mouldering

Reinhold Glière, Intermezzo & Tarantella - Božo Paradžik & Ulrich Rademacher (live 1998) Meanwhile little piece of history: our live performance from 1998, the same one which got released on our CD by EMI/Virgin Classics 2000 (in the moment of this recording definitely unplanned). Saved from my mouldering S-VHS video cassette. Božo Paradžik, double bass Ulrich Rademacher, piano Live performance, 1st november 1998 Stuttgart (D), Funkstudio

IRM - My Mother Industrial/ Noise ,Cold Meat Industry Sampler 2004 VA - Flowers Made Of Snow Trackliste: CD 1: 1. Coph Nia - The Oath 2. The Protagonist - The Sick Rose 3. In Slaugther Natives - The Vultures Revenge 4. Olen'k - Season of Tears 5. All My Faith Lost... - Sleep now 6. The Last Hour - Into Empty Depth 7. Apatheia - Safehouse 8. Ataraxia - Incabala 9. Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio - Yesterday brings but a Serpent of Ash 10. Hesperos - The Warm Whisper of the Wind 11. Sibelian - The Sin Eater 12. Sanctum - Lie low CD 2: 1. Desiderii Marginis - Where I End and you Begin 2. Raison D'être - Mouldering the Forlorn II 3. Atrium Carceri - Impaled Butterfly 4. MZ.412 - In Hoc Signe Vinces 5. Brighter Death Now - While you sleep 6. IRM - My Mother 7. Deutsch Nepal - Of Parasites and Disguises 8. Nacht - Death Posture 9. Beyond Sensory Experience - The Trade 10. Sephiroth - Therasia 11. Skin Area - Choose Art... not Life

Autopsy - Destined To Fester Autopsy - Destined To Fester Lyrics: Knee deep in sewage Maggots burrowing thru my face Blinded by disease Waiting for my living death to end Slicing teeth Infectious chewing at my skin My blood is clotted with pus The maddening shrill cries Of rabid vermin never stop I pick away At my mouldering flesh Insanity has left my mind A tortured mess Face chewed to bits On my body they feast Swimming in the rancid sewage Spreading their disease

Four Songs: Mouldering Vine, Resignation, Redeeming Grace and Gospel Dove

Autopsy (Mental Funeral) - Hole in the Head & Destined to Fester (1991). Artist/Band: Autopsy. Album: Mental Funeral (1991). Song Title: Hole in the Head & Destined to Fester (8th and 9th Tracks). Length: 6:03 & 4:33 (10:36). ~Hole in the Head~ ~Lyrics~ Shrieking demons Within your skull they fly See the colors so bright and brilliant The hunger starts It's brain matter you want Voices so twisted command you Don't try to resist it Give in to the belief That bliss is within reach So destroy the wicked in your eyes And feast Fuel the creatures in your head (The answer is in the slaughtered dead) State of mind unbalancing Distorted sick reality Must achieve immortality It's god again He speaks About the tasks you must complete Tripping hard Your brain is shorted out You must believe Cranial chaos Blurs of violence Keep the cravings fed Are they coming in or out This hole inside your head ~Destined to Fester~ ~Lyrics~ Knee deep in sewage Maggots burrowing thru my face Blinded by disease Waiting for my living death to end Slicing teeth Infectious chewing at my skin My blood is clotted with pus The maddening shrill cries Of rabid vermin never stop I pick away At my mouldering flesh Insanity has left my mind A tortured mess Face chewed to bits On my body they feast Swimming in the rancid sewage Spreading their disease

Karen Half-Japanese Old photographs and collage found mouldering in the attic. Music is "Karen" by "Half-Japanese"

Profondo Rosso - Completo Profondo Rosso (also known as Deep Red or The Hatchet Murders) is a 1975 giallo film directed and written by Dario Argento and co-written by Bernardino Zapponi. It was released on March 7, 1975 in Italy and June 11, 1976 in the United States. The film's score was composed and performed by Goblin. It stars David Hemmings as a music teacher who investigates a series of murders performed by a mysterious figure wielding a hatchet. Although the film was not a financial success internationally, the film has met with critical acclaim. Profondo Rosso follows music teacher Marcus Daly (Hemmings) as he investigates the violent murder of psychic medium Helga Ulmann (Macha Meril), which he witnesses in an apartment building. Other major characters are introduced early, including Daly's gay friend Carlo (Gabriele Lavia), Ulmann's associate Dr. Giordani (Glauco Mauri) and reporter Gianna Brezzi (Daria Nicolodi), with whom Daly begins an affair. After his attempt to rescue the medium fails, Daly realises he could have seen the killer's face among a group of portraits on the wall of the victim's apartment but is unable to find or recognize it when the police arrive. Later in the film, he also initially overlooks another clue that causes him to discover a mouldering corpse walled up in a derelict house. In typical Argento fashion, one murder leads to a series of others as Daly's obsession with this vital clue that he fails to understand endangers his life and that of everyone with whom he ...

