De letztn Tåg hom mi donn doch a weng vaändert
Und a Teil vo mir is zruck bliem auf de kargen weiten Föder
I hob jo oiwai glaubt, I wuad do moi zum sterbn herkuma
Owa stott dessen woan dia bodenlosen Schluchtn am End vo dera G‘schicht
Da Ort meina Geburt
Vasteckt, hintam Fluss wiad es Lånd si weitn
De Wödt wird vergeh, söbst de Stürme schweign
I hob mi oafoch blind und taub g‘stödt, an Åbschied hods nia gem
Das I jemois wieda hoamkehrn muas woa mir in jene Stund no länga ned bewusst
Es san koide Tog de uns no erwoatn, se treiben uns iangwonn wieda hoam
Wei a oi de schwerelosn Stundn san doch Trugbüd mehr ois Wirklichkeit
Und so sand de vaschrobenen G’schichtn, de sie es Lebn üwa de Joare zommen g’reimt
Boid a koan Groschn mehr wert im schüttern Liacht unserer letzten Tåge
Lång lebe da Tod
Da Regn, er riacht do iangwia onders, onders ois dahoam
Vielleicht a ned, owa zumindest kumbts ma a so vua
Und a de Foarbn san nohezua ungetrübt und unvadorbn
Ois wuad I olles kloara seng ois in oi de Joare zuvua
Åhnungslos und frei vo Missgunst wernd ma in des Leben g’stoßn
Und verlieren uns oft schmerzlich in nur oi zu großa Hoffnung
Stoipan durch a verrohte Wödt, sähn nua Wind owa erntn in Sturm
Verbrennan uns ständig d‘ Händ im Feia, owa scheitern so zumindest mit Stil
Es san koide Tog de uns no erwoatn, se treiben uns iangwonn wieda hoam
Wei a oi de schwerelosn Stundn san doch Trugbüd mehr ois Wirklichkeit
Und so san de vaschrobenen G’schichten, de sie es Leben üwa d‘ Joahre zommen g’reimt
Boid a koan Groschn mehr wert im schüttern Liacht unserer letzten Tåge
Lång lebe da Tod
Engish:
PETRICHOR
The last days somehow really changed me
And a part of me remains behind on these barren and bright fields
I always thought I’d come to die here some day
But instead, these bottomless chasms became the place of my birth
Hidden behind the river the land will widen
The world will vanish, even the storms will calm
I acted deaf and blind, there has never been a goodbye
Back in those days I wasn’t aware that I will have to return home one day
We’re expecting cold days, they’re urging us back home every time
Because also these weightless hours are more delusion than reality
And so are all these quirky stories life conjectured over the years
No groats worth in the thin light of our final days…
…long live death…
…long live death…
The rain here smells strange and different, unlike the rain home
Maybe I delude myself, but I’m pretty sure
Also, the colors, nearly undimmed and pristine
As if I could see everything with clear glimpse, in contrast to all the years before
Clueless and free from grudge, we are thrown into this world
And lose ourselves painfully in big hopes
Stumble through a brutalized world, seed wind, but harvest storms
Burn constantly our hands in the fire, but fail this life so at least with style
We’re expecting cold days, they’re urging us back home every time
Cause also these weightless hours, are more delusion than reality
And so are all these quirky stories life conjectured over the years
No groats worth in the thin light of our final days…
…long live death…
…long live death…
The subtle melancholic atmosphere created by M.S. and J.J. is some of the best atmospheric story telling i have ever heard in music and there is a reason this album is my favorite. Shores of Eternity
The excellent French metal band Epectase return with another brain-bender, offering an almost proggy take on black metal fury. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 21, 2022
Austrian one-man project atmospheric post-black metal album Lebensnehmer follows the success of "Todbringer", adding here a bit more mournful and melancholic touch. Deep, immersive experience with amazing melodies and guitar work! sachavonkarl74
