Enslavement of Beauty
Megalomania
DAINTY DELUSIVE DOLL
Lyrics: Ole Alexander Myrholt / Music: Tony Eugene Tunheim
Already wounded…I wonder if I would dare to be stabbed by the thorns of virtue
Such a sight, petite and illegal…a specimen of beauty in shapeless splendour
Haunted by her image in blank dismay, I kiss and embrace the dreaming adventure
of the dainty, delusive doll…
Seeping into the tunnel of reality…
The savage beast of lust mock-manly rearing its deceitful head
With 666 tattooed upon its bleeding chest
Virtue seems like a sheer waste of flesh, I smoulder like a fucking cigarette
She bestow me the poet's beauty of phrase, oh, I ejaculate…
The vortex of addiction is out of square
There are imaginary catchwords everywhere
The vortex of temptation gently blows
The ego-dolls reap the meadows…
…of megalomania…
Profoundly wounded…I still wonder during my frequent strolls to this rendezvous
Such a sight, so pristine…a specimen of beauty in sheer fucking grace
Haunted by her image, spread eagle on my bed, I need some pills to kill the pain
I need some pills to absorb the impression of the dainty, delusive doll
…seeping into the coma of reality
The savage beast of lust mock-manly rearing its deceitful head
With 666 tattooed upon its bleeding chest
Virtue seems like a sheer waste of flesh, I smoulder like a fucking cigarette
She bestow me the poet's beauty of phrase, oh, I ejaculate…
THE VENIAL BLUR
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt
The promised land of joy leads me quite a chase
shaping the vortex moonshine into another daemon aeon
Caught in a crossfire of lust, a dream of strange ambient fusion
dying in the valley of death,
as in the essence of the Shakespearian Conclusion
As I dream of that night, dazzled by its charm
and as I dream of you nestled here in my arms
It's only when I weep, only when I reach to touch you
it's only when I nourish the (ultimate) paranoid grandeur
it's only when the venereal notion unfolds
I see more devils than vast hell can hold
You breathe in sharply when I bid (you) to join the trance
to wheresoever the (polychrome) devils may dance
the gleaming utopia (suddenly) casting shadows of sadness
and there is beauty in all its madness
When I come down it seems to me, that I am desecration
and touching you seems like a revelation…
LATE NIGHT, RED WINE BLIGHT
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
Craving hands carved in my back
If love was present I'd make it crack
Cynical tripping from here to there
It'll turn out less painful if I don't care
Sweetest dearie
Mother Mary
ramble, rumble
the sanguine stumble
Discipline
disciple queen
smell the pyre
death rate dire
I trance in a cynic snakepit eden
The apple of sin seems so easy to sell
I need no love to define this climax
All I need is pure Hollywood hell…
Love is dead and hate ruins the set
Eve goes down on the fair Juliet
Date rape dogma and hell supreme
I am the artist that paints the extreme…
Rapping simmer
always shimmer
scent the quibble
always nibble
Solve the quiz
with a kiss
kiss the hustle
solve the puzzle
Taste the mire
lust, desire
rape and struggle
finally snuggle…
I trance in a cynic snakepit eden
The apple of sin seems so easy to sell
I need no love to define this climax
All I need is pure Hollywood hell
Solve the quiz with a kiss
kiss the hustle, solve the puzzle…
MALIGNANT MIDWINTER MURDERS
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
The artifice virginal air became the odour of sinful obsession
we subsequently trespassed the boundaries of apt behaviour
A midwinter night's gleam, almost bereaved of sympathy
we drank from all those feeble hearts, we were the masters of deceit
Bohemian soulmates in violent rapture, way beyond the mortal surface
The temptress and Mr Misery, a twosome of unhibited gracedays
we traduced the world with a touch of havoc; fuck everything
She painted the drifting cupid and crowned me; the tranquil king
I recall the glorious days of our malignant midwinter murders
Oh, how benignly malignant we were...
