Translate Email Print. Master of Disguise 2. Ad Astra 3. The Chaos Path 4. La Masquerade Infernale 5. Alone 6. Throne of Tragedy 7. Painting my Horror 8. Of Nails and No It Aint - Hank Ballard & The Midnighters, The Royals - 1952-1954. Master of Disguise "No! So look for him vainly, He, the incarnation of evil: And by arrangements of magickal nature He The Chaos Path - Arcturus - La Masquerade Infernale unrecognizable even to the experienced eye.
The Chaos Path Await the coming storm. Behold the sign in the sun. Chaos upon us spawn! The arrows of time pinpoints us all. Oh, well the maddening laughter growing louder with the memories.
Atoms like incense rising, like a thousand candles all blown out at once. Fear tangled with despair. This ghastly symphony of malice breaks The Chaos Path - Arcturus - La Masquerade Infernale . The spirit sails out on waters. An intergalactic sea of sorrow. Solemn oblivion with thee. Ways of darkness. The third eye reflects the images of vast reluctant pasts. Ethereal eternity awaits the final act. It crawls toward the altar destinied to collaps. Tragic legend, eerie stratum.
Twisted, this mortal flesh evoked again, with echoes still haunting; The curses chanting. Embrace the outcast state of chaos. After all its unalterable. Beweep this thought, then arise with wisdom, Nowhen I hallow in the gateway of different plains. Open your heart and let go. Oh Vanish. Divine infinity. Ah, this wraith I am. So many aeons ago since. Ah I suffer eternally. The inevitable did unfold. Oh well, a collection of particles held together by the force of a soul and its memory.
Be warned you stand on the edge of infinity; Where coloured waves will lead the way into the void. This ghastly symphony of malice. Oh well the maddening laughter growing louder with memories now. Atoms like incense thing. You are drawn towards the altar destined to collaps. In between the arrows of time I suffer eternally. La Masquerade Infernale [instrumental] 5. From this day forth are the heights of Horeb broken and the sea of sulphur - ice.
And blasphemy! And behold! The great, white throne: black with sacred blood. Our father - Dead by his own hands: an epitaph worthy no king And so ie everything a nameless lie. Who, my god, am I? Man knows me as Lucifer, the serpent of old The wretched hold my banner high. Your gift - all life!
Yet I am not your death Come Sweet Lorraine - Jimmie Noone & Earl Hines - At The Apex Club Volume 1 (1928) forth the crown to your once held throne.
Here is where my suffering should cease - but alas: I am crowned in grief unheard of! In this lone monarchy The Chaos Path - Arcturus - La Masquerade Infernale without friend or foe - I greet the morning sun with strife and a song: Please speak my name! And leave me not in the dust of death I am weighed down beneath the tragedy crown, - nameless and alone, a fatherless son.
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