The Rainy Day, by Longfellow Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Text below: The Rainy Day The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.

César Franck, sonata in A major (1.& 2. mov.) Božo Paradžik & Ulrich Rademacher (live, 1998) Meanwhile little piece of history: our live performance from 1998, the same one which got released on our CD by EMI/Virgin Classics 2000 (in the moment of this recording definitely unplanned). Saved from meanwhile mouldering S-VHS video cassette. Here first two movements of Franck. Božo Paradžik, double bass Ulrich Rademacher, piano Live performance, 1st november 1998 Stuttgart (D), Funkstudio

Robyn Hitch*** - Point it at gran Alone and pointless by her mouldering self She stares at the tin of sardines on the shelf By a paraffin lamp in a dingy brown room Gran sits and broods in the thickening gloom It's a gloom that congeals; it's so greasy and thick You could cut into strips and roast on a stick And hand round to friends but there's nobody there Just Gran, on her own, in a miserable chair So don't point it at me Point it at Gran She needs it more than I do And more than Princess Anne When Princess Anne's eighty-two And living in a one room flat in Hackney Maybe she could do with a bit as well Don't point it at me Don't point it at yourself Just point it at Gran And the sardines on the shelf Don't point it at me I've had more than enough Just point it at Gran She could do with plenty of stuff Don't point it at me Point it at Gran Well, it could be a firehose Or it could be a flan Now some people are happy And some people are bored And some people are left And completely ignored So why should your life end on a dismal note?

Disgrace - Immortality's Open Lake Disgrace ( founded '87 ) was one of the oldest death metal bands from Finland and pretty much started the Finnish death metal scene together with local band Xysma. Band recorded two demos 1990 which were titled "Beyond The Immortalized Existence" and "Inside the Labyrinth of Depression". Next year (1991) the signed in Seraphic Decay in America and recorded "Debts of Gods" EP. The band finally recorded their first LP ,"Grey Misery" in 92', after two demos and one EP. After Grey Misery bands style changed to more punk rock oriented style, in which they have remained till this far. Disgrace's musical and lyrical themes were pretty independent from the mainstream DM going on. Lyrical themes dealt with obscure and depressive themes in a phantasy coloured worlds with lots of symbolism involved. Musically they remained pretty surprising; progressive and swinging, by still not forgetting the DM riffs and melody. This is the closing track of this magnificent gem Lyrics : In arid lands The roots of men are mouldering In the depth of mud Surrounded by rotting bulrushes A black unforeseen lake It rinses me, sand calls me towards ruins Immortality's open lake The kingdom of gulls Dead fish As a food of mind Red eyes gaze Bleakly at my neck... immortality? And the rain washes rainbow down I scrull to it, examinate a net It twind from your hair Curls dyed by bottom mud Only the dead hear The sigh of the sentenced Who are inside the rounded rocks In a mender stream A day follows another ...

Cradle Of Filth-From The CradlE To EnslavE with lyrics ! Please rate and comment! Lyrics: Two thousand fattened years like maniacs Have despoiled our common grave Now what necrophagous Second Coming backs From the cradle to enslave? Sickle constellations Stud the belts that welt the sky Whilst the bitter winter moon Prowls the cloud, dead-eyed Like shifting parent flesh Under silk matricide... Watchful as she was upon Eden Where every rose arbour and orchard she swept Hid the hissing of a serpent Libido In an ancient tryst with catastrophe Soon the be kept Hear that hissing now on the breeze As through the plundered groves of the carnal garden A fresh horror blows but ten billion souls Are blind to see the rotting wood for the trees This is the theme to a better Armageddon Nightchords rake the heavens PAN DAEMON AEAON And what use are prayers to that god? As devils bay concensus for the space to piss On your smouldering faith And the mouldering face Of this world long a paradise lost This is the end of everything Hear the growing chora that a new dawn shall bring Danse macabre 'neath the tilt of the zodiac Now brighter stars shall reflect on our fate What sick nativities will be freed when those lights burn black? The darkside of the mirror always threw our malice back... I see the serpentine in your eyes The nature of the beast as revelations arrive Our screams shall trail to Angels For those damned in flames repay All sinners lose their lot on Judgement Day We should have cut our looses as at Calvary But our hearts like heavy ...

