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MINSK LYRICS
"The Ritual Fires of Abandonment" (2007)
1. Embers
2. White Wings
3. Mescaline Sunrise
4. The Orphans of Piety
5. Circle of Ashes
6. Ceremony Ek Stasis
1. Embers
In my darkest hour my blood runs free
I’ve come to lie on the fire
I’ve come to stare at the sun
Where two bleed as one
Is it time the sun arrived to burn away the numb
In the flesh denying the eyes of time
Make me nourishment for the blazing flame
Make me food for the sacred fire
Tide cast aside open mouth wide
The sea cried for me
Dead spirit part of me
I left you by the sea
2. White Wings
The voice cannot carry
The tongue and the lips that give it wings
For even as love crowns you
So shall it crucify you
Descend to your roots
And shake them from their clinging to the earth
We shall be together
When the white wings of death
Scatter our days
3. Mescaline Sunrise
4. The Orphans of Piety
Fire dance of self deprecation dopamine receptivity
The orphans of piety we are birthed into sorrow and shame
A truth to believe a thirst for reprieve
Our throats scorched with the sins of our fathers we burn with the sins of our fathers
These sacred certainties floated right past me and I cannot remember my name
Scandalous proclivity these orphans of piety
We cherish our reprimand pain in your shadow where I stand
Draw a circle around me in the sand I have breathed in but released your lungs
Of Ave Maria’s from wombs of the one I have wandered each day
From the alter to the grave in search of your name and face
I have seen your shadow where I stand
5. Circle of Ashes
6. Ceremony Ek Stasis
Whispered words these walls breathe the inanity of accusation
And a moment of gifting passes through what once was identity
In a movement beyond truth and falsity I can sense them in the mountains
On either side of every side
Basking in the seething sun this flesh conjures the infinite mind
While well worn pillars of objectivity collapse as if blown asunder
By the blameless pawns of poets ecstatically exhuming treasures of forgotten grace
The in-betweens surpassing their localities this grey disease reproducing
The weapons forever unleashed stockpiled with lies of every kind
There is a season a time to die
And the word games end as the clock thunders by and the rain sears this pain
As my streams keep running dry
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