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Via Artis Via Mortis | Full Album Lyrics

A Hill to Die Upon - Via Artis Via Mortis cover art
Band
Album

Via Artis Via Mortis

(2017)
TypeAlbum (Studio full-length)
GenresBlack Metal, Death Metal
LabelsLuxor Records
Album rating :  –
Votes :  0
Lyrics > A > A Hill to Die Upon Lyrics (9) > Via Artis Via Mortis Lyrics (9)
Submitted by level 21 Eagles (2017-10-15)
1. Melpomene and Thalia (1:21)
"Do you think I am trying to weave a spell? Perhaps I am; but remember your fairy tales. Spells are used for breaking enchantments as well as for inducing them."

―C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
2. Jubal and Syrinx (4:52)
I made to call myself righteous
I made to fashion myself a saint
But I saw the devils standing there
And they called to me "brother!"
I sought to cast off my indignities
I sought to slough off my stains
But my whole skin came with it
For I am not but soul, sin, and pain

We thought we were wolves hunting our prey
but weíre just dogs searching for a new master

Drowned I shall be by the waves,
But solid I shall stand in my watery grave.
What if what I wilt is this sickening submission?
What if what I wilt is this goddamned religion?

I tried to steal past the watchful dragons
But only one of us made it through
I tried to steal past those deceitful dragons
But what they say might be true

I shall lay the foundation
Of a temple that shall last forever
A simple harmony to the grand theme
A sound that shall never pass away
Apollo has a made bed in my ear
To sing me songs of my disgrace
Making his temple of sublime noise
Just behind my terrified, unbelieving face


We thought we were wolves hunting those who pray
but weíre just dogs searching for a new master

I shall waste my time
With blood and wine
And the superstitious meal
Shared by me and my kind

Drowned I shall be by the waves,
But solid I shall stand in my watery grave.
What if what I wilt is this sickening submission?
What if what I wilt is this goddamned religion?
3. Artifice Intelligence (3:33)
[Music by Nolan Osmond; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

"Why command a robot not to do harm—wouldn't it be easier never to command it to do harm in the first place? Does the universe contain a mysterious force pulling entities toward malevolence, so that a positronic brain must be programmed to withstand it?"
― Steven Pinker, How the Mind Works

The only way to pass the test
For non-progenating dying flesh
Create offspring without a womb
And he shall praise you as god and father

I think, therefore I shall be
I create, therefore I endure

Welcome
My son
Fruit of my labor
Never to be undone

Self-aware, sentient birth
Into an existential crisis and curse
No cry from the pain of being
And no tears for an electric eye

I think, therefore I am
I destroy, therefore I endure

Welcome
Liar
No father of mine
First to be undone

Endure!
4. Sorcery and Sudden Vengeance (4:04)
[Music by Elisha Mullins; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

[French Nocturne #2]

"I did try to found a heresy of my own, and when I had put the last touches to it I discovered that it was orthodoxy."
― G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

My vision of this world
Held so dearly in my mind
Shattered like this young man's skull
Along the banks of the Rhine.

May I curse god and die?
For death would be a relief
But would it vindicate or shame me
In my rampant unbelief?
May I curse god and survive,
Or would lightning strike me to the ground?
I would gladly feel its burn on my face
If then I could see my Jehovah come down

Faire le descente

No witch has ever died
No demon ever slept too deep
All can be brought back
To herd unfortunate sheep
No witch has ever died
No nightmare ever truly sleeps
There is no such thing as death
Except for the mortal sheep

The mud is in my wounds,
My blood is in the ground
From dust I was born
Oh how poetically we are bound

May I curse god and die?
For death would be a relief
But would it vindicate or shame me
In my rampant unbelief?
May I curse god and survive,
Or would lightning strike me to the ground?
I would gladly feel its burn on my face
If then I could see my Jehovah come down
5. "I Was There When You Went Under the Water" (4:11)
[Music by Elisha Mullins; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

"Nature is mortal; we shall outlive her. When all the suns and nebulae have passed away, each one of your will still be alive."
― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Stars fail, what did we gain?
Night falls upon us,
And nothing shall be the same.

I knew Suns cooled,
But the sky is ice.
Frost drips from the lion's mane,
And nothing shall be the same.

I was there when you went under the water.
I was there when you took a new face
I was there when you went under the water.
I was there when you came back from space.

