Moonphase
Field of Poppies

Lista de faixas

• 1. I Obsess (03:33)
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  I am the raven at your window,
  Looking in with a broken wing.
  My feathers, tattered and torn,
  I open my mouth but cannot sing.
  
  Silhouetted behind the curtain,
  Your elegant shape drew me near.
  Standing in beauty, in a dress,
  Is a woman over which I obsess.
  
  I'm a .45 caliber pistol,
  Loaded with sin.
  Serial number's scratched off -
  Who the hell knows where I've been.
  
  I looked down at the time,
  But just saw my naked wrist.
  I can't get back the life we lost,
  And the love and pleasure I miss.
  
  I am the cloud that obscures the sun,
  I am the wind that blows open your door,
  I am the force that makes the rivers run,
  And I will cherish you forevermore.
  
  The roses I brought for you lay
  On the ground, wilted from the rain.
  The wind sings a solemn dirge -
  You never even knew my name.
  
  I didn't come here to die.
  I want to know if I'm really alive.
  Time ceased to persist forever ago.
  Look into the abyss and fucking dive.
• 2. Anhedonia (05:43)
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  All my colors have faded away.
  I'm the first dead tree on an early autumn day.
  There's no fresh water in the lake of meaning.
  There's dissidence between truth and outward seeming.
  
  I struggle to find reason for persistence,
  My mind sorely preoccupied with somber reminiscence.
  I'm afraid of the day that I end my search;
  I'm afraid of the day I may reverse my birth.
  
  Beneath the grand welkin above,
  among the determined crashing waves,
  watched by that pale joyless eye alone,
  I sit upon a cold and weary stone.
  
  From the night,
  I watch a figure approach,
  a hazy silhouette.
  Is it your ghost?
  
  I'm drifting, drowning
  in the rising tide,
  Lend me your hand -
  please be my guide.
  
  My consciousness dissolves
  in the wavering mist.
  My place is here no longer,
  this lost soul ceased to exist.
  
  Unearthly phantom -
  leave this realm.
  Submit to the ethereal void
  and escape from frightful hell.
  
  Unearthly phantom -
  Your place is not here.
  Embrace the dreary fog
  that quickly draws near.
  
  A wandering albatross
  no longer takes flight.
  A warm and bright day
  turns into night.
  
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  
  A grey feather
  downward spiraling.
  Drifting away.
  A fragment of a life.
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  Is this how things were meant to be?
  Is this how things were meant to be?
• 3. Field of Poppies (06:54)
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  Dust floating in a sunbeam
  And hanging in the air.
  Crack the window to free the smoke
  Or go blind from the shining glare.
  
  Remember when you met me?
  I remember when you left me.
  You passed away
  lying in a field of poppies.
  
  Shall our souls yet mingle?
  Or did yours fade away
  like evaporating rain
  on some midsummer day?
  
  Did you hear me? When I asked why?
  Did I even get through at all?
  Because I still need an answer.
  Why did you have to die?
  
  A dying songbird sang
  as the telephone rang.
  I thought I heard you call my name
  in that late springtime rain.
  
  You called my name so sweetly.
  Perhaps you knew the way I felt.
  With that needle in your arm,
  you pierced my heart where my soul dwelled.
  
  On the night when your mother died,
  I couldn't imagine someone not alive.
  "Don't worry," you said,
  "she's in heaven, up above the skies."
  
  Where's that? I wondered.
  I'd like to see her soon.
  She's right there, among the stars,
  you said as you pointed to the moon.
  
  Now I lay here, in the tall grass,
  and I look to that round heaven.
  Are you looking? Can you see me?
  Give me a sign that you hear my questions.
  
  But it's nonsense, I know now.
  I'm alone, and you're long gone.
  My love for you is one-sided
  and you'll never hear this song.
  