Eucharist - Once My Eye Moved Mountains From the album "A Velvet Creation" (1993). Eucharist (featuring the drummer Daniel Erlandsson, currently in Arch Enemy, Carcass) were one of the first bands, along with At The Gates and Dissection, that have pioneered the original, highly influential "Gothenburg" Melodic Death Metal sound. Respect \m/ Lyrics: Once my eyed moved mountains My sword could pierce like lightning and on the back of my horse I travelled Through eternal voids withing the timeless sphere Wolves were running by my side and they abided by my nocturnal grace My power was sevenfold and greater than any exalted form (Lead Markus) So I tasted the air of mouldering The air of mortifying resort I retired as an illusion and enshrined in bitterness

Bolivian Exotic Woods Exotic Woods Lumber Services and Mouldering. Short Film Presentation of Bolivian Exotic Woods.

Hail! ye sighing sons of sorrow sh87-mouldering fromWilliam Walker's "The Southern Harmony, and Musical Companion" Hail! ye sighing sons of sorrow, learn from me your certain doom; learn from me your fate tomorrow, dead - perhaps laid in your tomb! See all nature fading, dying! Silent all things seem to pine; life from vegetation flying, brings to mind "the mouldering vine." See! in yonder forest standing lofty cedars, how they nod! Scenes of nature how surprising, Read in nature nature's God Whilst the annual frosts are cropping, leaves and tendrils from the trees, So our friends are early drooping, We are like to one of these. Hollow winds about me roaring, Noisy waters round me rise; Whilst I sit my fate deploring, tears fast streaming from my eyes. What to me is autumn's treasure since I know no earthy joy, long I've lost all youthful pleasure, Time must youth and health destroy. ======== I'd like to acknowledge a grateful thanks to license holders for the use of the following resources: by Matthew Venn led lamp By Albert Herring/pfly Peony petal after the rain By Daniel Leininger Steam by pizzodisevo Melagrana frutto, Pomegranate fruit, Granatapfel-Frucht By David Baron White-tailed deer fawn By Albert Herring/pfly Backbone Rock By Brian Stansberry A Highland Pasture by John MP Knox Vivid Soap by Jimmy Harris Vase at Coricancha, Cusco by Phil Sellens Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa) by Tony Alter Small Pottery Bowl Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - The Rainy Day Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - The Rainy Day - Read by Kristin Hughes The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.

Reinhold Glière, Preludium & Scherzo op. 32 - Božo Paradžik & Ulrich Rademacher (live 1998) Meanwhile little piece of history: our live performance from 1998, the same one which got released on our CD by EMI/Virgin Classics 2000 (in the moment of this recording definitely unplanned). Saved from my mouldering S-VHS video cassette. Božo Paradžik, double bass Ulrich Rademacher, piano Live performance, 1st november 1998 Stuttgart (D), Funkstudio

Dark season-Mouldering Infestation Italian Death Metal/Grindcore from -91 The song from the -92 split album with the Cripple ***s

Parthenon Sculptures, British Museum (part 1) The Parthenon Sculptures - British Museum Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced, thy mouldering shrines removed By British hands, which it had best behoved To guard those relics ne'er to be restored. Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved, And once again thy hapless bosom gored, And snatch'd thy shrinking gods to northern climes abhorred! Lord Byron, "Childe Harold"

Circle of Ouroborus - Mouldering Leaves Great band from Finland, best song on the best release. All copyright legislation acknowledged.

