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1. |
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Ominous forest of trees,
follow the fireflies.
Swallow your fear and greet her,
the girl with the haunted eyes.
Black is the all-forbidding,
gold-shining heart inside.
Follow the sound that leads you to
the girl with the haunted eyes.
She's a dream,
a light on the window sill.
She's a dream:
incantations of old, you see,
speak deeper to those, you see,
who hear the voices in the cold, you see.
The girl with the haunted eyes.
Wise are the trunks that watch you,
guarding their ghostly prize.
Cut through to all that beckons you:
the girl with the haunted eyes.
Maples and oaks invite you,
cool to a traveller's sighs.
Run to all that awaits you:
the girl with the haunted eyes.
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2. |
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I was sent a sheet of paper,
just a regular sheet of paper.
They told me it was important data
and I should go to the iron mountain.
In the halls of the iron mountain,
I heard the sounds of stacking and counting.
All alone in the iron mountain
with my regular sheet of paper.
I found my way to the desk receiver;
spoke in languages foreign and clever.
I explained the best that I could then:
I didn't understand iron mountain.
I was sent to the Hall of Paper,
floor to ceiling just regular paper.
So many bodies stacking and counting
deep in the heart of iron mountain.
All the secrets of civilization,
all of the everyday facts and figures,
all of the regular sheets of paper,
deep in the heart of iron mountain.
I came upon a janitor working,
told me the way to happiness lasting,
told me the future of those who linger
is a lifelong cleaning up paper.
I escaped to the daylight sun,
looked around at the land around.
High to the clouds in every direction,
thousands of rising iron mountains.
I was sent a sheet of paper,
now I'm lost in the iron mountain.
Thousands of rising iron mountains.
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3. |
I Love You When It Rains
03:20
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Gnashing of teeth, digging of claws,
monster among us, come to reclaim.
Swinging the axe, strikes the pain.
Still, simply said, and that's all I mean,
I love you when it rains.
Over the worst, still comes in waves.
Back out – you can't. Wait for the end.
Enter the dragons, ready the flames.
Still, simply said, and that's all I mean,
I love you when it rains.
And the raindrops fall, and we record them all,
and the grey sky keeps us near enough
to the concrete pillars. This glass bus shelter,
that old graffiti – good enough for now.
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4. |
Atomic Power Recharged
05:47
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We condemn atomic power,
voices joining every hour.
Generating volts from wind
and the sun – they are our friends.
Switching to enviro-power.
So cold in the Dead Zone
as Elena rides her motorbike back home.
Not a sound in the Ghost Town,
as Chernobyl waits nine hundred years or more.
The Little Boy and the Fat Man
find two hundred thousand victims on their hands.
Bad luck from Prometheus;
Hiroshima, Nagasaki never planned.
Old reactors left here for your children;
science raises golden rods and cylinders.
Radiation worldwide is mounting.
Stop the earthly plight of cancer-causing light.
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5. |
Warmest Of Water
05:06
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She at the chain link, dressed in the cheese cloth.
She at the blood's edge, the warmest of water.
She at the central microprocessor – she beckons.
She at the limit of human resistance.
Lined in the lining of her black leather bodice,
the phrase which calls one from the back of the cortex.
The punishments ensue for the curious and lazy:
the terrifying clutch of electrifying beauty.
With a sinister walk, countless bodies march on;
the martial insistence of voyeur cacophony.
We all walk to the cave with widening eyes.
We all walk in our handcuffs and simmering boot drives.
She at the supper of apparent submission.
She at the blood's edge with everyone watching.
She at the target of data retrieval.
She on the precipice of an imaginary climax.
They come in droves to the edge of the water,
naked and made up and puffed up with creosote.
Pushing and grunting like forgotten cattle,
dancing along in the warmest of water.
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6. |
Paris In Magenta Light
05:31
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The strange magenta lights spread – first Paris.
Global shutdown, telecommunication over.
Resonance – satellite crash down.
Scrambling up ancient buildings to the
top of the steeple, see gargoyles, survey:
see everything bathed in magenta light.
First Paris.
Figures, frozen, street corners – first Paris,
then the rest of the world.
First on Paris, then city by city, each city.
A vast mass of people assembles confused;
strange magenta light!
In a mass of people, confusion:
no one knows what's going on.
No signal, telecommunications at zero,
satellites crash down into ocean.
City bathed in such resonance
as satellites rain from the skies.
Phosfluorescent – first Paris.
Magenta light –
strange emanation,
frequency,
collapse.
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Dead Red Velvet Toronto, Ontario
Dark electronic, industrial, gothic rock, cabaret noir: Karl Mohr’s flagship project injects mystery and high-octane thrills.
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It's hard to decide on my favourite track, they are all great. The whole atmosphere of the album is one of late summer and oppressive heat, with people slowly roaming dusty streets or hanging out in sparse shadow, old cars with plastic charms bleached out by the sun dangling from rear mirrors, motels with box air conditioners louder than they are effective...
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