I recall the fragrance of our malignant midwinter murders
Reh rebmemer syawla lliw I…
Bohemian soulmates in violent rapture, way beyond the mortal surface
The temptress and me, a twosome of unhibited gracedays
we traduced the world with a touch of havoc; fuck everything
She painted the drifting cupid and crowned me; the tranquil king
COMME IL FAUT
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
The envious audience is chasing us through the cold slop of reality
exhibited in the dying drama, our design became their wounds
we will never follow their sickening script, never pass them but a fake smile
and every fucking motion is motley, dispelled from morals…
All the little girls have turned into the women that will suck us off…
(Comme il faut…)
Legions of tiara clad virgins are sifting my fairytales,
morbidly possessing my crayons…and it truly fucking hurts
All I ever wanted was everything and then some
all I ever wanted was to love someone
all I ever wanted was the joy they sell
all I ever wanted was a heaven in my hell
Everything I ever wanted was to disappear here
-all I ever wanted was all they ever wanted…
everything I ever wanted was an attempt to care
-all I ever wanted was all they ever wanted…
Everything I ever wanted was a pill to make me gleam
everything I ever wanted was the paramount dream
All I ever wanted was everything…and then some…
All I ever wanted was to love someone…
…the joy they sell…
…a heaven in my hell…
Everything I ever wanted was to disappear…
Everything I ever wanted was an attempt to care…
Everything they ever wanted was a taste of my fluency
everything they ever wanted was a piece of the tragedy
All I ever wanted, all they ever wanted
all I ever wanted, all they ever wanted…
All I ever wanted was everything and then some
all I ever wanted was to love someone
all I ever wanted was the joy they sell
all I ever wanted was a heaven in my hell
Everything I ever wanted was a pill to make me gleam
everything I ever wanted was the paramount dream
All I ever wanted, all they ever wanted
I am the drug they always wanted…
BENIGN BOHEMIAN BRILLIANCE
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
I whirl like wilted petals in blissful reverie affected only by the recession
your sinful(glittering) eyes, gentle with concern, windburn my (quasi)famous expression
a thin strip of white appears at the sky and I cherish the soul's retrieval
'cause even when you tempt my soul it's not enough to make you evil
Even though we have never met you seem eerily familiar
as if I have known you forever...oh, blissful dismay
So many similarities…
I bloom like poison, cling to the earth and maintain my imperceptible glare
sometimes even the devil gets blinded by guilt but I just waive my attempts to care
voyeuristic and whitehot you stare at the expression on my face
my fluency becomes you in a vivacious smile of unearthly grace
Even though we have never met you seem eerily familiar
as if I have known you forever...oh, blissful dismay
So many similarities, bohemians in equal brilliance
soulmates rejoicing in the fall of a vivid summerday
so many similarities, so many hearts left dead in the breeze
so many equal thoughts of glittering cold
so many patterns black of malicious gold
We could enter eden with hellfire love…
Imagesque addiction transformed into the next intervention
worship the pleasures of celebrity, exit reality and dream with me...
So many similarities, bohemians in equal brilliance
soulmates rejoicing in the fall of a vivid summerday
so many similarities, so many hearts left dead in the breeze
so many equal thoughts of glittering cold
so many patterns black of malicious gold
PRUDENCE KEPT HER PURITY
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
Prudence kept the sun from shining bright
prudence kept the animal from revealing in the night
narcissistic raving, nihilistic craving
and she became the torment of my heart
Prudence was the context of distress and complaint
prudence kept her purity when that old moon waned
mischievously gleaming, derelict and dreaming
faithlessness is highly rated art...
Green eyed, deified, envious jewels gleaming
drugfumes, childish tunes, Juliet was dreaming
sinful trifles, improving my discography
rejoicing with the deed that is making me celebrity
Oh, well, obliged to hell, deviltry and sadness
waylaid by chaos, mirthfulness and madness
Feeling, falling, taunting gods creation
oh, so lief yielding fluency to temptation
Prudence was the context of distress and complaint
prudence kept her purity when that old moon waned
mischievously gleaming, derelict and dreaming
faithlessness is highly rated art...
There were few lucid moments in the dead midsummer madness
we withdrew from joy of the ultimate kind to sickening sour sadness
we wasted our dark passion, we wasted our complexion
prudence kept our purity and my art is the grand reflection
Green eyed, deified, envious jewels gleaming
drugfumes, childish tunes, Juliet was dreaming
sinful trifles, improving my discography
rejoicing with the deed that is making me celebrity
Oh, well, obliged to hell, deviltry and sadness
waylaid by chaos, mirthfulness and madness
Feeling, falling, taunting gods creation
oh, so lief yielding fluency to temptation
But if I dream of moonshine, if I taste the (devils) vintage
if I dream of wastelands, if I stroll through deserts
if I behold autumn, if I reach to touch her cold face
I realise our hours draws on apace...