Jansug Kakhidze The Moon over Mtatsminda/მთაწმინდის მთვარე Jansug Kakhidze (Georgian: ჯანსუღ კახიძე) (26 May 1936 in Tblisi 8 March 2002) was a Georgian conductor. Poetry by Galaktion Tabidze Lyrics of the Song My eyes have never seen the moon so lovely as tonight; In silence wrapt it is the breathless music of the night. Moonbeams embroider shadows with fine thread of silver light; O, eyes have never seen the sky so lovely as tonight! The moon adorned in beams of pearls seems like a queen divine; The stars like fire-flies tangled in a web about her shine. The Mtkvari flows a silver stream of lambent beauty bright; O, eyes have never seen the sky so lovely as tonight! Here in immortal calm and peace the great and noble sleep Beneath the soft and dewy turf in many a mouldering heap. Here Baratashvili came with wild desires to madness wrought, Oppressed by raging fires of passion, and perplexing thought. O, could I like the swan pour forth my sould in melody That melts the mortal heart and breathes of immortality ! Let my free song fly far beyond this world to regions high Where on the wings of poesy it will glorify the sky. If death approaching makes the fragrance of the roses sweeter, Attunes the soul to melodies that make all sadness dearer, And if that swans song thus becomes a denizen of heaven, If in that song she feels that death will be but ecstasy, then, - Let me like her sing one last song, and in death find delight. So breathless still and lovely I have never seen the night! O, mighty dead ...

Sajak Sisa Revolusi.wmv Rest Of Revolution Poem T. Wijaya Hutch in this house terrace losing of bird. Before interests he becomes dirty, aroma and rigid. Shoes which been worn it is becoming fear stares at street. Old and no longer work in factories. Formerly, a couple of bird and some the chlids builds this hutch. The Rains and temperature mouldering x'self trust, they address with head to stare at sky. What is going? Interest, shoe, footgear, no longer work in factories. They is like Tan Malaka dead outside this hutch. World birds hates this hutch. He said, lets death is furled by storm. 2008

Manes - Under ein blodraud maane Album - Under ein blodraut maane Fall into profound awe. I kneel, I prostrate. From the head of Caper Aniza, the horned one, arise. Upon my mouldering bones. I will bring fire to thee. Dark lord, hear my hall. Into the crimson moon. Obesessed by the rising moon. Darkness prevails. The vile, unholy one. From the abyss, arise, my master calls. Evil supreme. Jesus wept. And heaven fell.

Aberdeen, (from Super 8 film of late 1960's) I took this film with a Kodak (I think) super 8 camera in the late 1960's when I was a student in Aberdeen. I hope this may bring back memories for some people as it does for myself. If I remember rightly, these were the days just a few years prior to Aberdeen's North Sea oil boom.The Granite City (probably the most solidly constructed municipality in the whole of history!) changes little at its core, but I'm sure a few of these run down back streets and the then mouldering churches will have been swept away in the callous winds of change over the past 40 odd years. I loved to prowl these environs on my own (with or without movie camera) as a young quine and remember often (naively) walking back to my student digs in the hours of darkness through the harbour area. With the benefit of life's experience, I can say that I was lucky to survive, but then again, there was probably less need for paranoia. As to the film, it is part of a very small collection of reels which I took then. One of my biggest regrets is not to have carried on for a bit longer.But then, I became discouraged by the difficulty of editing in those days, which involved mechanical splicing processes and messy glues, which totally overwhelmed my always inadequate practical abilities. How was I to know that at the other end of my lifetime, digital translation of these images would be possible, and the miracles of computer editing programs would become available, even to the technically challenged person such ...

John Brown's Body PI William W. Patton John Brown's body lies mouldering in the grave, While weep the sons of *** whom he ventured all to save; But tho he lost his life while struggling for the slave, His soul is marching on. John Brown was a hero, undaunted, true and brave, And Kansas knows his valor when he fought her rights to save; Now, tho the grass grows green above his grave, His soul is marching on. He captured Harper's Ferry, with his nine*** men so few, And frightened "Old Virginny" till she trembled thru and thru; They hung him for a traitor, themselves the traitor crew, But his soul is marching on. John Brown was John the Baptist of the Christ we are to see, Christ who of the bondmen shall the Liberator be, And soon thruout the Sunny South the slaves shall all be free, For his soul is marching on. The conflict that he heralded he looks from heaven to view, On the army of the Union with its flag red, white and blue. And heaven shall ring with anthems o'er the deed they mean to do, For his soul is marching on. Ye soldiers of Freedom, then strike, while strike ye may, The death blow of oppression in a better time and way, For the dawn of old John Brown has brightened into day, And his soul is marching on.

