Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Long Defeat, artist - East Of The Wall. Album song Ressentiment, in the genre
Date of issue: 19.07.2010
Record label: Translation Loss
Song language: English
A Long Defeat |
«Scribe quickly your name, and stay to the right. |
Your script is curved |
It’s inclination hooks and spurts as if rushed to the end |
We’ll see… This is only a glimpse. |
Still, you’ve kept your head down |
Where are you hiding? |
And are you weak? |
Are you afraid? |
Did you creep each step aghast, skirting shadows, or is it what I seek?» |
You called to pound the door with pointed hand, but we would burn the house |
We barred the doors with guilt and bone, still we might burn the house |
We would burn this house of ill regard. |
Cathedral eyes were sewn to bind |
You won’t storm the house. |
We would burn the house |
My temple, I’ve mortared lock and key alike. |
All’s buried, naught to find |
What am I now, torn in two? |
The illusion of me becomes and confronts you |
What am I, split in two? |
What’s left of me will retreat from this empty |
knowledge |
We’ll weed out what we don’t know |
I’ve cut my loss and severed a thought from mind |
It plummets like a stone, and glaring back from depths to heights, |
will torch the night. |
Retreat from this empty knowledge. |
Weed out what we |
don’t know |
Retreat from this broken logic |
Lost in what we do not know, we’ll weed out what we don’t know |
The road that lay forward was paved with my fears. |
I tore at the open floor |
I scurried away, and down. |
Call out to the open floor |
Call out to the words that bind us whole. |
Call out from the weighted floor |
Call out to the guards before us all. |
Call out to the way |
The wound was cauterized. |
Burn my way and throw me off to the gate |
Come fire. |
Come flame. |
Come home. |
Burn my way. |
These days were a waste |
Come fire. |
Come flame. |
The weight of a sin’s thick fog. |
Come fire. |
Come flame |
Burn my way. |
And after all these words I couldn’t break away from its hold |
Weed out what we don’t know |
Shadows are fading. |
The burnt walls are crumbling |
The old guard is changing. |
We won’t look down, where we’ve aimed for |
Not before my eyes, but hidden behind my back, and grasped with blood in claw |
My soul possessions are scant. |
Withdraw your hands. |
I’ve set my share alight |
What’s beneath this? |
The husk is wrapped; |
its form flawed |
We’ll pry the fingers back each bone from bone, all ashen, crumbled away |
False. |
The rest is soot and blown off. |
We won’t wait. |
Fall |
What we’ve come digging for is dead and cold |
We couldn’t wait for the beatings |