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Solefald - The Linear Scaffold cover art
Band
Albumpreview 

The Linear Scaffold

(1997)
TypeStudio Full-length
GenresAvant-garde Black Metal
LabelsAvantgarde Music
Album rating :  90.2 / 100
Votes :  19
Lyrics > S > Solefald Lyrics (8) >

The Linear Scaffold Lyrics

(8)
Submitted by level Eagles
1. Jernlov (3:52)
Flykt fremmede
For du er ikke innhyllet
I jernlovens take

Dyrk
Ikke ditt

Men deres

For du er den som
Enna kan

Vi er kilden

Vi ander
Den jernlov som fodtes
I oss

Og
Med oss
2. Philosophical Revolt (5:49)
Luna plina - lift your veil of silver
Red wine rebellion - drown yourself in vain
Control and strength - cultivating sense
Regressive dreams - living in the past
Atmosfear - emptiness inside
Disintegration - scatered sence of life

Realised impermanence - the sunrise of the human mind
Realised perfection - artwork out of body
Realised corruption - artwork out of mind
Remaining permanence - the sunset of the human mind

Confucios, Lao - Tse,
Socrates, Plato,
Schopenhauer, Nietzche,
Sartre & Beauvoir

Defend the name of nobility itself
The art of intellectual reflection
My mistress of mental desire
- Not bound to rules nor form

- philosophy -
3. Red View (5:24)
burn the edges of your thoughts
feel the air beneath
burn the edges of your thoughts
feel the air beneath

witness the cosmic dance from a red view

burn the edges of your thoughts
devastating fire
burn the edges of your thoughts
devastating fire

pieces of a paradise never created
floating on the tide of the human mind
washing the shores of the microcosmos
guiding hordes of men
towards the sick and the blind

red view

ascend, descend - the order of chaos
stay safe in the eye of the renaissance tornado

see the universe unite and yourself become its key,
and a sense of correlation your opportunity
4. Floating Magenta (1:46)
Floating magenta in circles
Over slippery, white surfaces

Reversed vitality
And the laughter of a metallic light

The world is familiar
But it never seemed this real...
5. The Macho Vehicle (5:04)
sex from backyards - porches
out - into chambers - arenas
parliaments of men
broadcasted boys

we fell off the macho vehicle
as batons from the scientific rev
lost their bastille in paris 68

paternity dyed red
world pornography fall

no floor for the colossus
no divine divan
- on words to rest -

no more soil
sown with peasant lies
burden carried by
one
6. Countryside Bohemians (5:37)
The train left westwards on a Saturday sunrise

We rode along the linear scaffold
To a fertile sidetrack
Not yet been tamed
By urban architecture
Unknown in a rural village
Tresspassing silent roads
Deserted bu television natives
Rows of rusty tracktors left behind
To keep the sunset company
We strived the valley sides
Reached the bright blue castle
It appeared in defiant solitude
Spreading scraps of paint
Out on the October sky surface
From inside a giant panorama
Our conversation evolved
To women and witches and sex
We ate the saucy beaf
And dark rumanian red
Before nightfall dragged us into its coat
To watch to circular star belt
Wrapping us tightly together
In the pale flame of the parafin lamp
A blue rope lowered onto glowing necks
We entered the circle of branches spread out
Like countryside bohemians
Reeking of whiskey and wool
The knife cut from grey to red
A brotherhood of blood
Dripping down on the heather
And into the soil
We were mystics balancing
On the plunge of knowledge
Ready to fall in ecstasy
Of retire smart stupidity
After a one-night stand
With anima mundi
7. Tequila Sunrise (4:21)
når parasollen åpner seg I sjelelsk
glimrer det langs spilene
og verden blir kjønn

du er vanntårnet på på bordet

jeg danser på kanten av glasset
og lengter mot regn og frodige skoger
glir med et rykk og finner ut mellom isbitene
at lykken er en utpult bigamist
monogam med lidenskapen som eneste elskerinne

du kommer fra solavlede dyner
og er fuktig med leppene nede
søvn med sirupssøte mothaker

jeg drar meg opp på cocktailpinnen
huler ut en isbit med tungen
smeltevann på duken

solnedgangen rødmer når pinnen bikker

med sugerøret I munnen
setter jeg tennene I cisternen
tømmer den for vannkyss

VI går ut av baren sammen
og farer videre

kanelstrødde boulevarder

kremfylte slott
8. When the Moon Is on the Wave (7:25)
the poem was written by
the noble lord Byron (1788 - 1824).

when the moon is on the wave,
and the glow-worm in the grass,
and the meteor on the grave,
and the wisp on the morass
when the falling stars are shooting,
and the answer'd owls are hooting,
and the silent leaves are still
in the shadow of the hill,
shall my soul be upon thine,
with a power and with a sign.

though thy slumber may be deep,
yet thy spirit shall not sleep;
there are shades which will not vanish,
there are thoughts thou canst not banish,
by a power to thee unknown,
thou canst never be alone;
thou art wrapt as with a shroud,
thou art gather'd in a cloud;
and for ever shalt thou dwell
in the spirit of this spell.

though thou seest me not pass by,
thou shalt feel me with thine eye
as a thing that, though unseen,
must be near thee, and hath been;
and when in that secret dread
thou hast turn'd around thy head,
thou shalt marvel I am not
as thy shadow on the spot,
and the power which thou dost feel
shall be what thou dost feel
shall be what thou must conceal.

and a magic voice and verse
hath baptized thee with a curse;
and a spirit of the air
hath begirt thee with a snare;
in the wind there is a voice
shall forbid thee to rejoice;
and to thee shall night deny
all the quiet of her sky;
and the day shall have a sun,
which shall make thee wish it done.

from thy false tears I did distil
an essence which hath strength to kill;
from thy own heart I then did wring
the black blood in its blackest spring;
from thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
for there it coil'd as in a brake;
from thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
for there it coil'd as in a brake;
from thy own lip I drew the the charm
which gave all these their chiefest harm;
in proving every poison known,
I found the strongest was thine own.

by thy cold breast and serpent smile,
by thy unfathom'd gulfs of guile,
by that most seeming virtuos eye,
by thy shut soul's hypocrisy;
by the perfection of thine art
which pass'd for human thine own heart;
by thy delight in others' pain,
and by thy brotherhood of cain,
I call upon thee! and compel
thyself to be thy proper hell!

and on thy head I pour the vial
which doth devote this trial;
nor to slumber, nor to die,
shall be in thy destiny;
though thy death shall still seem near
to thy wish, but as a fear;
lo! the spell now works around thee,
and the clankless chain hath bound thee;
o'er thy heart and brain together
hath the word been pass'd - now wither!
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