The Spirit of the Wine

Tracks:

1. Our Names
2. Treasure
3. The Pleasures of Poverty
4. The Wound
5. The Stranded Siren
6. Appearance Is Not Truthful
7. Z
8. Guilty
9. The Path of Excess
10. Lotus Bloom
11. The Spiritual Shelter
12. Boiling Blood
13. Graves of Salt
14. Blessed 2
15. Blessed
16. The Cupboard

1. Our Names

How strangely desire presses,
how distant our agreement shows up today,
so many miles away, it seems so hard to reach,
how I used to love that glance.

Even slitting my reverie from the top to bottom
I always have my eyes wide open.
I'm silently proposing a toast to hold out.

And we don't even know our names,
we don't ignore our excesses,
but your mere presence
makes me sick and empty.
With a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you.

And every day asks its night
what it would do in the former disguise.
Nodding without having understood
that those hands were besieging me.
Tell me: Would you like to draw a winged house?
Dawning, some hazy winks.
Turning over fearing to look back.

And we don't even know our names,
we don't ignore our excesses,
but your mere presence makes me sick
and empty.
With a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you

When I realize
how one can be emptied.
And with a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you.

2. Treasure

Height turns me smaller
and I can't help it.
My thoughts get stuck,
piled up in my treasure, and there they wait for me.

Yesterday I coloured
my dreams in blood,
and there is nothing sacred
I can enjoy any more.

I will get that smile if I can pay for it,
it will be one of my favourite ones.
Gathered in my treasure, and there they wait for me.

Yesterday I coloured
my dreams in blood,
and there is nothing sacred
I can enjoy any more.

3. The Pleasures of Poverty

Ancient nations of holy lineage
and their forgotten truths,
the diamond card against the palm leaf.
I trembled through the radio.
And they pay for the grass supply
with their own curiosity.
Masturbation of questions just to hear
a whisper of a silver wire.

We crawl unconsciously along the desert
towards the caverns,
blinded by the voice of inexperience,
the pilgrim steps will guide me.

The town was already dead before it was born,
a runaway thoroughbred.
How I hate lukewarm people
when they say there's no alternative.

We crawl unconsciously along the desert
towards the caverns,
blinded by the voice of inexperience,
the pilgrim steps will guide me.

There's no other heaven on earth
that dares to face assents and denials,
leaving punishments and chains
on the opposite side of reason.

And the pleasures of poverty have beaten
my derided revolution.
The pleasures of poverty have beaten
my deceived revolution.

We crawl unconsciously along the desert
towards the caverns,
blinded by the voice of inexperience,
the pilgrim steps will guide me.

There's no other heaven on earth
that dares to face assents and denials,
leaving punishments and chains
on the opposite side of reason.

4. The Wound

It's always the same performance,
the same spectator,
the same theatre,
where he used to play so often.
And losing my mind
in such a real game
could have been a mistake.
Will you please cure my wound?

What's left between two friends
when after all
they seem to be lost
and they prefer some others?
What do stupid hands give
ignoring what has been given,
if they were shaken long ago
and now they are deceived?
What made them move away
from their "restless shore"
thinking of those days
for hardly a moment?

It's always the same performance,
the same spectator,
the same theatre,
where he used to play so often.
And losing my mind
in such a real game
could have been a mistake.
Will you please heal my wound?

I have always preferred
a long slow kiss,
even if I know it's lying,
even if I know it's false.
What the hell happens
when glances don't come across each other?
The cockfight, bets can be made.
Who has been looking for shelter
in any other place?
Does real cold
come with one's age?

It's always the same performance,
the same spectator,
the same theatre,
where he used to play so often.
And losing my mind
in such a real game
could have been a mistake.
Will you please cure my wound?

5. The Stranded Siren

I have always got entangled on seaweeds,
a tangle of them against my fingers.
You close the tangle
with the annoyance of destiny,
and the others are the ones who bite:
Bloody gums, criminal glances,
at first sight it could be you.

Dropping anchor to port,
the ring at the top
and meanwhile at the bottom,
your heart bleeding.
And the beggar is always next to you,
your fellow traveller.
When the stars will fade away,
sooner or later you will come back, too.

