Pentru o vreme apăsătoare, o muzică apăsătoare. Reminiscent of Poe şi a lui Lenore. Merită cu prisosinţă ascultaţi. Închipuiţi-vă doar că eu i-am descoperit prin ’93-’94, într-un decor sumbru: două săptămâni petrecute la munte în apropierea unui castel uitat în paragină. Ce bine sunau piesele de pe Turn Loose The Swans pe coridoarele înalte şi lungi, cu pereţi scorojiţi, în turnurile de lemn putred şi-n beciurile jilave, luminate doar de flacăra lumânării. Brrr.
Sear Me MCMXCIII
Pour yourself into me, our time approaches so near, that I sigh./ What danger in such an adorer?/ We dance and the music dies./ We carry them all away, as we glide through their lost eyes./ You lift me above myself, with the ghostly lake of your mind./ Arise from your slumber in my arms./ Your beauty took the strength from me./ In the meadows of heaven, we run through the stars./ Romantic in our tastes./ We are without excuse./ We burn in our lust./ We die in our eyes and drown in our arms.
The Cry of Mankind
You can’t expect to see him and survive/ You’ll swallow his tongue of thorns/ His mouth, dripping with flies/In his glorious kingdom of fire/ But I believe he wept/ I will make them all lie down/ Down where hope lies dying/ With lust, you’re kicking mankind to death/ We live and die without hope/You tramp us down in a river of death/ As I stand here now, my heart is black/ I don’t want to die a lonely man/ This is a weary hour/ This is a weary hour
Thy every look and every grace/ so charm whenever I view thee,/ ‘til death overtake me in the chase/ still will my hopes pursue thee/ Then when my tedious hours have past,/ be this my last blessing given/ low at thy feet to breathe my last/ and die in sight of heaven.