2006.11.31.Cradle Of FilthPetőfi Csarnokwww.petoficsarnok.hu
2006.12.01MIGHTY MONICsepel; Pagoda
1. Jotun[Strömblad, Gelotte]I often dream of huge numb buildingsjet-black sinister architecturebeing installed when nobody seesTheir appearance so suddenthat few would take noticeAnd when I wake upI imagine being crushed by oneimagining it's weight it's silenceand the absence of excuses for a havoced lifeand the priviledge of a 22-kilometer tombstoneJotunA body of blackthat carried no reflectiondefying it's own roomun-earthly eggs of decreationThere would be coloniesmushroom-scattered forever out of contextrising spores from a dying worldto pollute to chase away what's leftSun-white pulverised desert stoneand serpentine lizard mouthsPales away the pyramidsrewriting 4500 years of historyraping the statue of libertyoutplays the acropolisinverting the fjordsinvades the N.Y. skyline todream it's own existence in one single final wordJotunCan we identify themas the flint buried in our reptile skullsor the time-bomb coded in our dna2. Food For The Gods[Ljungström, Gelotte, Strömblad]Shame marries the guiltintroduces itself to theconcept of total lonelinessSensations repressedmake friends withSuicidia andhere the leeches begin tosuck away the lust for lifeThusEscape takes leadinto a world unknown uncontrolled by allwhere border are erased and potential infiniteChosen cells glands and transmittorsblast the body with joyAstral feet runningup to dimension covered with goldstairs of glowing ectoplasmasafir onyx and buzzing vibrationsA dead man banquetfood for the godsThere's only 1 real worldour earth is but a shadowCreated from a child's heart a living jewelfrom now on abode for a soul in its settingNowsutting the bloodlinere-tie the bleeding rootsto a heavenly ship of glassand let it drift in passive arrogancein a one-word dialogue with the stars3. Gyroscope[Strombläd]Geology is digging throughmy braina manta engulfing the worldto throw it up once againto a guild of a lifted daggerNeo-wolf but older againthan the Lupus itselflinked its fur to the gyroscope of timea collection of failuresA diabolical sequences of stabswritten in cunning stonefrom the fossilised of thievesour lives diesI see the nursing all-motherspitting out a trail of termitesin the mouth of her first-born hopebreast ripe with smog-filled rebellionApathy dressed in violencewhite insectoid legscurse her lips and mouthreceptive only to pain4. The Hive[Gelotte, Strömblad]April night-tymeAnd we run like muscles through the stagnant nodes of manBlood-bridges lean towards the gaping synapsesto disarms the stars within usHornet Hive-darkSevered wings in vainless beatingbuzz out from inferno of fangsto disarms the stars within usWe should have beenso much more by nowToo dead insideto even know the guiltWaning Ring-deepa halo of thornsSips now down in the sheets of sharp silverto disarm the star within us5. Dialogue With The Stars[Gelotte, Strömblad][Instrumental]6. Jester Script Transfigured[Strömblad]Cre-age-aeonnew beginning held in infinite vacuumBiotronic test-world free of inscriptiondevoid of the echoes of mannoble savage cyborgIn the cold ceremonial perfectionmore radiant than the sum of sunswith each and every attributeof animal machine and manDystopia ElectroHeartthe grotesque and the lineartook one final giant blowinto the Ram ofwhat is usInstalling awaiting the restoration of unsequenced chaosWe've only seen the outlines of the begginingand this core the slowly moving raptorwill make the very notion of Hellseem celestial in comparison7. Morphing Into Primal[Gelotte, Ljungström, Fridén, Strömblad]DetonationFireworks and alchemyGenes spliced and triggeredinto the futureand her organic caveSeismorgasmic omnipotencescenes of magma in my eyesEruption stones my systemI owe this to the animal insideand the stiffness that blocks out the daylightMorphing into primalI'll cover every particlefrom there to Andromedanot forgetting a single locationfrom the throat of Ibisto the co-ordinate of MatterhornMy shot is genesis and catharsisPenetratonaut in a cosmology of lustSuck this subterrenean creature outand show it proudly to the house of heavenWith one slight wave of my handstar dissolvesDissolve my brainBlock my lungsI'll die from fever tomorrowwhen locked in sych a perfected "now"8. Worlds Within The Margin[Ljungström, Strömblad]Raindrop hits the leaf changing it's position slightly on the streetnext to polls of monotonous waters He walks Slipping feet fromsteps at random He fallsIn the space of between his body and the groundcomets cast off their names stellar neurones misfireWitnessesinhale the seedand spit out a million branchesBuds abloom in all directionsfrin which events occurrelations and virused meetingscatch fire and explodeIn the margin of butterfly wingsentire cycles of evolutionoutplayed and fadedsparked away and leaned back intovacuum-filled nirvanaBetween the two of my eyesfeverish fractal scarDance like were they on drugspeyote labyrinth re-mapped exitsA hasty blinkand a million life-to-comeswill never be the sameas they never wereIn the kinetic energy of a moving fistlies a birth-machine for a parallel universeWith the first movement in organic scapcame a bouquet of alternative answersall different multiplied and re-dividedCoded in the spinal cord of a trilobitewritten between the legs on the Meganeurasuburban city maps and dormant dictator semenmarked their way through time9. Episode 666[Strömblad]Welcome here, the squirrel-wheel beginsfasten the left hand beltsRemember not to think too muchand your trip will be numbingly pleasantNon-caring is the easiest waybut to secure a passage to the 2nd planeyou have to complete level oneTheir dead-smile lips turn on their TVwhile urban gravestones scrape the skiesRising over marionette cities and marionette skiesThis is episode 666destination chaosEach and all an actor blind10. Everything Counts[Martin Lee Gore - Original by Depeche Mode]The handshakeSeals a contractFrom the contractThere's no turning backThe turning pointOf a careerIn Korea being insincereThe holidayWas fun packedThe contract:Still intactThe grabbing handsGrab all they canAll for themselvesAfter allIt's a competitive worldEverything counts in large amountsThe graphOn the wallTells the storyOf it allPicture it nowSee just howThe lies and deceit gained a little more powerConfidence taken inBy a sun tanAnd a grinThe grabbing handsGrab all they canAll for themselvesAfter allIt's a competitive worldEverything counts in large amountsThe grabbing handsGrab all they canEverything counts in large amounts11. Whoracle[Strömblad][Instrumental]