Sleep a bit longer,
your eyelids can't bear it any more.
And then disappointment comes
when the north wind doesn't seem to forgive.
Siren, go back to sea,
you're stranded by reality.
Suffering from hallucinations
when heaven doesn't seem to hear.

Dedicating a dream to you.
Closing my eyes and feeling
the vast darkness,
devoted to a gleam,
like a maze of insecurity.
And you try to get away from your nightmare
and fly over your weariness,
and then you're back on earth again.

Our fear to go beyond the limits
of names, like a stranger,
shapes the spiral of defeat
and darkens so many flatteries.
Sun, in the memory that fades away ...

And sleep a bit longer.
your eyelids can't bear it any more.
Then disappointment comes
when the north wind doesn't seem to forgive.
Siren, go back to sea,
you're stranded by reality.
Going through hallucinations
when heaven doesn't seem to hear.

6. Appearance Is Not Truthful

Besieged, between your future and my wall.
wondering at every single sentence.
You know, you have never been in that song,
but you gave in so sweetly ...

And I hear you say:
"Give me as many roses as thorns I pricked myself on,
I can hardly understand your jokes, why are you so cruel?
Give me as many roses as thorns I pricked myself on,
you blow up so easily, what evil is possessing you?"

Your needles are softly nipping my skin,
draining little by little all my veins.
You know, there has never been a worse drug,
but I didn't listen to you that time either ...

And once again he screamed:
"Give me as many roses as thorns I pricked myself on,
I can hardly understand your jokes, why are you so cruel?
Give me as many roses as thorns I pricked myself on,
you blow up so easily, what evil is possessing you?"

You could think the worst,
that appearance is not truthful, no, it isn't.
All my sleepless nights,
are they supposed to be bitter punishment?

I could lose control
in a deceitful look, couldn't I?
I have spent sleepless nights,
do I deserve to have my heart burning?

7. Z

Instrumental

8. Guilty

Silent like a shadow
there are no forbidden experiences
at the council halls
where bloodsuckers live.

And my old wound is still open,,
it is so slow to heal up,
are you, my nightmare, staying
close to me at nightfall?

Going beyond what is allowed
by the streams that run over your body.
You will give up your habits and submissions,
keeping your troubles to yourself.

Will my lustful glands
find me guilty?
If I gave in to you
but I didn't want to stay ...

Strange mental tricks
over gorges and cliffs
spreading out
the most putrid ochre.

Going beyond what is allowed
by the streams that run over your body.
You will give up your habits and submissions,
keeping your troubles to yourself.

And stupid words
have turned me deaf
and I will deny
what I learnt at school.

And my old wound is still open,
it is so slow to heal up,
are you, my nightmare, staying
close to me at nightfall?

Going beyond what is allowed
by the streams that run over your body.
You will give up your habits and submissions,
keeping your troubles to yourself.

9. The Path of Excess

A tempest of words from one tavern to another,
ordinary choir, sing your plan for me.
The blood is splashing, it's getting crazy.
If there is no paradise, where will you die like a dog?

That's true:
Path of excess, source of knowledge.
Poison is always stifled by a dish of contempt.
As long as there is enough money and determination,
little by little, you will have some years left,

If you are ready to face the scene,
it doesn't belong to William Blake,
are you ready to gobble up the stars
and calm your thirst with them?

Listen:
I can hardly tune a few melodies for losers.
Heaven has spoilt my last breath.
All my enemies were left behind
and I am still uncertain about a better future.

If you are ready to face the scene,
it doesn't belong to William Blake.
Are you ready to gobble up the stars
and calm your thirst with them?

The path of excess ...
The path of excess ...
The path of excess ...
Say!: The path of excess ...

We are burning the spirit of wine
with bad tricks
and it won't come back, no,
it won't come back.

10. Lotus Bloom

Never has a farewell been so brief.
I had never thought it definite.
I had never ever loved anyone so much.
I had never called a stranger my family.
I had never believed in my own philosophy.
I had never had any guru or guide.
I had never refused any lost cause.
I will never deny that these are my favourite ones.

This is my lotus bloom
and I used to be its shadow.
This is my lotus bloom,
my world won't clear up,
So much wandering and nothing has been kept,
nothing at all.

