|
SóLSTAFIR LYRICS
"Black Death" (2002 Demo)
1. Black Death: The Ritual
2. 13:13
3. Myrksvefn
4. Heavy Metal Bastard Gíslason
5. Scars of self hatred
1. Black Death: The Ritual
2. 13:13
13:13
Woke up on a winter day.
Feeling fucking mean,
decided to stay.
13:24
Feeling sick and tired,
can´t take this any more.
Presence no longer desired.
13:43
The thought keeps hunting me,
burning desire to break free,
to get away, to escape, to flee.
13:51
I see it so clear
By now all hope is gone,
there´s only fear.
14:02
Can´t delay this much longer
It is clear what I have to do.
The feeling´s getting stronger.
14:12
Got out of bed, still no sun.
Decided to kill myself.
Picked up a gun.
14:28
Felt a sudden urge to live on
but it was too fucking late.
Half the head´s fucking gone!
Guðmundur Óli Pálmason Feb 2002
3. Myrksvefn
Flóðgáttir hugans opnast,
sýnir blæða augun lokuð
og raddir heilar geði rata ei inn
þar sem lögmál holdsins takmarkar ekkert.
Andartak óttans frís í eylífðinni
og myrkrið kveður á um dýpt hugans
er hatur sjálfsins á losta holdsins skóp.
Hvar slitnaði sterngur skylnings?
Unaðssemndir eða kvöl?
Annað ástand sama hlutar,
eins og auðnir reiðinnar
og lindir ástarinnar
eru fæða djöfla og ára
dauðdreyminnar sálar.
Þjáningar holdsins
og hatur sjálfsins
eru hugarástand
sem að lostinn skapar.
Ill er blindan í auga sálar,
því að myrkrið er ekki til.
Guðmundur Óli Pálmason June 2001
4. Heavy Metal Bastard Gíslason
5. Scars of self hatred
Cold steel penetrates the flesh
down to the deepest abyss;
a dark cold mind
bleeding the darkest blood.
Seducing demons with the stench of blood,
black blood, hatred of men and god,
for they have no love for me,
nor do they have sorrow.
So I hand myself a knife,
damned to bloody dreams
and morbid sounds
to drown sickly in.
falling, I get much deeper now,
into myself, falling,
dying I was so cold
but now I´m not, I'm not cold enough.
Cold steel penetrates the flesh
it is so sweet compared to you,
sowing the seeds of dawn,
the dawn of darker darkness.
Darker than ever before,
darker than the blood of yore.
So tear my flesh off
and what will be left?
My hatred, my scars,
scars of self hatred.
Guðmundur Óli Pálmason August 1995/Nov 2000
|
|