Yosemite National Park Tuolumne Grove A mouldering trunk 03 10 10

A precious—mouldering pleasure 'tis by Emily Dickinson 252.ASF A precious—mouldering pleasure—'tis— To meet an Antique Book— In just the Dress his Century wore— A privilege—I think— His venerable Hand to take— And warming in our own— A passage back—or two—to make— To Times when he—was young— His quaint opinions—to inspect— His thought to ascertain On Themes concern our mutual mind— The Literature of Man— What interested Scholars—most— What Competitions ran— When Plato—was a Certainty— And Sophocles—a Man— When Sappho—was a living Girl— And Beatrice wore The Gown that Dante—deified— Facts Centuries before He traverses—familiar— As One should come to Town— And tell you all your Dreams—were true— He lived—where Dreams were born— His presence is Enchantment— You beg him not to go— Old Volume shake their Vellum Heads And tantalize—just so— Emily Dickinson

The Rocker Covers - American Idiot (Green Day) More information and to book The Rocker Covers: /rockercovers /pages/The-Rocker-Covers/155584211132005 The Rocker Covers: American Idiot (Green Day cover) Shot and Directed by: Andrew J Sykes Filmed at: Valley Gas Speed Shop (Thanks to Jimmy, Ellie & the boys) Recently discovered under a pile of mouldering jump-blues master tapes in Bristol's famous Dog House Studios, are these huge hip-shaking cuts from the mighty Rocker Covers. Previously, it was assumed that all that remained of the 'Cover's "work" was a half-finished restoration of a rusty Ford Zephyr and an enthusiastic karaoke-tape version of Shakin Stevens' "Merry Christmas Everyone" by the band's front man. Thinking themselves penniless, the boys had gone off to work as jobbing mastic-asphalt spreaders and seaside tattooists but in the wake of their master cuts being found...they reunited. Having dug out the Revox tape machine and their one Reslo mic, the band hit the studio to record big-boppin' rockabilly versions of contemporary rock standards. Hell-bent on hitting the road with their bass-slappin', fret-twanging, snare-shuffling sound, they're all set to bat those baseballs right out of the stadium - ladies and gentlemen...it's the Rocker Covers!

1877 Herald News Mountain Meadows Massacre May, 1877, John D Lee lies a-mouldering in the grave, Briggy is soon to follow, just as Lee Prophesied: (Lee said if his confession was true Briggy would follow him in 6 months and Dang, Brig' did die! Nice. This news article addresses the question:"How could Briggy not have known". It was impossible for Briggy not to have known what was going on. Well, for one, he sent Fat Man, Georgie Porgie Smith,south, in front of the wagon train, spewing hatred and lies. The object was the obtaining of wealth and impressing the forces that be.

Forced to be Contented My State of the Union Address. forced to be contented ----- come people all wherever you be I hope you listen well to me and then with me you will agree what makes us all contented the president's good I have to say because he cannot have his way his merry men all have gone astray so he must be contented oh dear oh dear what times are these the rich can do just as they please while the poor are starving by degrees and we can be contented the fees and taxes are so high and the unions have all said goodbye the working class so fast to die so we must be contented this is the truth I mean to say that once we saw a brighter day but now we're mouldering in the grave and we lie there contented oh dear etc they said reform would do us good it has not yet but I wish it would the thousands that are needing food must starve and be contented the children to their parents cry as they for work are passing by and they go to school but wonder why and wander on contented oh dear etc the farmers cannot sell their wheat and the stores they sell us poisoned meat the earth's ruin is nearly complete but they tell us to be contented the workers are all standing still if they stand up they might get killed and the scabs are coming up over the hill all hands must be contented oh dear etc so tell me now which side you're on will you fight or will you run or will you laugh and have your fun and stay at home contented

César Franck, sonata in A major (3.& 4. mov.) Božo Paradžik & Ulrich Rademacher (live, 1998) Meanwhile little piece of history: our live performance from 1998, the same one which got released on our CD by EMI/Virgin Classics 2000 (in the moment of this recording definitely unplanned). Saved from meanwhile mouldering S-VHS video cassette. Božo Paradžik, double bass Ulrich Rademacher, piano Live performance, 1st november 1998 Stuttgart (D), Funkstudio

