...It was not long ago when I had fallen from this mortal world,
Lost in dream flight to pierce the horizon as a bird...

Is this life the pillor I must bear?
To grow in this wretched world?
...With hate each day I burn...
The birds above, they ride the winds
And from each piercing talon dangles a soul

The stone awaits my fall
Upon a grave I dug myself
The birds sing their requiems
Please lend me your wisdom to fly above the heavens,
Across seas of gold, to my land of frostbitten, ageless night

Let me dig my own grave
Let me, oh precious noose of mine
You are my mother, whose womb around my neck
Grants me a world of cold nihility
An endless winter night
A bitter, black frozen hell
For me
Forever!

Is this the pillor I must bear?
To die on this fucking world?
...With hate I die and burn...
The birds above, they caress the winds
They lend me the wisdom to fly...

[Written by J. Haughm ('97)]

2. Foliorum Viridium

[Instrumental]

3. Haunting Birds

[Instrumental]

4. Kneel To The Cross

[Sol Invictus cover]

Give us our bread and bury our dead
And kneel to the cross on the wall
Whether burnt at the stake or drunk at the wake
Just kneel to the cross on the wall
We've original sin, but we might just get in
If we beg to the cross on the wall
It's rattle your neighbours and rattle your sabre
But kneel to that cross on the wall.

See the roof fall, hear the bells crash
As flesh and bone turns to ash
Tried to conquer the sun with a Christian frost
The corpses' stench beneath the cross

Anf give them gold and they'll save your soul
And kneel to the cross on the wall
And hail to the boss of the great unwashed
And kneel to the cross on the wall
They wail and weep, the march of the sheep
As they go to the cross on the wall
And it's ever so wrong to dare to be strong
So kneel to the cross on the wall

See the roof fall, hear the bells crash
As flesh and bone turns to ash
Tried to conquer the sun, with a Christian frost
The corpses' stench beneath the cross.
And it's ever so wrong to dare, to be strong
And it's ever so wrong to dare, to be strong
But summer is a-coming and arise! Arise!
But summer is a-coming and arise! Arise!

5. A Poem By Yeats

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves,
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky,
And all that famous harmony of leaves,
Had blotted out man's image and his cry.

A girl arose that had red mournful lips
And seemed the greatness of the world in tears,
Doomed like Odysseus and the labouring ships
And proud as Priam murdered with his peers;

Arose, and on the instant clamorous eaves,
A climbing moon upon an empty sky,
And all that lamentation of the leaves,
Could but compose man's image and his cry.