  As time passes and pages turn,
  and old tapes begin to decay,
  my memories of you remain
  until my skin too goes grey.
• 4. Abyss Diver (07:05)
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  The night descends like sand
  Seeping through a forgotten tomb.
  There's nothing but darkness before me
  Bleeding into the earth's womb.
  
  Sweet warmth amidst bitter cold;
  a pair of welcoming arms.
  Endless pool of nothingness;
  Misunderstanding faces alarmed.
  
  Tempting fate. Abyss diver.
  Calming embrace. Abyss diver.
  
  Place your judgement elsewhere;
  I wish not to endure a torturous life.
  Your existence is one of gentle peace;
  mine is one of wartime strife.
  
  Taking the plunge into the abyss -
  My last attempt to maintain control.
  To murder every man at once
  And erase everything from my world.
  
  Take the plunge. Abyss diver.
  Destroy everything. Abyss diver.
  
  Erase all life.
  
  What's the meaning of it all?
  Hours spend toiling,
  fingers worn to the bone.
  Rotten things start spoiling.
  
  Vultures circle me now.
  Shatter the hourglass.
  End all time.
  Misery comes to pass.
• 5. Memories from a Dream (05:03)
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  Silhouette of barren trees
  Against a crimson sky
  Induces unto me
  Thoughts not often pondered.
  
  Consciousness is not
  Exactly as it seems,
  Living amongst these
  Memories from a dream.
  
  In this moment,
  I am nothing.
  The trees are infinite;
  The feeble moon glows.
  
  Everything is in its rightful place;
  There's no limit to nature's prose.
  
  I am no longer a conscious being.
  I am merely a spectator to this scene—
  A still camera, to record an image,
  To illustrate a single memory from a dream.
  
  Fog of serenity,
  Resting above
  Murky waters,
  Beckons me
  Over into
  Its ghostly mist.
  
  But I am frozen,
  Paralyzed by sleep.
  Instead, I watch it
  Creep towards me,
  And I feel it
  Overtake my being.
  
  I am one with
  The air around me;
  Tree roots grow
  Within my body.
  
  Quickly
  Vanishing
  From that plane
  Of existence.
  
  Covered in
  The shrouds that
  Conceal dark
  Mysteries.
• 6. Antietam (05:40)
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  The smell of rotting death
  And a thick, putrid fog
  Fill this murderous air
  With an enveloping aura of despair -
  And also victory.
  
  Somewhere among these corpses,
  And the blood-stained grass,
  Lies triumph and honor.
  We demonstrated today
  The strength of Northern will.
  
  Let the rebel bodies rot.
  
  Behold this fearful wasteland:
  On both sides, our brothers lie,
  Dead amidst a day so serene.
  Scavenging eagles fly.
  
  A suffering, legless soldier
  Squirms about in the mud.
  The Antietam Creek flows peacefully,
  Running red with Union blood.
  
  A tangle of arms and legs,
  Mangled faces and missing heads -
  This is the price we've come to pay
  For a nation divided, in disarray.
  
  Cannons silent; the smoke clears.
  The ground is wet with a mother's tears.
  Her sons lay dead amongst enemy and kin,
  In this field where hope runs thin.
  
  Echoes of cries pierce the night.
  Whispers tell tales of relentless fight.
  In these fields, where sorrow sows,
  Seeds of a fractured future grow.
• 7. Art Gallery (05:05)
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  Step right in
  To this gallery of art,
  Featuring the works of one
  J. Lockhart.
  
  Don't mind the mess;
  It's part of the show -
  Even the razor blades
  And the shotgun ammo.
  
  Did you gasp?
  Is your heart filled with dread?
  Behold the brilliance
  Of the thoughts in his head.
  
  No brush strokes here,
  No palette's blend -
  Just the raw remnants
  Of a life's bitter end.
  
  In this gallery
  Of despair and strife,
  Art meets death, depicting
  The fragility of life.
  
  A scene so brutal,
  Yet eerily serene;
  A juxtaposition
  That is rarely seen.
  
