Carach Angren все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Shite is the mark of this sighting, black is it''s soul. Dark is the soil where it haunts upon.
Jesus Christ!You were never capable of protecting these desecrated woods.
Shadows over Lammendam Shadows over Lammendam.
It''s the point of death''s return for a grand castle
there once burned.
Something is following me! Yet there''s no one I see as I walk the old
pathways near the woods.
A murderous identity is straing from the trees. Now I realize that

Bewitching spheres I sense when the temperatures fall.
Whilst dusk quikly devoures all light inside the
Townshend's hall. Ghostly phenomena I have seen...
roaming it's huge corridors as if I dream abysmal dreams.

1835; the year that colonel Loftus saw dark things
at night. Walking towards his room... a spectral form
appeared then vapourized in gloom.

This storm, lighting, fierce winds and monstrous waves.
A demonic tempest. My men complaining...
I command! We set sail!

"I beg you my captain!
Christ has forbidden to set sail on Easter Sunday!"

"What?! Your God?! May he suffocate! May he rot!"

"Sunday, October third. 6 p.m. rain... I was ordered to execute seven prisioners. Lined up, blindfolded and chained to a stake in a field. It seemed as if my bullets couldn't reach them. Instead the seven grinned and seven horrible visions of war, one by one, captured my soul..."
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"Воскресенье..., третье октября, шесть часов утра, в ночи звучит симфония проливного дождя... Мне было приказано казнить семерых узников... Их вид был ужасен, семеро несчастных пленников стояли предо мной с завязанными глазами, прикованные стальными цепями к деревянным столбам, что возвышались прямо посреди этих забытых богом полей ... Сделав несколько выстрелов, мне на миг показалось, что мои пули не могут причинить им вред.… Не прошло и нескольких мгновений, как семь демонических оскалов овладели моим сознанием и семь видений, что несли в себе повествования об ужасах войны, друг за другом, овладевали моей душой…

He came home with trembling bones and spoke:*
"Evil roams the sea!"
I caught a glimpse of something I describe as witchery.
They must think i am weird. my wife and daughter upset by what they hear.
As we go to bed, I kiss my love goodnight then close my eyes to forget.
Soon a lucid dream! The room around me shifts into a bleak and dismal scene.
Once my consciousness has vanished deep within my mind,
The firs thing i realize a severe beating from somone in the middle of the night.

Another tale of tragedy. He made the choice to end his life. So it is written, passionately. This soldier's fervent wish for suicide. His soul torn asunder by the horrors of war. One carrying so much death will soon care for life no more.

On the first day the soldier would quietly retreat to shoot himself through the head not far from his infantry.

"I can hear footsteps. Someone's coming near. Fuck! Should i stay? Disappear? Es ist mein bester Freund. Diesem soldat ist immer Für mich da. Quickly i put my Luger away. I thought this was my last day but i failed!"

"Bitte tötet mich! Bitte töte mich!"

Come Catharina and kiss the gold medal, a trophy for
the most respected man around. Breathe with me from the
opium pipe and drink
a little more wine. I love you, but not as much as my
sea, ship and crew. What?! Now you hide your fears lest
it becomes your fault should I
choose to molest you. Catharina! If you try to leave,
there will be grief. A wonderful house built for my

The crew froze as he wiped the blood off on his coat*
And threw the helmsman ruthlessly overboard.
In defiance of the storm, that kept them anchored for so long, he swore an oath to forfeit right and wring.
Irreverent he cussed loudly: "I will round the cape,
even if I have to sail until doomsday!"
Their petrified facial expressions could tell: their master was like a devil on this floating piece of hell.
There and then he gave the signal of departure.
"Make sail and weigh the hook!"

A few years later an author of sea-novels, entered
Raynhams dominion. Captain Murryat chose to spend
his night. In the room where the poltergeist most frequently
arrived.
There hung a portrait, a sketch drawn of a lady. It was the
face of something dark still wandering this place.

Is it for real?... I must reveal if these grim hauntings are

Ghost, a lost semi-transparent appearance
Soul, a fog-like human form of mental anger, caught between life and death

A threatening presence of an invisible personality
It keeps bewitching the sceneries of earth instead of departing to a much more blissfull world

Doomed and forgotten in a mortal realm of bloom
Repeating tragedy summoned by the moon

That night was weird
restless and bright
for the moon kept shining this awkward sick light

The winds came forth as if it sounded like a little child
No hundreds!
Weeping as if they realise it's time to die

Once upon a time, back when the Devil had a temper
For he was repulsed by love for as long as he could remember
He knew of a bond, that flamed fiercer than fire
Husband and wife he ached to see burned at the pyre

So he summoned a witch before his black throne
Demanded their bond corrupted by this wise crone
The smirking old Witch was instantly sold,

He takes his time when he stabs the boy to death
He keeps slashing and slicing
Even after his last breath
Ill-fated gods are given praise
Whilst stabbing the infant's torso,limbs and face
Gaping wounds gushing blood and gore,
Covering the pentacle on the floor
No way to die at that age

Kill! Here i walk down this godless trench where the corpses sink forever into shallow marshy grounds. Ican't remember confronting these extreme forms of violence. Knee-deep in mud, where skies weep leaden tears and blood.

