THE CANDLES BURNING BLUE LYRICS

1. Mimosa

Hear me my absent love, Scarlet Woman full of mourning.
Come to me.
Enlighten my dark crypt,
as I am imprisoned to the passing of days.
Nothing shall be at this House of Whispers.
Yloh si that lla morf.
Dekcol srood htiw srep sihw.
Fo esouh.

You scandalized mother of seven sorrowful years.
Lift me up to the moonlit sky and I will set fire to the stars over forbidden city Bethlehem.
So the blessed Virgin Mary can give birth to the King of the Weak.
To the King of the Weak!

Why do you hide yourself from me my love, sweet Babalon.
Drop your mask.
I have to see your vile eyes.
Fles mih snatas ot gnol eb deed.
Ni hcihw se ye r voy.

Crown of thorns to the King.
Grave for child to be born.
Envoy of feral disease.
All our sins redeem.
Amen.

2. After My First Murder

Sacred Sun,
divine are the things we have done,
and still I stand in sorrow.

Drawing down
the Magick Moon of desire.
When all is gone and so vain.

Sacred Sun,
I accuse you of what I have become.
Such a bitter man.
Cold-hearted.

Coward bitch,
run as fast as you ever can.
Leave it all behind you.

You're the one I was waiting for that night the shadows cast their spell,
in our bleeding hearts.
You're the one who never came to me when I was all alone scattered by
my tempting thoughts.

Sacred Sun,
divine are the things we have done,
and still I stand
tomorrow.

You're the one I was waiting for that night the shadows cast their spell,
in our bleeding hearts.
You're the one who never came to me when I was all alone scattered by
my tempting thoughts.

And you're the one who seized it all from me, every little thing that helped me feel
there's reason to live.
When all is done there's nothing left to say, no words to describe how I feel today
when the ligths' gone out.

3. Someone Is Here

This is the wake.
Curtains closed.
We have gathered here, in this white room.
Let your lips form the farewells
addressed to the one who can't hear.

She is sleeping now.
She is sleeping now.

Someone is here
behind these walls.
Calling us to follow him.
To die.

Shattered under sickness was she,
the most precious beauty demised now.
Dressed in black, we sit by her side,
kissing her white skin against our sorrow.

She is sleeping now.
Just sleeping now.

Someone is here
behind these walls.
Calling us to follow him.

Someone is here.
Fearful voice.
Angel-like.
Ice-cold hand.
Azrael!

This is the wake.
Awake!

4. What Have I Done?

Sometimes feels like drifting
without clear direction.

Sometimes receiving answers
holding a loaded handgun.

What have I done?

Out of the blue things are changing.
Finding their proper positions.

But what have I done?

5. Funeral Wedding

I used to walk alone,
but that was long time ago.
Look at me now, standing here so proud,
my shadow kissing your walls.

I have come to you, so you could see.
I shall wash your blind eyes.
In this empty room of dying faces the distance shatters.
The distance shatters.

So beautiful you are, yet so cold.
As we dance softly, I feel that someone is close.
How I hate myself at these moments.
How I hate to touch you with my hands so cold and lifeless.

Hold me now,
I feel I am fading.
Look at me now,
I am changing.

I wish I had not seen what was placed at the altar.
She was smiling at me, as if she didn't knew that she was gone.
Already gone.

You were waiting for me in the wedding dress,
by the grave of your parents.
There was this brief moment, a second of silence
that we didn't speak.
We didn't speak.

6. Disgraced Girl

Into the room which blackness veiled she was led, this innocent one.
The court sat within the shadows ruling the deed to be done.
A silence kept for thousand years violated this very night.
Purity of youth, the divine child, raped under their might.

Tired I was watching those flames.
Figures dancing on the floor.
Shadows gazing from the walls.
The faceless man at the door.

A disgraced girl shedding tears.
Pale faces with empty smiles.
Sermon is held and the music dies
at this filthy place under disguise.

No! I shall not be part of this!
I deny your God!
No! I won't be the one to taste
the virgin's blood!

7. How The Black Art Was Revealed

This is what I saw
A young girl -Just a child, standing on one of the stones.
This etheric figure, so pure in her beauty, holding a strange object and smiling at me sardonic smile
with no compassion.
She is pregnant, bearing a child for the One-Horned God.
Walking unwillingly the cold corridors of Inverted Palace.
Her reverence rest upon the fatigue of unchanging days spent in silence.
Apathy of all.

We who watch her sorry wandering learn to know that this cannot be - A child born into empty arms,
the embrace of the soon-to-be-dead-mother.
And when the Beast returns, it means only another orgy of violence and acrimony.
Circle neverending.
The darkness raping the sweet sunlight.
Pearls given to the swine.

The world full of ravenous bastards.
The children dressing themselves for a funeral feast.
The politicians eating the shit of angels.
This is it.
This all.
The mystery of subsistence.

Like Adam and Eve in their cheap paradise, tasting the fruits of Passion,
milk from the breasts of Lilith. This is the true Forbidden Fruit,
this gift of Witchcraft.
We are returning to paradise. Crawling back into the lifeless wombs of our mothers.
To dwell there.

Hidden enjoyments. Pleasures of new-born love. The first time you touch the purity of a cadaver. Haunting trips
to ancient graveyards where the stench of death is still present.
Under the wicked eye of moon there truly is nothing so rich and tender than the corpse of someone who never felt
carnal fulfillment when alive. Feel no fright to join this beautiful experience of necrophilia, because secrets
hunger for solutions.
Funereal mind games practised in quiet rooms of satanic boarding schools, where boys become men, caressing
each other again and again.

I am so glad to be one with you my appalling father, in the eve of my first exposure of secrets.
Rivers running upstream, back to the mountains where Gods guard the mortal world.

Words of simplicity covered with mysteries. Hiding the truth behind symbols of old age.
Secrecy and illusion. Bullshit written in golden letters. Poetry you call it, and how I do love this poetic
playground. I among others raising myself to the class of adepts -Keepers of the keys to the Treasure-House of
noble mysteries. The urns containing the ashes of the brains of great men. Mere insects.

It all begun when I was just an infant, and nothing more than a mindless easygoing fool, without knowledge
whatsoever. The first step was the understanding of withering -how we all have the destiny of turning to dirt.
Should you want to follow me, break the chains of this useless plane of reality where everything is controlled by
laws of coercion. Let your dreams rule.

Turning to the moon.
Turning to the sun

8. Disco Death

Let's all go to
the Disco Death,
and we can dance and dance and dance.

The Disco Death







THE CANDLES BURNING BLUE LYRICS