The Stone
Kruna praha
1. Smrt za kralja!
huči nešto u daljini
šta se iza brda valja?
ide rulja krezubava –
proglasila smrt za kralja
govnjivom se motkom vode
crnica im temelj biće
misle idu ka slobodi
al’ u dublje jame stiće
tutnji nešto u blizini
šta se iza ugla valja?
ide marva razuzdana
priznala je smrt za kralja
tone talog čovečanstva
vrag je stigo na naplatu
u ropcu, sred kaljuge
sad brat oko vadi bratu
uvire sav život nemo
ka matici gde sve biće jedno
proglasivši smrt za kralja
na dar dobi svako isto
krtom rukom znak svoj stavi
svak’ da ima kraj uzglavlja
zadnjim dahom koprcaju
puni žuči i gorčine
pene usta, glave krive –
popadaše k’o domine
uvire sav život nemo
ka matici gde je sve k’o jedno
dok se kroz daljinu valja
odjek truba ravnodušnog kralja
2. Kruna praha
Opor smrad u vazduhu, dole u jamama vatre tinjaju.
Sve preklano - jama puna, to postaće praha kruna, od leševa punih raka, osta samo kruna praha.
Opor smrad u vazduhu, najgore slutnje ponekad se obistinjuju.
Sve preklano - jama puna, to postaće praha kruna, od leševa punih raka, ostala je kruna praha.
Mole i puze kroz blato i trnje, u vazduhu rezak vonj, momlaju tropare, al' pomoći nema nigde.
Plaču mrtvi za živima, ko da ih trgne iz košmara?
U vrtlogu koji nema dna, grle se zaklan i nedoklan.
Mole i puze kroz blato i trnje, vazduhom se širi opor vonj, mumlaju kondake, al' spasa nigde.
Lebdi pep'o po vazduhu, najgore slutnje uvek se obistinjuju.
3. A Phosphorous Spectre
Ominous aura in the distance, radiant vistas twist and curl.
A menacing presence - a promise of horrors yet to come.
Phosphorous spectre, a blaze like no other... the air is somewhat different.
Pathogen particles make serpentine shapes, phosphorous fumes, dance and evaporate.
Looming, overlapping, with impending certainty, looming, towering, will perdition start from here?
Looming, overshadowing, even the devil would show envy.
Debris... slowly carried by the wind, stench and disease soon followed, with a repugnant taste of sin.
How I've craved to witness the end of days, it arrived with such marvel, set everything ablaze.
Phosphorous spectre - A blaze like no other!
4. Antiutopija
Jebi se Darvine, ne vređaj majmune
Zurim u reku, teku govna i krv
Jebi se Orvele, lažeš, još gore je
Sve mi to smrdi, gore neg’ strv
Žderemo pomije - prste da poližeš
Slika i prilika antiutopije
Dišem na škrge, zarazan, zlo mi je!
Slika i prilika antiutopije
Duh što beše slobodan
Leži sav izranjavan
Vrište rane ljute
Nemoj nožem sine Brute
Duh što beše slobodan
Leži, krklja nedoklan
Grozne li sudbine
Trza, vapi, overi me
Faraon Incitat
U inat... svemu! (a verujmo njemu)
Poziva žive i mrtve na žrtve
Na prinudni rad
Svi marš u krdo!
Svoj kamen uz brdo guraj
Neka se ori
A.M.F. - gradimo Had
5. The Golden Cadaver
A soul profoundly macabre locked in the golden cadaver
Put in a dream as a timeless wreckage
Like a wound that breathes the sordid sighs of sardonic might
Which by night ignites the flames of our end.
Such flames are burnt in an empty hearts of men
Nailed to their coffins and carved to their death
Banished from their flesh (an entity of the dying kind), abandoned from their pain
Such ominous fires burn to sermonize the hate of slain
A soul so deeply macabre, dwelled in the golden cadaver
Put to (the) death as a timeless bane
Like a cry of a blind eye with no tears to soak the flames of the end.
Through the void they seek the eternal bliss of the cadaver
The atrocity, the ferocity of the mourning bell
As the flames arise from the wooden shroud, shape the crimson cloud
From the golden mist comes the Devil’s gist, sets the world to burn, viciously.
Through the void I’ve reached the eternal bliss of the cadaver
As the yellow mist cut my life and twist it to nothingness
While my soul arises from the wooden shroud, shapes the crimson cloud
Putting life behind the golden walls that once were flesh
Cold and pale is the silent vale of the cadavers
There the essence of men comes to an end, proclaiming death.
A soul profoundly macabre unlocked from the golden cadaver
Wherefore the flames arose from the wooden shroud and shaped the crimson cloud
And with the golden mist came the Devil’s gist, set the world to burn.
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