It's hard to breathe within this thick cloak of sulphureus mist, conjuring slaughtering soldiers into sickening silhouettes. From this forsaken battlefield no soul can be dismissed. As if the devil is in charge, given orders from the depths of the abyss.

Goddamn! It's coming hard. Fire fight and waves of bombardments blowing soil, bone and flesh apart. Running to survive maybe the last private still alive. Suddenly it stops! I turn and see no enemy. There's nothing behind me.

I can't believe my eyes. I can't believe what i see. A timeless, frozen scenery where nature stands still! Except for me!

Hatred's occultation
causing harm upon their relation
No amour tomorrow
when love shall be consumed by sorrow, sorrow!

In olden days these kind of acts were a shameful disgrace
Maybe the price of jealousy and hate sealed her malicious fate
One night the village was awakened by agonizing screams

"Scalpel, Clamps. Pull him to the ground. No innocent hands! Every second counts! Cut! Through his skin thick blood flows. No anaesthesia as I dig in!"

Spleen uncovered, brutally removed. So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within. "Stitch him back up so he survives. Eating intestines to keep ourselves alive."

"Thirteen days starving to death since they bombed this place. All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines. No there is no escape!"

Half the village died, animals fled. Plague lurking like a ticking time bomb. The stench of death.

Battle formations, dead but still wandering ahead. A gigantic apparition keeps rising from a field, once colored red from bloodshed.

Where the sounds of war can still be heard and the balance of nature is seriously disturbed.

Spectral infantry battalions marching through a freezing timeless void. Again, ghostly cavalry regiments shall ride the lands they'd once destroyed.

Battle formations, fog-like infantry battalions. Battle formations marching unto an endless destination.

Next morning his corpse was found twisted, cut and broken
The way those empty eyes stared!
As if they saw the doors of Hell going open

Something bewitched returned from the ashes where she once burned
Princess of the moon
Roaming timeless gloom
Murder! Murder!

Listen! Don't you hear these mad symphonies of grievance and fear?
Melancholy and despair can be sensed when we draw near. Some hear a violin
sound, others hear a man moaning in tears. These fields are haunted by
nature's most sombre melodies. Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence
from light, mirth and vitality. These grounds are haunted by reflections
from World War II...

Arise! 1941, '42

Norfolk is cursed for the dead left a trace.
There a grand mansion was marked as unhallowed
place. Obscure sightings were frequently seen,
wandering dim hallways with an unearthly gleam.

Strange querimonious laughter at night. Probably
the consequense of ignoring heavenly light. Somehow
a sad spectral reality... kept reflecting the presence of a

A black shape sits on a deck in a red glistening puddle,
sobbing and shaking, curled up in a huddle.
The shape of a man amidst silence and slaughter,
clothes torn and drenched in blood and salt water.

"His fortune to dust, his fortune to dust!
His triumph in vain, his triumph in vain!
Riches to ashes! His tears lost in rain!"

In the age of electricity and oil, my tugboat ploughs through waveless liquid soil*
Cruising at thirteen knots on pitch black sea.
There's a strange object on the radars in front of me. Still nothing I can see.
Just an open dreary sea...

Several attempts to contact that what appeared to be the size of a ship.
No response 'till I receive transmissions of hostile nature.
These voices cursing my goddamn name.

ЛУЧШЕ ДОМА МЕСТА НЕТ

Однажды дом стоял,
И шла о нем молва дурная -
Что, дескать, им владел наркобарон,
Вершились в нем насилья и убийства...
На самом деле в нем жила семья,
Жила в тоске, отчаяньи и драме.

There he lies; haunted, hunted, beaten, tortured, hanged and eaten. Encumbered by the past of these seven apparitions.

"Where am I?" "Did I just die?" No one in sight. Scanning his surroundings for where they might lie.

The Prisoners, one by one, left him traumatized. Now only seven empty stakes pierce a blood red sky.

He runs but stumbles, tries to crawl, to flee from this macabre scene. With broken bones, blind and shocked, can't comprehend what he has seen.

Three Times Thunder Strikes
Трижды Грянул Гром

Добравшись до спичек
С твёрдым намерением сжечь её дотла
Она бросила доску Уиджа в огонь, и склонилась для молитвы

"Лучше бы я никогда, никогда не слушала своих друзей

They have to go
Get out of the house!
Get out of the house!
Leave! Right now!
They need help!
But no soul seems to be around
Ghastly are the calls of some black crows
Shrieking outside

"Weigh the anchor and hoist the sails!
Work harder ye drunken snails!
For treasury like pepper as gold.
Let this nautical voyage begin.
We are powered by strong European winds."

The triumph of The United Dutch East-India Company.

Three quite calm nights went by
Merely the silence before a new tempest arrived
All hell breaks loose on night four
The children can now hear how father is whipping their squealing mother
With his leather belt while she falls to the floor
The fear and tension is rising by the day
The boy falls asleep but his sister is kept awake
By having serious thoughts for the two of them to escape