1. |
Grails
09:12
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Render therefore unto Caesar
The things which are Caesar’s
And unto God the things that are God’s
For our faithless sighs
Lead our eyes high
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2. |
Nadir
04:02
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The ideals of a despairing heart
Remains while I’m alive
My lowborn song, oh faithful child
In you my heart survives
Confide in me
I desperately need feel for why we try
I can’t conceal, or even feel
The hope that turned our hearts from stone to flesh
Yet still I’m dressed
In garbs of faith and toil
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3. |
The Golden Calf
09:01
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The throne is bought
Truth is irrelevant
Wealth justifies itself
The pain we don’t see
Has no value
Progress cold as steel
Enrich us
Gorge, cheat, devour.
Wealth justifies itself
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4. |
Intermission
03:47
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Sounds of all that run through
The grounds outside
All that grows, all that’s wild
Outside
Sit in awe of all the mind can’t pierce
All that grows, all that’s wild
Divine
All of Creation softly sings
Nature is equal to peasants and kings
Prone to wander to cope with strife
Prone to wonder about all life
All that grows, all that’s wild
Divine
All of Creation softly sings
God is equal to peasants and kings
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5. |
Horde
15:06
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The hordes are marching
In blind indifference hoarding
Old truths depart, we all are kings
Gold calf, stone hearts ascending
Save me, we’re drifting
When will we ever learn that money’s only vapor?
The armies are marching
Upon our shores the dying
When will we ever learn that money’s only vapor?
Our thoughts, their blood. We reap, we gorge, they bleed; perversion We are accountable for what we know; we reap, we sow.
These fleeting lucid thoughts of guilt will drown in what we built.
William Booth:
“...there are the daughters of shame; diseased, wronged, ruined. Scrambling down the dark incline to an early grave. There are the children, fighting in the gutter, going hungry to school. Growing up to fill their parents places. Brought it all on themselves, you say? Perhaps so. But that does not excuse our assisting them. You don’t demand a certificate of virtue before you drag some drowning creature out of the water. Nor the assurance in a man of faded grace before you deliver him from the burning building. But what shall we do? Content ourselves by singing a hymn? Offering a prayer? Or giving a little good advice? No! Ten thousand times no! We will forgive them. Feed them! Reclaim them. Employ them! Perhaps we shall fail with many. Quite likely. But our business is to help them all the same.”
We’re all blind children wanting more, wanting all.
We’ve chained our hearts to the cage of our self-confinement.
Gold calf, gold wings
Every coin spent is a vote cast. Pile our hoards and count while our world boils (Save me, we’re drifting)
We all bought golden violins,
yet how they shine not one can sing
Save me, we’re drifting
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Monograf Oslo, Norway
Post-rock band that blends in Norwegian folk music, trying to create something unique and free of clichés. From Oslo, Norway.
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