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Tytuł: The past is like a funeral
  • Wykonawca: Behemoth
  • Wyświetleń: 633


     Sometimes when I visit the landscapes of the shadows
  Something that recalls the grave
  Hides in the hellish depths and awaits
  When I dream, it peeks into empty goblet
  (and) becomes the wine of ecstasy and licentiousness
  I know the one in a flock said: "Watch out, watch out"
  But I will not go away till I taste the sweetness of your body
  No matter it poisons and causes death
  The past is like an eternal funeral
  Years, thousands of them, I rotted in a monastic cell
  I resembled a stone, hiding my murderous self in silence and fear
  I lasted in the infinity of meditations and contamplations
  Waiting for the deserved dream, there on the holy land
  And its taste and coldness I remember
  Bare-foot digging my own pit
  I was kissing it as if the sweetest lover and begged
  But was the sandto become my salvation
  Or worms the people on the court of light
  The past reeks of an oak coffin, so wet and old
  Burning dirty claws in the wooden eyes of Jehova
  I killed mercy, spotting on the laws of god
  I celebrated the birth of power
  I fall in love with freedom and the beast
  And I spat out the Antichrist from my morbid womb
  In order to give life to alvine grain
  And concentrate the birth of human tragedy & destruction
  I envisaged myself as a great magician
  Althought they called armageddon the whore
  Today I celebrate my birth, though I am elder than the world
  The past only sometimes is like the sind
  That we grave-digger throws in your eyes.
  

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