The Mouthless Dead

(Music: Ordeith. Lyrics feature excerpts from Neville Chamberlain, Wilfred Owen & Rupert Brooke) [Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain addressing the British nation, September 3rd, 1939:] ''This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin Handed the German Government a final note Stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o''clock That they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland A state of war would exist between us I have to tell you that no such undertaking has been received And that consequently this country is at war with Germany'' What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns Only the stuttering rifles'' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons No mockeries now for them from prayers or bells Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells And bugles calling for them from sad shires What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of their goodbyes The pallor of girls'' brows shall be their pall Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there Where there''s no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending Naught broken save this body, lost but breath Nothing to shake the laughing heart''s long peace there But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death [Neville Chamberlain:] ''You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me That all my long struggle to win peace has failed But now that we have resolved to finish it I know that you will all play your part With calmness and courage''

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 25, 2025

(Music and Lyrics by Ordeith, Drums by Rev. JR Preston of Tjolgtjar) Blackened antlers on lightened skin A misty haze and drums within This valley deep and wide across Green hued eyes like fresh grown moss Peer about this darkened land A wild home for wild men And women fair and strong and brave The ones who''s honor they keep and have This paradise of ancient lands Beliefs and customs, sword strong hands With weapons high and trumpets blare And hair grown out and skin so fair Though you may be extinct today Our people live your honourable way (In Memory Of Brett Vale)

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 25, 2025

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.