Orlando Bloom Ned Kelly Irish Music Video Challenge I did a short version of Ned Kelly for Cosmic Starz Irish/Scotish Music Video Challenge. The song is from this movie One Sunday morning as I went walking By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray I heard a prisioner his fate bewailing As on the sunny river bank I lay I am a native from Erin's island But banished now from my native shore They stole me from my aged parents And from the maiden I do adore I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie At Norfolk Island and Emu Plains At Castle Hill and at cursed Toongabbie At all these settlements I've been in chains But of all places of condemnation And penal stations in New South Wales To Moreton Bay I have found no equal Excessive tyranny each day prevails For three long years I was beastly treated And heavy irons on my legs I wore My back from flogging was lacerated And oft times painted with my crimson gore And many a man from downright starvation Lies mouldering now underneath the clay And Captain Logan he had us mangled All at the triangles of Moreton Bay Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews We were oppressed under Logan's yoke Till a native black lying there in ambush Did deal this tyrant his mortal stroke My fellow prisoners be exhilarated That all such monsters such a death may find And when from *** we are liberated Our former sufferings will fade from mind

Jansug Kakhidze - The memory Jansug Kakhidze (ჯანსუღ კახიძე) (26 May 1936 in Tblisi 8 March 2002) was a Georgian Conductor and Composer The Moon over Mtatsminda : 4:55 Composer/Performer : Jansug Kakhidze Poetry: Galaktion Tabidze My eyes have never seen the moon so lovely as tonight; In silence wrapt it is the breathless music of the night. Moonbeams embroider shadows with fine thread of silver light; O, eyes have never seen the sky so lovely as tonight! The moon adorned in beams of pearls seems like a queen divine; The stars like fire-flies tangled in a web about her shine. The Mtkvari flows a silver stream of lambent beauty bright; O, eyes have never seen the sky so lovely as tonight! Here in immortal calm and peace the great and noble sleep Beneath the soft and dewy turf in many a mouldering heap. Here Baratashvili came with wild desires to madness wrought, Oppressed by raging fires of passion, and perplexing thought. O, could I like the swan pour forth my sould in melody That melts the mortal heart and breathes of immortality ! Let my free song fly far beyond this world to regions high Where on the wings of poesy it will glorify the sky. If death approaching makes the fragrance of the roses sweeter, Attunes the soul to melodies that make all sadness dearer, And if that swans song thus becomes a denizen of heaven, If in that song she feels that death will be but ecstasy, then, - Let me like her sing one last song, and in death find delight. So breathless still and ...

Cradle Of filth - From the Cradle to Enslave From the Cradle to Enslave Song By cradle Of Filth ... your Gonna like this one . Two thousand fattened years like maniacs Have despoiled our common grave Now what necrophagous Second Coming backs From the cradle to enslave? Sickle constellations Stud the belt that welt the sky Whilst the Bitter winter moon Prowls the clouds, dead-eyed Like shifting parent flesh Under silk matricide... Watchful as she was upon Eden Where every rose arbour and orchard she swept hid the hissing of a serpent Libido In an ancient tryst with catastrophe Soon to be kept Hear that hissing now on the breeze As through the plundered groves of the carnal garden A fresh horror blows But ten billion souls Are blind to see the rotting wood for the trees This is the theme to a better Armageddon Nightchords rake the heavens Pandaemonaeon And what use are prayers to that God As devils bay concenus for the space to piss On your smouldering faith And the the mouldering face Of this world long a paradise lost This is the end of everything Hear the growing chora that a new dawn shall bring Dance macabre 'neath the tilt of the zodiac Now brighter stars shall reflect on our fate What sick nativities will be freed when those lights burn black? The darkside of the mirror always threw our malice back... I see the serpentine in your eyes The nature of the beast as revelations arrive Our screams shall trail to Angels For those damned in flames repay All sinners lose their lot on Judgement Day We should have cut our ...

Cradle of Filth - From the Cradle to Enslave *Lyrics* Two thousand fattened years like maniacs Have despoiled our common grave Now what necrophagous Second Coming backs From the cradle to enslave Sickle constellations Stud the belts that welt the sky Whilst bitter winter moon Prowls the clouds, dead eyed Like shifting parent flesh Under silk matricide... Watchful as she was upon Eden Where every rose arbour and orchard she wept Hid the hissing of a serpent libido In an ancient tryst with catastrophe Soon to be kept Hear the hissing now on the breeze As through the plundered groves of the carnal garden A fresh horror blows But ten billion souls Are blind to see the rotting wood for the trees This is the theme to a better Armageddon Nightchords rake the heavens PAN DAEMON AEON And what use are prayers to that "god" As devils bay concensus for the space to piss On your smouldering faith And the mouldering face Of this world long a paradise lost This is the end of everything Hear the growing chora that the new dawn shall bring Danse macabre 'neath the tilt of the zodiac Now brighter stars shall reflect on our fate What sick nativities will be freed when those lights turn black? The darkside of the mirror always threw our malice back... I see the serpentine in your eyes The nature of the beast as revelations arrive Our screams shall trail to Angels For those damned in flames repay All sinners lose their lot on Judgement Day We should have cut our losses at Calvary But our hearts like heavy crosses held the vain belief Salvation ...

