Septicflesh

Ophidian Wheel tracks

Lyrics


1. The Future Belong To The Brave

Decline is the symptom of the failure to evolve forwards
Change was and will be the most permanent element of experience
deny to go on and you will be left back
Going backwards by remaining stagnant

We watch from our abodes
As hawks we cut the electric skies.
With pride
We keep the order, designing fate
We give access to countless futures...

A time of exodus will come.
The time to break out from the womb
And ships will lower down on Taia
On shining arks then we will go
On lands and stars forgotten...

The origin of riddles, what can restore the lunar wings
Is challenge of the underworld
For challenges to come, we will stand against the tide
Under the banner of the brave

Mission AIOEPIA, the future belongs to the brave
Decline is the symptom of the failure to evolve forwards
Change was and will be the most permanent element of experience

We watch from our abodes
As hawks we cut the electric skies.
With pride
We keep the order, designing fate
We give access to countless futures...

The origin of riddles, what can restore
The lunar wings is challenge of the underworld
For challenges to come, we will stand against the tide
Under the banner of the brave

Mission AIOEPIA, the future belongs to the brave




2. Ophidian Wheel

Where the crossroads meet is the axle
Of the grand wheel
The heart that reverberates my beat.

I wear the talisman of Thot,
The sign of our unity
Because it has a part of the universe
A part of me.

And my love is strong because nothing can divide
Me from the object of my ultimate affection.

The ophidian wheel

When the moon steals the crown from its rival
Night enters day. Bring forth the eclipse
The schism that reconstructs my lucid kingdom.

And all my children by their birth right
Wear porudly my crown, my horns of pwer
And those who sense my circle thoughts are all witnesses




3. Phallic Litanies

Welcome to the joyous carnival of passion
Where the mind surrenders to the animal.

Smell the seductive odor of the naked skin
Bathed in the exotic oils, the potions of desire.

It would be folly to defy the eldest law
For resistance will only supply the fire of lust
With her wooden excuses.

We are here to drink this old wine without remorse
To spill the fluid of Genesis
In abundance because we all know
That as this elixir of life will flow
We will be left exhausted but smiling.

Nails sink into sweaty ground
Marking dionysiac stings
Sparks set from velvet tongues
That bring close soft orange lips

Phallic litanies

Paths lead inside warm nests, that scared shrines of sin
As serpents we crawl beneath
The guises that we all wear.

It would be folly to defy the eldest law
For resistance will only supply the fire of lust
With her wooden excuses.
So it will grow stronger and stronger
Until fatally it will consume the renegades
With the flames of their denied satisfaction

Phallic litanies




4. Razor Blades Of Guilt

Hedonism, power in life without end
Morality and remorse banished
An epitaph of useless beliefs and countless mistakes
Left to the outcasts.
Those who were foudn guilty for self torment

Never admitting so, betrayed by their shiver
While mutilating their happiness
With razor blades of guilt

Their voices rise like an irritating whisper
To the AEONAON fortress
But there is no need for warriors
That can not win their own battles

Razor blades of guilt

No beggars are allowed in, to feast in sympathy
This treasure is kept and shared
With the beloved loyal comrades

Wearing the title of the trinity
Warlord, magician and king
Hands are raised grasping golden cups
In a toast for hedonism.
Power in life without guilt




5. Tartarus

[Solo: Chris]




6. On the Topmost Step Of The Earth

A stranger once whispered:
A fallen angel is someone not aware of his authentic identity
Because the fall occured nowhere except on the inner plains
And the broken wing was nothing but the bleeding memory

The creators of the prophecies
Have seen pages yet unturned
From a book that can not be read
Or expressed from mouths of scorn

Observing the divine marriage
Between the solid soil and the ether
Step on the lightnings and ascend

On the topmost step of the earth
Stepping on the belt that surrounds the sphere

Endless are the joys of the infinite quest
For the timeless explorer
And the child that lurks inside

On the topmost step of the earth
Solo: Chris
Stepping on the belt that surrounds the sphere

