, dunkles Wolkenkind"

6. Hearse-shaped Basins Of Darkest Matter

On the left side ... again ...
black fish are being bred ... -
cultivated in vast amount
Harboured by enormous tubs, all of them made of glass,
they are resembling massive moving planes;
one of these even has the shape of a gigantic hearse ... -
could this be some sort of restaurant perhaps?

Oh, stupid boy, won't you turn around?
Don't you hear the sound
of the tocsin ringing in the air?!

Climbing up the slope of stairs
taking two steps at once ... -
the vats are rising as he gets higher.
Growing steadily now on both sides of the path
viciously filling up every space.

Only a few meters away from him ... -
they are joining above his head,
like an archway they are building ... a passage;
through its transparent walls he can see the black fish moving:
like a tunnel, all organic and dark,
a black mouth waiting, veiled in hungry architecture,
quite perfectly disguised ... -
yet, (t)his premature entry would be (entirely) unauthorised

Oh, stupid boy ..., turn around,
this place is most unhealthy ground!
Don't you hear the sound of the tocsin ... ringing in the air?!

7. Interlude - The Quiet Earth

Ach, hatt' ich heut' drei Wunsche frei,
die Wahll fiel mir nicht schwer,
drei Wunsche nur, das reichte aus,
ich bracuhte garnicht mehr.

Mein erster Wunsch, gesteh' ich gern,
war' nur fur mich allein...-
Ich wurd' vernichten meinen Leib,
um nur mehr Geist zu sein.
So reist' ich dann-gedankenschnell-
ein einz'ges Mal noch um die Welt,
um nachzuseh'n, ob es vielleicht doch etwas gibt,
dass mich hier halt...

Den zweiten Wunsch, auch das ist leicht,
send' ich dann in die Nacht;
verseh'n mit einem Bittgesuch,
umd zu beschwor'n die Macht,
die richtend dann ihr Urteil spricht,
so wie ich's langst gefallt,
wischt kurzerhand die Menschheit fort,
und erschafft die stille Welt.

Mein dritter Wunsch, wie sollt's auch sein, beendet letztes Leid,
denn erst mit meiner Ausloschung ist die Erde befreit...

Ach, hatt' ich heut' drei Wunsche frei,
die Wahll fiel mir nicht schwer,
drei Wunsche nur, das reichte aus,
ich bracuhte garnicht mehr.

8. We Have A Dog To Exercise

When the old ghost of suicide
creeps slowly back into your mind,
then everything is bleak and blurred ... -
down here in the short-sighted world.
Yet, this time I have to insist
on the sharpness of the things I missed ... -
this once so loyal friend ..., he's not that welcome anymore.

White, fragile porcelain-boy,
some minor things shall be left unsaid,
yes, you share the strongest desire for beauty,
as like all the "enchanted" you are more than blessed with it.

The body is a prison-cell ... that like a child needs to be washed and fed ... -
These are just two of the things that I have a tendency to forget.

The heavy smell of rotting flowers is chanting through the prison doors,
We kiss the dying world goodbye ... and leave it in good hands at the morque.

Well, on the second day of excavation,
tell me, what did you expect to find?
Be careful when you scratch the surface,
'cause we all have a dog to exercise.

We are not lovers, we are LIKERS ... -
We are merely hands and shake;
these are just FOUR from the list of the numberless things
of which we're still afraid.

We are not familiar with the state of (y)our decay,
Because this is not our line, it is not really our trade.
All we know is that our feet are cold
and that our sticky hands are wet -
and that we're here to bring you tidings
straight from the CHOIR OF THE DEAD.

Look at the boy ... oh, he really suffers,
he's caught in fear and its distress;
there's no point in looking at him for answers,
because he is a stranger here himself.

The body is a prison-cell
that like a child needs to be washed and fed ... -
these are just two of the things that I have a tendency to forget.

9. The Lion's Promise

After the boy had taken a walk
with his dear - deceased - Grandmother,
his feet were somehow led to a small, ancient church,
wich was giving quite an imposing grandeur.
Partially sunken in the morass if the marshland
all foggy and chronically overcast...-
the ancient house was waiting.

The haunted house lies waiting.

Clockwise the stone flight is spiralling upwards,
but soon the passage becomes too small to get on...-
even though the boy's now crawling.
Anxiously he attempts to restrain,
but his way back seems to be obstructed:
Gelatinous hearts are linded-up along the walls,
each of them inseminated - or defiled - by a black tadpole.

A stone lion promises to be the boy's rescue...-
but only, if he eventually...stops running away...from him...

10. Leeches & Deception

The old monk of a somewhat Thelemite, or "crow"-related order
dressed in a torn, old grown of jute,
had been locked up in a tiny box inside a wall
this cubic room was painted in dark(est)-red and midnight blue

When the door was opened again,
he was screaming terribly,
as towards the end of his self-imposed isolation
he must have suffered from most horrible visions and/or hallucinations,
persumely, they had been caused by previous days of his ritual fasting.
The images he saw must have been atrocious indeed.

The white-haired, bearded monk was in his forties I believe...-
that's 4 and 0 for the earthen sphere.

Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute,
because what might look like e cliche is necessity and truth!!!
Do not make stupid jokes about the man in the crow-related cowl of jute,
because by transforming himself he might be saving me and you.
Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute,
because what might look like e cliche is necessity and...truth!!!