A flame never keeps burning on and on,
I have never been able to put up with its heat,
never, never for more than one day,
I could never stand to be an invaded soul,
until I saw in front of me the one I could die for.

This is my lotus bloom
and I used to be its shadow.
This is my lotus bloom,
my world won't clear up,
So much wandering and nothing has been kept,
nothing at all.

Will you rectify
the lines of my hands?
Who will spread out
the coffee sediment?
And what did the crystal ball say
when it started to roll?
What else could I need?
Have I got anything to lose?
I can't lose.

Lotus bloom,
lotus bloom,
it's so easy to look for (so hard to find),
it's so easy to look for (so hard to find).

11. The Spiritual Shelter

Instrumental

12. Boiling Blood

Heaven is tumbling down,
it's collapsing over you.
Hide your world away,
so that nobody will see it.

Close the doors and wait,
your time has come,
and I doubt if anybody could deserve
such a second.

Does it hurt when I put my finger in the wound?
Look at the emptiness from this corner.
Die alone, nobody will teach you how.

Close the doors and wait,
your time has come,
and I doubt if anybody could deserve
such a second.

Bubbles of boiling blood
are falling inside you.
Deafness has been my nourishment.
Bubbles of boiling blood
are falling inside you.
Let anyone shout to the wind:
"You can count on me!
You can count on me!"

Fear the noise of laughter,
I can't find what is stuck in your throat.
Spit it out now, bloody hell!

Close the doors and wait,
your time has come,
and I doubt if anybody could deserve
such a second.

Bubbles of boiling blood
are falling inside you.
Deafness has been my nourishment.
Bubbles of boiling blood
are falling inside you.
Let anyone shout to the wind:
"You can count on me!
You can count on me!"

Anyone who doesn't keep a secret
isn't trustworthy.
Hide your world away,
so that nobody will know about it.

13. Graves of Salt

Psychoactive beverages do not pump enough
nor can aggressive dances show your best side.
Who knows whether it's better that way?
Leave the place abandoned to fate and doom,
leave it!
If feline claws try hard not to let you sleep at all
and you don't feel attracted by lavatories,
who knows whether it's better that way?

Condemn half truths to exile,
condemn them!
The west is frightened ...
"it could be a sort of shaman magic".
We have already heard such foolish thoughts
between the golden oceans and graves of salt.

If you can't believe in written words
this has been a useless way to guide us.
Who knows whether it's better to give up?

Look at the conditions in which we have been forsaken,
look at them!
The west is frightened ...
"it could be a sort of shaman magic".
We have already heard such foolish thoughts
between the golden oceans and graves of salt.

14. Blessed 2

During your absence, the walls
will be covered with sadness,
And I will imprison my heart
between your bones.

15. Blessed

If the first glance is the one that counts,
- this is what mothers always teach -
I will recover my mind,
towards a common grave, all of us stabbed by questions.

Bitter is the taste of lazy nights.
Today will be the day that I will start my return.
My memory is bothering me,
my senses are disturbing me and they are wrong.

In the waters of certainty,
we made the promise of Porkara Lakes:
"And the perfume that comes from sex
will melt in a new scream."

I have never trusted in very thin lips,
I always get away from them like a fugitive.
And you calm down the swell
that breaks against my veins, you purify the air.

In the waters of certainty,
we made the promise of Porkara Lakes:
"And the perfume that comes from sex
will melt in a new scream."

From the hot coals of a constellation,
to the transient world,
blessed was the cause of my fortune.
And from the land lost in my childhood
to the transient world,
blessed was the cause of my fortune.

Something they didn't allow me,
and that now I'm seeking within your bones.
Something from so far away,
I thought was not,
I thought was not my style.

When you will leave your dream you will
realize you're dead,
and worms are always hungry.
The east doesn't believe in sarcasm
that used to rule us long ago,
I am a tame lion.

16. The Cupboard

Cloud that I had to swallow up.
you're blinded today by your swollen eyelids.
I would fog the hours
exhausted and starving.

Pour your neck over the ice,
let your lips get wet,
fill your mouth with bitter liquor.
Let your throat burn.

Dice game at the warehouse,
deep stares are pushing ahead.
Sincerity, the winner's enemy,
widens the past and the future.