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ENOCHIAN CRESCENT LYRICS
"Babalon Patralx de Telocvovim" (1998 EP)
1. Pestilence And Honey
2. Vabzir Camliae
3. Thirteen Candles
4. Mortiferum Or Ptomaine Malaise
5. A Mathilde
1. Pestilence And Honey
Pestilence And Honey
You bury your Dead too shallow
To get more flies, Pestilence and Honey
A kindred Spirit I control your destiny
What you smell is Fear As I cry to the Heavens
Truth isn't what it seems It's what the Fool believes
All the good one's are Dead And all Guilt is relative
For the sake of Veracity I thought I had lost it all
But these years proved otherwise So much more was taken
Dead eyes stare back at me His promises like Honey flow
Sweetness veils the rotting Flesh
And steaming Stench of thousands of Graves
What you sense is True Evil What you smell is True Fear
What you spread is a Miasma of Flies Pestilence and Honey
Every Headstone tells a Story Of Pestilence and Honey
(and of even more flies) So pale the Pleasure so pale the Pain
Because every Headstone tells a Story
All the good one's are Dead All the good one's are Dead
2. Vabzir Camliae
Vabzir Camliax
The lunar current within the earth
It curls around the ashen, uninstructed mortals
Damn them, damn them who pity!
They shall be smitten and fed to celestial fire
Quoth the crowned and conquering one
The fiery joy, seated as a great lost god.
The eagle spake!
Fragrant steam sent up by offerings
As the night weaves her unpenetrable veil
The infinite aether of austere skies
To be airborne is to be lost to the earth
Evoken as an eagle yet swifter and deadlier
Accursed opponent twitching on the talons of eager violence
"The best blood is of the moon, monthly;
Then the fresh blood of a child or dropping
from the host of heaven; Then of enemies;
Then of the priest or the worshippers; Last of
some beast, no matter what."
- LIBER AL vel LEGIS
OL SONF VORSAG VABZIR CAMLIAX
CASARMAN VPAAHI TOH VONPH
3. Thirteen Candles
Now the night lays dark and cold
Upon a world at sleep
Across he world sweeps a crimson haze
Now the virgin's seal is broken
The fertility rite is complete
And the seed is sown in a holy place
Born a child of the underworld
The fire and flame
Born a child of the underworld
Desire and pain
Born a child of the underworld
Evil prevail
Born a child of the underworld......
Now the day is slowly fading
The 12th night is comed
Prepare soon the virgin shall give birth
To the son of Satan, Child of Hell
Spread the news across the universe
Satan's child is born tonight by womb untouched and pure
All Hell rejoice the birth of the Son
Laced in sin
Child of Hell
The spirit of lust and pain
Baptised in sacred angel blood
Now Evil can prevail
Born a child of the underworld
The fire and flame
Born a child of the underworld
Desire and pain
Born a child of the underworld
Evil prevail
Born a child of the underworld......
So light the 13 Candles
[Repeat chorus]
So light the 13 Candles
4. Mortiferum Or Ptomaine Malaise
Mortiferum Or Ptomaine Malaise
I have gone far beyond the pale
The invincible sun eclipsed and bound
Languid with absinthe, a muse I sought
From Demonic apparitions as pleasant deliverers
They ride the moon In echelon
The struggling souls, Seeking the spirit
For arcane ointments eerie secretions
Extracted from your dearly departed
Overwhelming malady, peculiar apparitions
Quis est iste qui venit?
There was music...religious
In a dark place where wrong birds fly
Dark, ropy liquid, entrap the potential
Offer the blood! OFFER THE BLOOD!
A dark current pulls
Cataclysmic forces enhance the view
I become the Dead and
Declare to the universe:
The wise one, star namer, decreeing the pattern
Apostate, Destroyer, dividing the poles, seed of rebellion
Warrior, Sun-king, providing the power, triumph of Sol
Nature transformed is the manifest goal
Yet, Reignes and Kingdomes
Crumble and fall Mortiferum, Mortiferum...
5. A Mathilde
A cruel love, to rend the hoary veil
Of cynic, hatred of mankind, and scorn
Of all things virtuous, seeing there is born
Within me now, with strange desire gone pale,
A newer sweetness in the nightingale,
Till I see good again. Thy love has torn
Philosophy's frail texture, and outworn
The sophist's falsehood and the cynic's tale.
A cruel love - I find in Magdalene
Seven angels with the seven devils wed!
I find true love where I had thought to find
A spirit to reflect my own obscene
And dead desire that scoffed at love - instead
Love comes... we part... I perish... Fate is blind!
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