1. |
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Rest your sore head.
Kiss the calm feathers.
Catch the void.
Let it pull.
Don't mind the hell that creeps above.
Dance with the noise.
Let it scoop you up.
Mount the dream.
Ride its tour.
Do mind the grave that lurks inside.
Crack in the heart.
Silent explosion that ends me.
Everything hurts.
Does it imply that I am?
I'm punching my arm to exist.
Expiring lung.
Choking implosion that ends me.
Stabbing my arm.
Chasing my breath as it's fading.
I die every other night.
Funny how humans adapt to most things.
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2. |
Mail Order Doom (WHWGH)
03:05
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As you ditch the errorless path,
there is a malice that's tremblin' within.
It's raging.
As you mock our perfect design,
there is a crackdown that tick in our fists.
The ruling of fate is on.
Here we are; your mail order doom.
Righteous and faithful, with bliss in our eyes.
Hate is here with a license to kill.
We read then we do.
We read then we do...
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3. |
Milk The Peacock
05:29
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Milk the peacock. Deep fry its song.
Syntax salad the dada thrill.
We're the aliens that alienates.
Stage the opera that you will gag.
We're pushing on. We're pushing on.
Shrieks so dazzling - the real air waves.
Shots so meaty - the true billboards.
Stubborn beacons that pave new ways.
Bleed the art-show that you will boo.
We’re pushing on. We’re pushing on.
The mobs that quash are mindless sheep.
Goon awful guardians of the moneybag grab, will you grow a pair soon?
Is it a myth or is your world in fact hollow?
We know a Jack who did his flaming art to an audience of null.
Emoting to air and with a heart so pure, imagine that.
Did we just strike your imagery, oh my, it must hurt like a bitch.
Here come the kicker that will make you cry; we've just begun.
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4. |
Lost In My Cocoon
03:53
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Pop the lid.
Whirl the cells.
Lost in my cocoon bending sounds.
Private flights.
Three huge knocks.
On the frame.
Who or what has come? I'm not in.
I'm somewhere.
Wipe off your dreams.
It is here.
Grab its hand.
That human rite.
Everything feels alien...
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5. |
An Opus So Far In
03:25
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I ́ll funk the moon with my chopstick.
Blow Jazz for the rupture and her moonbeam.
I'll pump my chaos in cosmos.
An opus so far in.
Will I make it?
...but sometimes I fear that my quest is utter madness, despite knowing that ones dreams should be chased. Stifling...angst begone.
I'll squirt the flag with a Pollock.
Dirt dance for the iris.
Will you catch it?
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6. |
Trans-Atlantic Ache
04:57
|
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I ́m here. Through the screen I ́m close, yet far away from your tears that are freaking out. Falling grief. Want to catch you. You are scaring me.
Now as you change. You claim that all is roses, but time has shown otherwise. Recurring pain. Getting wilder. You are scaring me.
Am I a mourner ́s dump? A thing you use for venting, then stow - or am I a friend? No venom here. Let me catch you. Compassion is my name.
E.L.N.
You are loved.
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7. |
Nocturnal Hysteria pt. 2
05:59
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I am the curse
which I am weaving
into my years.
When will I end?
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8. |
An Archetype
01:56
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You know this song; an archetype.
It guides us through the nights.
Always, always keeping on.
Try to find the way.
All is full of love.
We are almost there.
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Alpine Those Myriads Norway
Alpine Those Myriads was a band from Norway active from 2001-2020. They started as a duo consisting of Gypus Chelofan & Elijah Noah with the record "Yr Royal Jetlag Gospel". In 2005 Elijah left the band and gave the helm to Gypus which lead the band with invited artists until 2020. On this here site you'll find their artful copiousness...dig in chompsters of muziks! ... more
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