  Shards of glass
  And rotting meat,
  Water-damaged wood
  Under your feet.
  
  A dull knife glistens
  Like stars in the gloom -
  A silent witness
  To this sorrowful room.
  
  Abstract expressionism
  On the wall;
  A hastily written note
  In the middle of the hall.
  
  A grisly exhibit,
  A haunting display -
  Life's ephemerality
  And its decay.
  
  Who was this man?
  Why was he here?
  Nobody knows;
  Nobody cares.
  
  He lived as a ghost
  Before he died;
  Existence unknown
  Despite his cries.
  
  All around him,
  In chaotic grace,
  Silence speaks
  In every space.
  
  His body remains
  For all to see -
  His gift to the world,
  He left behind an
  
  Art gallery.
• 8. Psychosis (06:38)
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  In the depths of the unconsciousness,
  Darkness unfolds.
  Cryptic voices gather 'round, screaming,
  And seize control.
  
  In this cold, dismal, lonely room,
  Where winter thrives,
  Past lives linger - spectral echoes,
  Whispering lies.
  
  Psychosis, the mind's demise;
  Twisted shadows and haunting cries.
  Paranoia's grip, a dull knife,
  Carving epitaphs and draining life.
  
  Psychosis, demons whisper lies;
  Shattered glass in haunted eyes.
  Darkness calls, the chasm deep -
  Endless woe; lost souls weep.
  
  The dusty, warped blades of a ceiling fan
  Slice the air.
  Underneath, in the lonely dark, sits a man
  Without a care.
  
  The chilling winds of repressed sorrow
  Sweep through his mind;
  A litany of poor decisions binding,
  His soul confined.
  
  Psychosis, the mind's demise;
  Twisted shadows and haunting cries.
  Paranoia's grip, a dull knife,
  Carving epitaphs and draining life.
  
  Psychosis, demons whisper lies;
  Shattered glass in haunted eyes.
  Darkness calls, the chasm deep -
  Endless woe; lost souls weep.
  
  Crushed by societal pressing stones,
  Waiting for death.
  Under the weight of expectation,
  Gasping for breath.
  
  Unblinking eyes pierce through the wall,
  Unmedicated.
  A man's body and his soul drift apart,
  Separated.
  
  Psychosis, the mind's demise;
  Twisted shadows and haunting cries.
  Paranoia's grip, a dull knife,
  Carving epitaphs and draining life.
  
  Psychosis, demons whisper lies;
  Shattered glass in haunted eyes.
  Darkness calls, the chasm deep -
  Endless woe; lost souls weep.
  
  Chains of madness wrap tight around,
  Choking every breath.
  Humanity lies beaten and bleeding,
  Close to death.
  
  His soul drifts somewhere in that empty space
  Between the stars,
  Floating in the void amongst scraps of sanity,
  Cold and bizarre.
  
  Psychosis, the mind's demise;
  Twisted shadows and haunting cries.
  Paranoia's grip, a dull knife,
  Carving epitaphs and draining life.
  
  Psychosis, demons whisper lies;
  Shattered glass in haunted eyes.
  Darkness calls, the chasm deep -
  Endless woe; lost souls weep.
  
  He sits in a haze of smoke, face obscured underneath the shadow of Venetian blinds. A silent film devoid of color without a happy ending. Cigarette ashes crumble on the lapel of his jacket. Liquid amber spilled on the desk drips to the floor. Blank expression. Blank mind. Four surrounding walls without a door. A skeleton submerged in a vat of acid slowly vanishing from this world.
  
  Shadowed silhouettes grasp and strangle a man who doesn't put up a fight. A rose wilts on a table's edge. Windows, forever closed, frame a foggy and dismal world. Neon lights flicker outside. Promises broken. Dreams denied. Old photographs burn to ash. Muted voices from the past whisper secrets that echo and fade away.
  
  No exit. There's no escape.
Duração: 45:41