Elegy Written in A Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray part the first Elegy Written in A Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray part the first"ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD" The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds: Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The ***'s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share, Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and ...

Candlemass - Epistle No. 81 There is no sound in this clip. After an update, Youtube messed some of my videos up. They uploaded fine, worked fine the first few days, and then the sound went. I've left the videos up as a testimony to the ineffectuality of Youtube. 08 - Epistle No. 81 Taken from the 1988 release, "Ancient Dreams". Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits mom frere One small darkness encloses How gold and purple that shovel there To rags and rubbish disposes Charon beckons from tumultuous waves Then trice this ancient digger of graves For thee ne'er grapeskin shall glister Wherefore my Movits come help me to raise A gravestone over our sister Even desirous and modest adobe Under the sighing branches Where time and death, a marriage forebode Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes To thee ne'er jealousy findeth her way Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray Flitteth amid these barrows E'en enmity armed, as thou seest this day Piously breaketh her arrow The little bell echoes the great bells groan Robed in the door the precentor Noisome with quiristers prayerful moan Blesses those, who enter The way to this templed city of tombs Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms Fragments of mouldering biers Till black-clad each mourner, His station assumes Bows there deeply in tears

Elegy Amorphis Elegy (1996) Album Long evenings full on longing Low-spirited my mornings Full of longing too my nights And all times the bitterest. 'Tis my lovely I long for It is my darling I miss My black-browed one I grieve for. Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one There's no hearing my treasure No seeing my marten-breat No hearing her in the lane Driving below the window Chopping the wood by the stack Clinking outside the cook-house In the earth my berry lies Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one Long evenings full on longing Low-spirited my mornings Full of longing too my nights And all times the bitterest. There's no hearing my treasure No seeing my marten-breat No hearing her in the lane Driving below the window Chopping the wood by the stack Clinking outside the cook-house In the earth my berry lies In the soil she's mouldering Under the sand my sweet one Beneath the grass my treasure The one I grieve for.

John Brown's Body Negro Spiritual - Traditional Juarês de Mira - Singer Lazaro Wenger - Pianist Guaira Theather Curitiba - Brazil - 2003 John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, But his soul goes marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah, Glory, glory, hallelujah, Glory, glory, hallelujah His soul goes marching on. The stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down, The stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down, His soul goes marching on Glory, glory, hallelujah, Glory, glory, hallelujah, Glory, glory, hallelujah His soul goes marching on.

Rise Up Singing: John Brown's Body (Song starts right away, for once) Traditional American (US) Rise Up Singing chapter: Freedom, p.61 G - - - / C - G - / - - B7 Em / CDG - There's a lot of background noise in this one, but it's also a much better taste of Bangkok than any of my other videos. So if you care about where I live, here you go. You're welcome. I hope you can still make out the lyrics. John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave. Here's a version more extensive than that in Rise Up Singing, although I stay true to the Rise Up Singing lyrics in the video: Old John Browns body lies moldering in the grave, While weep the sons of *** whom he ventured all to save; But tho he lost his life while struggling for the slave, His soul is marching on. John Brown was a hero, undaunted, true and brave, And Kansas knows his valor when he fought her rights to save; Now, tho the grass grows green above his grave, His soul is marching on. He captured Harpers Ferry, with his nine*** men so few, And frightened "Old Virginny" till she trembled thru and thru; They hung him for a traitor, they themselves the traitor crew, But his soul is marching on. John Brown was John the Baptist of the Christ we are to see, Christ who of the bondmen shall the Liberator be, And soon thruout the Sunny South the slaves shall all be free, For his soul is marching on. The conflict that he heralded he looks from heaven to view, On the army of the Union with its flag red, white and blue. And heaven shall ring with anthems oer ...