1. |
Our Sacred Soil
05:20
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Our Sacred Soil
Amidst the grey great cities,
Lies in the dark,
A civilization in despair.
Suicidal notes
In the gentlemen's hands.
Silence in the eyes like clouds.
Are we so superior,
That we walk upon Earth
Only with asphalt and soles
To feel above it all ?
Beat the drums
Crack the bones
And paint your face with blood
For nature will never care nor ask,
If the feet or the animal or the shoes of the man,
Bending a trail of grass,
Are trespassing her lands
Nor never claim “it’s mine”.
Beat the drums
Crack the bones
And paint your face with blood
Gentlemen, do you remember
How to walk barefoot ?
To humbly press the soil ?
To be grateful to what is,
And not what you own ?
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2. |
Palin Genesis
06:26
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Palin Genesis
Only birth can defeat death.
Not a revival of old bones,
But the rising of a new soul upon them.
Surrender ‘till annihilation
Of conscience, of fear, of change.
Dissolve the shell of self.
Dissolve the shell of self.
Rise upon your white dry bones
Sing a song so they dance
Moving in realities
Bearers of a new soul.
Travel to the place where ego is no longer needed,
No crystallisation of fear, no heavy matter,
Only silence
An peace.
Rise upon your white dry bones
Sing a song so they dance
Moving in realities
Bearers of a new soul.
Rise, rise, rise upon
Your white, white, white dry bones.
Surrender to the vastness of our ignorance,
To our multiple existences,
To our insignificance.
Where resides the meaning, if the purpose is to let go ?
Maybe it’s all about creating,
Crafting life over & over.
Over & over…
Evolving
Dissolving
Dying to oneself
And rise again
Over & over…
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3. |
Small-Hearted & Blind
07:01
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Small-hearted & blind
Hey God,
Watch the kids you raised :
Hostile sparkle in the eye
And a thousand matchsticks in the hand
Before a calcinated land.
We are the damned and the chosen.
For the eye of Man is blind
And his hand is cold.
Depraved of conscience
He runs to the void.
We are a filthy plague,
Poison has rooted deep
In our weak minds.
Where will beauty stand
In the heart of cowards ?
Hear my desperate prayer
Before apocalypse,
A call to wake us all.
For we could have great,
And we could have been wise,
Enough to be content
To live in paradise.
Ignorance is our doom
Disease of our times,
The spineless proof
That we're small-hearted and blind.
I'm ashamed of my race
I'm ashamed of my kind
Our only legacy
Is the dust we leave behind.
I'm ashamed
I'm ashamed
To be one of us
'Cause we're small-hearted and blind !
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4. |
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White Knight Syndrome
For so many years, I took the role of a saviour
Just to deserve to be alive,
To earn a place among you
And be paid with love crumbs in return.
I have the white knight syndrome,
The white knight syndrome.
In needed to be rescued, in needed to be saved,
Not silent witnesses behind my glass cell.
So I became the saviour, at least I played his game,
The one nobody was for me, alone in my cage.
Being helpful to feel worthy,
I’d be crucified for affection.
I’d do anything, ‘cause I lacked of everything.
And I’m urging, urging for it.
I was so fucking sure I couldn’t be rightful if not useful.
I have the white knight syndrome,
The white knight syndrome.
So I played the white knight
The one we’re all looking for,
Dying for help, craving for attention,
To ease our pain away.
I learned to be useful, as a thing or a tool,
But as a person no, ‘cause that wasn’t the rule.
So I played the saviour ‘cause I couldn’t save you,
I played the saviour, ‘cause nobody cared for me.
I was all alone, for so long.
All alone.
I have the white knight syndrome,
The white knight syndrome.
In needed to be rescued, in needed to be saved,
Not silent witnesses behind my glass cell.
So I became the saviour, at least I played his game,
The one nobody was for me, alone in my cage.
How can I be loved if not usable ?
Snuggle into my arms, I am the white knight.
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5. |
Nightshade Winds
06:32
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Nightshade Winds
A violent wind is blowing in your mind
Crawling into your soul
To empty it dry.
Becoming your only thought,
Your painful caress.
The violent wind is
Uninterested by
The devoted hatred
Filling your every cell
For him.
He brings your pains to agony
Silently whirling.
Powerless.
Bashing on the shell of your brain.
Powerless.
Powerless.
His intangible touch
Overwhelms your senses.
A never ending whisper
That brings your voids to whistle,
Seeping in every womb.
He brings your pains to agony
Silently whirling.
Powerless.
Bashing on the shell of your brain.
Unfazed and stronger than your spirit,
He brings a hurricane
And a thousand thunderstorms.
Never quieting his rage,
Always knocking at your doors.
There's a violent wind
That howls his song at night.
On dark corners.
On empty beds.
On lonely hearts.
She was the wind breathing inside you,
Casting the weather,
Raising hell
And bringing rain to drown you.
This violent wind was a she.
And she she blew upon your soul,
Rooted out your core.
Relentlessly howling her song,
Consistent and impapable,
Haunting you
Haunting you
Until,
Cell by cell,
You are eaten away.
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6. |
Where Lies Our Hearts
05:11
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Where lies our hearts ?
What makes us humans ?
Where lies our hearts ?
Could we open up to a revelation ?
Could we be ready for redemption ?
What makes us humans ?
Is it the cowardice lying in our eyes ?
The dying fire of our spirits ?
Or our sanctified ignorance ?
What makes us humans
In wars and terrors ?
What lies beneath the stains of pain ?
Far below there’s a kingdom, where light prevails
Where the sun rises on your dreams.
Where is this place ?
Where is this temple ?
Where, amidst the chaos, could turn our eyes ?
This question raises a rebellion in our tamed little hearts.
What makes us humans ?
Do the animals break each other’s hearts too ?
Do they take their own lives ?
Do they live in despair the same way as we do ?
I want to sing a song for what we’ve left
Of big loves
Of big hearts
Of big dreams.
Can you hear it ?
Are we seeking the truth in our shining mirrors ?
In our social medias ?
Raising a cult for the ego
And mistaking idols for heros ?
All the gods are dead
And with them the very notion
Of a sacred nature living in every creature.
Where lies the magic ?
What lits the fire in our souls ?
What makes us humans
If not the grace we were given ?
What makes us humans ?
Can you answer that ?
Can you hear this song, the tiniest one,
Shaking your truths and wandering your mind ?
You’re ready, face it and remember who you are
You’re ready, face it and remember who you are
Where lies our hearts ?
What makes us humans, my friend ?
What makes us humans ?
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Indigo Raven Toulouse, France
Stripped to the bone Doom-metal with a shamanic flavour
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Toulouse very very Doom City
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