1. |
Unfied Fields
05:14
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One day I sat next to a derelict column, in the place where I begun to lose my memories.
“Where are you going wearing such a sacred and elegant coat?” whispered someone whose voiceprint was recognizable as if it came from the apse of a Gothic cathedral and I was at the bottom of its right nave, yet I was outdoors and those words were murmured by the wind. The body curved like a lamppost in the rain, hunched over a burden that I hadn’t carried since I was no more young. The dignity of an Antiochian anchorite but with a glazed glance and enfeebled vigor. However, it is likely that it does not matter that I do not recognize anything of what surrounds me, the original experience in the past is the root and true beauty is such when there are limits where perception is referred back to what it does not see and hear. So I fled very early, leaving the desert behind.
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2. |
Cotard Delusion
04:24
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There was a place down there, as far removed
Not known by sight, but by a brooklet's sound
Which flows down through a hole there in the rock
Gnawed in it by the water's spiral course
Which slightly slopes
We entered upon that hidden path
And without caring for repose
We went up till through a rounded aperture
I beheld some of the lovely things the sky contains
Thence we come out, and saw again the stars
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3. |
Syncretism Incarnate
05:16
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4. |
Malachite Mountains
05:19
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I’ve lost the specters of my deep youthful faith amongst the rubble and the soil. I walk abreast my affliction entangled with the shadows of the man I used to be.
In contemplation I have melt away...
In this fatal blight and degradation, where the clatter of a decadent spoiled population that once occupied it still echoes, now lies its lonesome epitaph in ruination. In ruination...
I can no longer remember my quest. I’ve been lost in the unspoilt alleys where time has interrupted its course for days, maybe years.
I look at my self deformed by a strange liquid that lies inside a lonesome puddle.
Who I am and where I’m going? In this ominous desolation I turn my gaze to the mounts, brightened by a breeze so pure and fresh.
I distinguish them clearly, but they’ve never been so far.
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Turris Eburnea Milan, New York
Gabriele Gramaglia - vocals, guitar, other instruments
Nicholas McMaster - bass guitar
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