The Breathing Mast

from Many Fine Dragons by Fyrce Muons

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lyrics

THE BREATHING MAST

High up a wall in the cavern, our hero observes the preparations of the rabble rebellion. Perhaps this whole mess is too big for him. His rise seems to have been too easy. From the shadows our villain appears, and all becomes murky.

M

Is there no grey time after not recognizing the face in the mirror?
And before realizing it becomes you
Is it like our light, which cruelly brings us from night to day
Not for me, I live in this age of no age, this man of no man
And even now I cling to both of these faces
I want to know when it can stop
I want to know when we are content

THE ORACLE

Thy question bothers me my son
Blistered words shall anon divulge thy answer
Thee should leave and come into mine own service
Or visage the scalps of thy genetic damnation

THE RABBLE

Race the roast and beat the fire
Build desire

M

Great dance a sign of fool
That chance to find a fool
And now you mind a fool
Great dance you find

THE QUORUM

Look thou inside
You’ll soon feel the truth
Heart of the beast
For shekels your curse


M

Great dance a sign of fool
This soul is mine a fool
This was my time a fool
Great dance divine

Go you charlatan, you servant of the Lords
Pray your time is not too short to seek your absolution

ORACLE

Trained to be the innocent
Take thy sword and cut them down
Grown to be my supplicant
Use my voice to feed the crime

M

Great dance a sign of fool
That chance to find a fool
And now you mind a fool
Great dance you find

THE ORACLE

Free thou art not anon, nor ever hast been
Thy life is like a game to me
And all thy dreams of fame and grace hast come from me into thy empty place
And brick by brick I built thee so
To rule in land of spider’s hole

M

Be gone with your riddles and lies old man
Save them for the ones who pray and take as truth the tales you spin
Of life beyond this tortured way
To steal their joy is debtor’s pay
To save their souls another day
You don’t belong in deeper crypts wasting time with broken bones
And nostalgia suits you like a parasite

THE ORACLE

Ah that it were so my son
Thou art just a little cur
Thou seest anon I have no choice
Set by fate the time has come
Thy mother was my concubine and thee surely are my son

M

Deceipt has been your trade and lot
My mother stood against the lords and sacrificed her earthly light for those who live below

THE ORACLE

Your mother was a leopard skinned whore, no better than the bile of a money merchant
She gave unto me what I needed with a life I could use
I forced her to bear thee and guide you to your angry throne
I know each minute of thy life
Thy empty friends, thy greatest loss, thy deepest fears
And within thy dying heart thee knowest the truth that comes to end your dreams

M

No viler creature I have met than you, where even life begins in greed
Now be gone and take your fetid creatures
I will hasten the end of you

THE ORACLE

Goodbye my son
For if you carry out your sacred plan
Its you that feels the cold death’s hand

credits

from Many Fine Dragons, released February 6, 2017

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Fyrce Muons San Diego, California

Forty five years of gothic space punk and electro pop reminiscent of Krautrock. Fyrce Muons continue to defy any musical genre with their provocative concept albums, improvisational and surrealistic spoken word.

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