A billion toys to play, countless more to invent
In the mental playground, around its solid tree

The creators of the prophecies
Have seen pages yet unturned
From a book that can not be read
Or expressed from mouths of scorn
On the topmost step of the earth

On the topmost step of the earth...
Stepping on the belt that surrounds the sphere




7. Geometry In Static

Behold that a path is created from these traces of ink,
Letters join numbers
Sounds come forth manifesting the plasticity.
This is the direct outcome of the continuous war
The collision of the worlds of change and stability

One would sense the mind behind them
If only he could withdraw from the relentless alterations of its forms

I have swum against rivers of fallacy
Chaotic symmetry,
And have returned
From the point of weakness
To the root of triumph.

Between the circular entrances of spinning dark suns
I travelled with the company of a triangle
To the dark corners of cosmos

Geometry in static

In frozen wells I left my seal for the future travellers
Sunken trilithons bear my signature
In wombs of yellow on the phosphoric remnants
Of organisims with consciousness long erosed

One would sense the mind behind them
If only he could withdraw from the relentless alterations of its forms
[Solo: Sotiris]

Between the circular entrances of spinning dark suns
I travelled with the company of a triangle to the dark corners of cosmos

Geometry in static




8. Shamanic Rite

From inside a cloud with the shape of a grey owl
Scanning down the hill of an indian scared site
I can see a figure with hair white like the snow
The polar crystal breath.

Gyrating around the pyre like a planet in orbit
Around the burning mass of a life giving sun
Following the ways of the ageless
Parallel not our paths can cross
In a shower of meteor storm

As you have sung for me
Now I sing for you
As you have welcomed me
Now I welcome you

The shaman

From inside a cloud with the shape of a grey owl
Scanning down the hill of an indian scared site
I can see a figure with hair white like the snow
The polar crystal breath.

As you have sung for me
Now I sing for you
As you have welcomed me
Now I welcome you

The shaman

Let's take our place as stars in the night sky...




9. Heaven Below

A peacock rests alone in the vitreous valley
With an innocent pose like it does not know
On its featheres ventaglia thousands of eyes
Empty since the end of oracles

Clouds create a hollow pillow
For sleepy heads to rest
By denying to submit to the whims
Of their unstable paterns, I glide above them all

Heaven below

Light as a thought, dropping the weight of milleniums
How far can once reach
The answer depends on who this one is
How far can one extend
As far as his limits go...
[Solo: Chris]

Heaven below





...The wheel is in motion. Futures await to be experienced. With bravery some try to rule them. Others in awe avoid to imagine them.
But behold, an eclipse withholds the sun. Long enough for a schism to appear between the worlds. An opportunity for the tentacled ophidian servants to extend outwards and silence the reverberating invocation of a mesmeric name.
It belonged to none as none could ever claim it but its gift was true, a chain for a chain. At last, now, in lines of genetic fluid, memories can flow in all directions. Celebrating dionysiac mysteries with phallic litanies,
until the impulse towards life is no longer labelled sin. Shileded from guilt and her razored disciples, proud warriors withdraw, exhausted but smiling, into their private quarters, for a momentary rest behind the static walls of the AENAON fortress. Built in a circular mode, it spreads
around the all, absorbing dimension of Tartarus, as the crown around the head of an all demanding monarch. Many are searching for its location. Waiting for ladders made of golden lightnings to be thrown down from passing clouds.
Yet most of them were longing for a final destination
while what they were finding ahead was one more step.
With a each step a different view of the cosmos. Microcosmos and macrocosmos, just different names of infinity, leaving one amazed by the number of directions available. Blessed be the name of geometry, for she embodies order itself,
dividing the comsic map into segments of dark corners so that they cast an invitation to places where creatures of myth dwell. The roads once crossed by magicians and shamans are open as if they had were never been closed.
Leaving heaven below there is a whole night at hand. There is majesty and enchantment the wheel seemingly completes a turn only to be reformed. Once again motion...