SEVEN DEAD ORCHIDS
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
The vortex of addiction is out of square
there are imaginary catchwords everywhere
The ego-dolls reap the meadows of megalomania
and we crave the spotlight
An ephemeral prostitute in the centre of attention
my deserted space needs another case of intervention
celebrity is my speciality
glamorised in fashion I am the mannequin to be
Oh, sweet seventeen...her unblemished face
clad in the tint of juvenile flesh
seven dead orchids
lay trampled and beguiled
like the lust that died
She sits astride
The pictures my crayons painted
xeroxed and airbrushed to fit
admiration disguised in trivial pursuits
animated to death…
The vortex of addiction is out of square
there are imaginary catchwords everywhere
The ego-dolls reap the meadows of megalomania
and we crave the spotlight…
THE DYING BUDS OF MAY
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
Blister'd be their envious tongues, cut 'em well like a cunt yet to be satisfied
had I only the poison mixed, the sharp vengeance knife, the suicide
whilst dry sorrow drinks our blood, the torture still roars in dismal hell
the mortal paradise of such sweet flesh became the purgatory, (indeed) the (very) hell itself
Cut me out of the tragedy, exhibit me as I wear thy lunacy
can heaven be so envious, as to keep me in absence fro' thee…
Whilst dry sorrow drinks our blood, the torture still roars in dismal hell
the mortal paradise of such sweet flesh became the purgatory, (indeed) the (very) hell itself
I desecrated the disgusting cross upon which the prince of lies apparently died
once upon a November cold when I cunningly committed my suicide…
Everyone was bored with love
-and God was never more distant
Affliction is enamoured of thy lovely parts, and thou art wedded to calamity
luciferous serpentine, hid with a flowering face, appearing everywhere
I was infected with thy poison, my tongue profoundly possessed by affirmatives
all slain, all dead, the tragedy was woe enough, if it had only ended there
Exhilarated to death in bondage unison, filling the soulvoid with hate
love laid in exhile's chains, so what the hell is there to celebrate…
Faretheewell, faretheewell…one kiss and I'll descend into the blooming pits of hell
The darling deeds of autumn
the dying buds of May
Cupid painted dour with lust
raining energy as we decay…
FIFTEEN MINUTES
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
I am Mephisto in a sanctified guise attired in robes of silk and fur
I was the will o' the wisp of devilish fashion, the glamorous aura of adventure
All the kisses you have ever missed
Wheresoever you may desire to be kissed
We'll kiss and cuddle, we'll fuck and cling
I'll be your decadent plaything
And I only want to be the only one they want…
Oh, their sweetmeat revelation
I'm flying on the wings of my desire
I'm floating on the sea of your lust
Strung out from the burning need to get higher
beating hearts in an unison of angel dust
I am the hunger of your chaste vulva, beware, your wishes may backfire
I am the traitorous wretch, I inflame satisfaction, celebrity and desire
All the kisses you have ever missed
Wheresoever you may desire to be kissed
We'll kiss and cuddle, we'll fuck and cling
I'll be your decadent plaything
And I only want to be the only one they want…
Oh, their sweetmeat revelation
I'm flying on the wings of my desire
I'm floating on the sea of your lust
Strung out from the burning need to get higher
beating hearts in an unison of angel dust
15 minutes was all I needed to break free
15 fucking minutes of you and me
15 minutes to leave hell behind
15 fucking minutes to ease my mind
Love is such a great coincidence, lust paces on like a fucking machine
tearing me in a million directions, thrilling me softly in between
YE THAT TEMPTETH, YE THAT BEQUETH
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / T. E. Tunheim
Imagine the starry eyed audience chasing us through (the cold slop of) reality
exhibited as mannequins (in a menage a trois), our design would be their wounds
we would never follow the script, never pass them but a fake smile
and every movement would be motley, dispelled from morals
And in the sky there would never be any trace of angels
the virginal air would be vaguely transparent
yet it would always be somewhat bright
the wind would carry us
(through enormous roars of enthusiastic applause)
ye would herald the age of immorality, vividly,
ye would bequeth me the most precious jewellery
ye seem like such lovely girls, in a most sinful limbo of dreams;
we should be an oblique part of the opaque scene...
And in the sky there would never be any trace of angels
the virginal air would be vaguely transparent
yet it would always be somewhat bright
the wind would carry us
(through enormous roars of enthusiastic applause)
C17-H19-NO3-H2O
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
I beweep my foolish prudence, I beweep thy sick reluctancy
chaos disguised as nought, accusing acquaintance of sodomy
Sometimes I just stare blankly for hours wondering how it could have been
interrupted only by the blur of sight from the tears I shed in between
C17-H19-NO3-H2O...
I crawl my way through morphine days
anodyne at least, in opiating grace
I knew it was killing me
but the apple seemed so sweet
and I still, sometimes, dream of thee…
I am the tranquil king, I mirror cupid in all these phrases
there's a sadness in our eyes, dancing stars and trancing faces
I am the faithless mainstream of poker puss mannequins to be
these days everybody smiles and all the cameras are circling me
In forvid energy...I still extol thy image to the sky (and beyond).
Thou art petite, thou art pristine...
(and) my superlatives are not just words
The humid energy (of passion) granted us the wings of hell
we are drifting aimlessly (on) our way to somewhere
C17-H19-NO3-H2O...
I crawl my way through morphine days
anodyne at least, in opiating grace
I knew it was killing me
but the apple seemed so sweet
and I still, sometimes, dream of thee…
I waive my attempts to smile, I waive my attempts to care
tinged with bizarre implicit violence I mimic the expression they expect me to bear
I am the pretty, pretty sex machine, when we come is when we die
deceit is a pill for us to share, leaving an all time high...
TANGLED IN GRAND AFFECTION
Lyrics: O. A. Myrholt / Music: T. E. Tunheim
Winter and autumn drove hand in hand
dazzled by the light of a perplexed moon
all tangled in bohemian supremacy
and the tingly ambience of a deceitful noon
...tangled in grand affection
Autumn's cold hand craving in a tight and comforting response
while their bizarre passionate music tore fainthearted souls apart
the narrow minded seasons did violently collide
when they beheld autumn hellishly situated on winter astride
...tangled in grand affection
There were few lucid moments in the subsequent madness
both winter and autumn withdrew from joy to abided sadness
wasting their dark passion and wasting their complexion
reluctancy turned to nonchalance
and this denouement is the grand reflection
Daunting the timidity of shallow waters,
the hands of the beast wrote some touching rhymes
sadly they drifted apart like trees denued of leaves,
and thus the dialogue was dead by springtime
Lyrics in plain text format