After he was released again
a trans-/bisexual vampyre-demon was crawling after him out of the same box.
Though this demon/creature should have been dissolved,
instead he had just split himself in two halves,
dark-red, fat and swollen like a leech...-
it surely must have been feasting on the poor man
while they were both locked up inside the wall.

A ritual:
(I become a witness of an unexpected ritual, a demonstration.)

On the right side of me:
a magician hissingly exhales,
directing his breath on a spongy, spherical thing;
a plexus wich, as a direct reaction to it,
is covered by thin, electric flashes,
or discharges of blue light

Unexpectedly, my hands are beginning to twitch and flash as well,
and i have to realise that i am still dirty and soiled,
possessed by certain things on un(dis)solved,
as it is they who now react to the formula of exorcism!

In awe and terror i recognize
that such rituals of power, invocations of archetypes
must only be performed by the truly initiated,
experienced magicians all alone.
Not by some superficial silly loser/boy-girl,
a mere artist of hot host(test)-air...

Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute,
because what might look like e cliche is necessity and truth!!!
Do not make stupid jokes about the man in the crow-related cowl of jute,
because by transforming himself he might be saving me and you.
Do not make stupid jokes about the old man in the gown of jute,
because what might look like e cliche is necessity and...truth!!!

11. The Skeletal Garden

Will I become like the old man from next door?

Obsessed with fear of losing his mind,
he soon couldn't take care of himself anymore.
He had no friends or relatives to look after him,
only once a week some male nurse dropped in.

He was found in his bed, dehydrated...
unconscious, as he was, they brought him to a diffrent place.

"We have never heard of him since..."

He lived alone in his house for most of his life,
and I wouldn't be surprised,
If he had died the same day they put him in a room
with the people he'd never seem before.

He had a wild garden behind his house...
so beautiful and dark.
woodpeckers and squirrels lived there,
and hedgehogs, mice and martens.
Hazelnut-trees and wild strawberries grew,
and cherries, apples and pears, and currants of red and black...
all hidden in this private place.

In the safety of the shadows the fragile fern slept,
along the winding paths the wild-flowers wept,
snowdrops noddled their little heads in spring,
Forget Me Not's and all kinds of things
of which I do not know the names...

And, of course, there was ivy everywhere.

It happend the same week they took him away
workers hacked down all the trees in the garden...
hired by the envious people outside... who had always terrified
by the beauty that enchanted this place,
and the darkness it was breathing.

Yet, none of them could keep the DEAD BIRDS FROM SINGING...

12. Feed The Birds

Zahl' von 11 ruckwarts bis 7,
wurd's auf Morgen gern verschieben;
frag' mich ob sich noch was lohnt...-
Tragheit als Einz'ge hier noch wohnt

13. Consolatrix Has Left The Building

Strolling all alone...across the ancient cemetery...-
tell me, isn't everthing here...of a timeless green?!
I see that several visitors are also agthered here,
having an idle, little saunter on the old graveyard...just like me.

i keep a candle burning for myself so i won't feel all alone;
we should have done so, but we never celebrated anythin here at all.

A leaden weariness creeps viciously like syrup down the hills,
felling everybody...as it crawls upon the monuments...-
only i escape its power, for the moment seem immune;
yet, two elderly ladies, guarding the right, the future tomb
are scolding me, so filled with anger, filled with envy and disdain:
"The dead are furious with you!
as you're wasting your precious time!"

Now there are faces in the carpet, there are people living in the walls;
I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the hours before
dawn!"

These moments, fleeting as they are, they testify to us
they are the silent witnesses of a reason about to pass;
I cannot but admit, carelessly ignoring life's finiteness,
that i am filled with fear and worry...and so much shame because of this.

Well, everthing I see, yeas all the images are blurred,
it's hard to guess the future in the short-sighted world.
How should this simple handicap be lightly well ignored,
considering the dreadful blindness with wich i have been born.

We should have done so, but we never celebrated anything here at all;
I hear the dead are calling: "sadness lies in wait in the darkest hours...
...right before the dawn!"

14. Day Of The Dead

Unexpected...suddenly...as if from nowhere they appear,
the monks are wearing fire-coloured gowns,
their faces, friendly but determined, are hidden behind lacquered masks,
painted black&white, they're having the shape of over-dimensional skulls.

Quickly and nimbly they are moving forward, hopping dexterously,
throwing their legs like ageless jesters...so high up into the air.
Each of them is armed with a short, an even piece of wood,
remarkably resembling...ancient worn-out washing-boards.
Polished to strike ritually...-this is the DAY OF THE remaining DEAD.

On this day we celebrate the expulsion, or rebuke,
of the spirits wich have unintendedly been dragged along.
Some of these ghosts have been forgotten, some have simply been ignored,
these remnants with a growing hunger...must be exorcised, must be removed.

This ritual always commences without warning, suddenly,
therefore it cannot be assigned to a certain date of time.
It rather tends to inevitably follow a chain of events,
a special spiritual feature inherent in each and everyone of them.

Put of the sphere of influence...of the sphere of the days to be
the monks are approaching, spinning on their own axis as they dance and sing
and hitting every person present dard between the shoulder-blades
as everyone here is dragging fidget, invisible..."appendages".

As if by change, not expressly invited, we've assembled here today
vehemently we are being hit...and driven through the western gates,
out of the monastery in the direction of the setting sun
a necessary purifying ceremony for the (fragile) days to come...







SOPOR AETERNUS LYRICS