Hieronymus Bosch
Album • 2005
Why it seems so inviting? The world of genuine values Prominent talents and genius "Creative power", it's so mighty... Hypothetical sin that fills you Like salt fills the sores You're not worth a curse There's no easy way in No opened doors You'll never fit in There's no entrance for you You have nothing to do Brain drain binding you to... Make an inroad To use the decline And "Yours is mine" That is your mode Oh, it's so sad You ain't able to create Oh, it's so fun But nothing could be done You'll never escape There's no exit for you You have nothing to do Ties of despair Binding you to... Binding you to... Be an eloquent person To follow your guiding force Misunderstanding the meaning Of words There's no easy way out No opened doors You'll never fit in There's no entrance for you You have nothing to do Brain drain binding you to... Make an inroad To use the decline And "Yours is mine" That is your mode You'll never fit in There's no entrance for you You have nothing to do Brain drain binding you to... Make an inroad To use the decline And "Yours is mine" That is your mode
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025
It seems like delusion Haunting me every day There is mysterious fusion Inside me... Mind astray! Oh, I feel like pack of cards I was made of few Contradictory parts First part says: "Let your convictions rot!" Second part says: "Do not!" Someone says: "Ignore the truth" Someone says: "Listen to your muse" Sick and tired of eternal confrontation Don't want hear anymore useless conversations I'm just a third half Of myself Starting study My own body Falling to pieces By kicks and kisses I have no power I'm hero and I'm coward Multiplicity, the gallery of faces On the run all the days, from sixes to aces My ingenuity And imagination Take priority Over reputation My second part Dislikes this way Misgivings keep Running through my veins... First half screams Brings me to the boil Gathering and Storing up the spoils Second half sings Rights all the wrongs And I can hear These graceful songs First part says: "Let your convictions rot!" Second part says: "Do not!" Someone says: "Ignore the truth" Someone says: "Listen to your muse"
Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025
This track is instrumental.
Reject point-blank So now we got some peace In damaged structures Of the conscious maze Inaccessible hyperrealism Teaches to play These primitive games An innerworld presence What a pleasant scene Waiting for the wisdom from above External sign Of internal discipline Waiting for mercy and even love Futile season The reason is in the prison It's a primitive captivity Futile season The reason is the prison Escape from primitivity Inopportune criticism and witticism Gets off the point Sophisticated primitive art forms And life coil is out of joint Adequate evaluation of sane views Animosity Artistic cobweb strives to confuse We're lost in the style diversity Futile season The reason is in the prison It's a primitive captivity Futile season The reason is the prison Escape from primitivity
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025
Walking through the streets plexus The air smells like plethoric fantasies Esplanades are littered with debris Streets are filled with eclectic melodies Looking forward, moving straight ahead Old diary pages in hand Moving silent through the city of mind That shows its dirty seamy side There is something stronger than him... The only thing that keeps him going Is the fact that he could stop someday Turn these hateful streets to ruins Now he sees his only way Keeping the silence, thinking aloud Multiform thoughts like furious crowd No changes in distant perspective To destroy all around it is only objective Poet is in the gripe of the pages Dancers are trapped in the rib cages Broken strings sound like desperate cries And city stares into his tired eyes... There is something stronger than him... There is something stronger than him... The only thing that keeps him going Is the fact that he could stop someday Turn these hateful streets to ruins Now he sees his only way
Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025
I have secretly dreamt of wearing my skin With nothing underneath To be consciousless and soulfired To have no useless doubt and fear inside Playing carefully, living in safety Building the fortress of new personality Fulfilling the selfish fantasy So beautifully Look at me, gaze into the unknown My facial gesture is carved in stone And helpless world doesn't even dare To turn away from my cold stare Blind window eyes on the face Toothless mouth of opened gates Rain tears on the walls-cheeks Cynical notions look like pile of bricks I move my mind in million directions At the same time Like multi-headed beast I can control the west When I look to the east My blind window eye Is searching low and searching high Watching the every move Of all the passers-by Blind windows stare... Blind windows stare... Blind windows stare... Blind windows stare...
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025
This track is instrumental.
How can you call yourself a genius? Your confidence provokes my doubt You turn my notions all inside out Misleading pun... So miscellaneous... Jeer... The logic knot defies solution The masterpiece that you ignore... Lampoon... From academic and classical to folklore World art in material sphere From positive image to its primitive forms "Creative grotesque" It's so weird for you and too late to revise The outdated views... Looking through a prism of practical criticism Your position is just a fake, last attempt to not make mistake Looking through a prism of practical criticism Your position is just a fake, better way to make mistake Prejudiced critic, not so brave Refuses to notice somebody else's success A free artist or "mental labor slave"? Vicious criticism and moral regress... Jeer... The logic knot defies solution The masterpiece that you ignore... Lampoon... From academic and classical to folklore World art in material sphere From positive image to its primitive forms "Creative grotesque" It's so weird for you and too late to revise The outdated views... Looking through a prism of practical criticism Your position is just a fake, last attempt to not make mistake Looking through a prism of practical criticism Your position is just a fake, better way to make mistake Activity, constructive unrest Global design, inspiration is evil jest Absolutely zero is everything you wrote You have no poison, but you have antidote
Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025
This track is instrumental.
Anatomical landscape, atomized Unstable in shape, human body sized Heart sends impulse from your tectonic depths Playing yourself false You forced to hold your breath Heartbeat seismology Rhythmic unison of six billion hearts Ant-hill psychology World wreckers From house of cards Sow the systolic seeds Synchronize the thoughts and deeds Oscillation frequency, crust break Awake the bodyquake Heartbeat seismology Rhythmic unison of six billion hearts Ant-hill psychology World wreckers From house of cards Heartbeat seismology Rhythmic unison of six billion hearts Ant-hill psychology World wreckers From house of cards
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025
← Go back to Hieronymus Bosch