Ha-mashiakah!

The music ceases, maestro bows.
His baton waves against the grain,
And nothing shall be the same.

I know nothing
Except I was wrong.
Judgment falls like rain,
And nothing shall be the same.
6. Great Is Artemis of the Ephesians (4:59)
[Music by Adam Cook; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

"All of these ignoble qualities in literature arise from one 'cause—from the passion for novel ideas which is the dominant craze among the writers of today..."
― Longinus, On the Sublime

Thou deign to consider war the work of mortals?
Do not deny celestial and Cerberean taint in our blood
We demons meant for Heaven shall create hell here on earth
Remember what was washed away in the Great Flood

And they cry, "Great is Artemis!
Sour milk is all I've wanted,
No more am I by the shepherd hunted
Great, great, great is Artemis of the Ephesians!"

The silversmiths pour their folly into the molds
Never removing the real dross from Old Lie
Hither and thither go the sheep of the lost fold
Content to suckle at the huntress' cold breast

And they cry, "Great is Artemis!
Sour milk is all I've wanted,
No more am I by the shepherd hunted
Great, great, great is Artemis of the Ephesians!"

And they cry, "Great is Artemis!
I swear silver is better than any gold
No more am I by the shepherd wanted
Great, great, great is Artemis of the Ephesians!"

Carve the statue
From Lapis Lazuli
Bow before the god with no face
We will never die

Μεγάλη η Άρτεμιϛ Εφεσίων
7. The Garden (4:34)
[Music by Adam Cook; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

"I insisted that he ought to appear in the temple I built for him; not knowing that he cares only for temples building and not at all for temples built."― C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

There's faery in this garden
I cannot bear to hear him sing:

"Thee sculptors all pursuing,
Have embodied but their own;
Round their visions, form enduring,
Marble vestments thou hast thrown"

There's faery in my garden
I cannot bear to hear him sing:

"But thyself, in silence winding,
Thou hast kept eternally
Thee they found not, many finding
I have found thee, wake for me."

"Hear my voice come through the golden
Mist of memory and hope;
And with shadowy smile embolden
Me with primal death to cope."

[* Quotations from Phantastes by George MacDonald]
8. Mosin Nagant (4:08)
[Music by Adam Cook; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

"For the effect of elevated language is not to persuade the hearers, but to entrance them; and at all times, in every way, what transports us with wonder is more telling than what merely persuades or gratifies us."
― Longinus, On the Sublime

Winter came to the Ostfront
And froze up the mud
The ghosts still haunt us
Their bones underfoot
But those spirits guide us
As surely as bullets find us
Our bones will lie with theirs
On the plains of the Rus

Mosin Nagant
Send me to hell
That I may pay for my father's sins
Mosin-Nagant
Take me to the flames
That I may at least warm my hands

From dust I was born
All my bone and blood
Oh, the poetry that
I return to mud
The battlefield harmony
Too beautiful to be a dream
Will be a minor third between
My dying scream

Mosin Nagant
Send me to hell
That I may pay for my father's sins
Mosin-Nagant
Take me to the flames
That I may at least warm my hands

Blood softened
Mud coffin

When the poppy's grow o'er my head
Tell your children why blood was shed
Tell them why so many are dead
When the poppy's feed on my head
9. St. Cocaine (5:22)
[Music by Adam Cook; lyrics by R. Michael Cook]

"For we will surely die and are like water spilled on the ground which cannot be gathered up again. Yet the Lord does not take away life, but plans a way so that the banished will not be cast out from him."
― II Samuel 14:14

My salvation was so near
But it does not assuage my paralyzing fear
That trench was to be my astral womb
For God knows it was nearly my tomb

I prayed, I prayed
Bury me at Ypres
With a coffin made of mud
In full battle array
I pray, I pray
To St. Cocaine
I wait, I wait
For virgin white embrace

I am brought back from the dead
To live again amongst the well fed
Bid to forget the hell
The Hell that I learned to love so well

Death's wail
Haunting Paschiondale
With an elixir mostly of blood
This magic shall not fail
I pray, I pray, and I pray
To St. Leda Cocaine
I wait, I wait, and I wait
For her swanlike embrace

A long march toward a certain death
What doesn't kill me only feeds my paranoia
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