Kayo Dot все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

One morning, before the leaves began changing
I caught a piece of summer and poured it into a pitcher;

This I placed in the cellar on a shelf collecting dust .
Autumn, then winter, rose up from the sea, and my
Garden was a garden filled with unbroken snow.

No flower strained its face to the ice giants' whisper,

"A Thunderbolt in the northern Sky...
...And the roaring of a Lion..."

Swept up by the downy wings of angels
Made from a heaven-laden voice,
I float with all the weight of Ether -
It pilots an aerie merchant's ship
Across the phantasmagoric main.

Almost condescending it looks on from inside
I feel strong, this day will never wither!
In sorcery is my most ancient thought
And I thought the sorcerer was right

It creeps behind a dusty mirror
They, in an attic I dreamt of once

Darkness in the cradle of my heart will never wane
Sandstone boy in wind and rain worn down featureless
A dented page of paper from a drawing diary
Wrapped in cracks like rivers, sugar ground to dust
A brittle urchin desiccated by the ocean air
Like a tower of ash upon a cemetery hill
I could never last, I could never last, I could never last.

The portraiture within me rose up
To meet a constellation
Borne on psychic waters.
Geometry showed me its dark side
And showered me with its arcing plumes.

The Lovers met in deepest dreams -
Tourmaline eyes glinting in the non-light.

The weight of murder fills the sky
A neon shadow rising up like vespers
From the haze that burnt away
The peeling painted stratosphere
Newspaper blowing by on a shriveled shred of apathy
A chronicle of missing persons
Only I know where I left the parts of them

Steal through passageways
Like water through fountain pipes
The eyes of many roll from their holes
Out to the causeway leering along
The crooked sidewalks at all there is to see
Follow secret back streets
Flow ljust like water through a pipeline

And so ten centuries solemnly collide
Love failed and I have
Lost my Name

Secrecy hoards the treasure
Coveted most by me
As rainwater collects in barrels
Sleep covers Abuse with Time

My grisaille is something sad to see
For the shallow diver.
Behold the reckling in his room
Coordinates shifted by a small degree
But stained glass lanterns still abloom
Nocturnal and blissom as ever
Seeking the colored path I am walking

Broken glass under a poison half-moon
On some shattered highway that goes nowhere at all
Wraps around its prey like a concrete serpent in the acid rain

With fangs fastened around my throat
I choke on the fumes as the world in a blur
Falls away but leaves me clouded and hollow

Laughter is ceasing,
All the coroners of New Orleans
Are calling, all the coroners are calling you

You are completely alone in this world
It's not your fault it's just easy to forget
Waiting for a voice to say come in
Outside, a bell is ringing on a traveling olive branch

The world lies thousands of leagues beneath the Sea
In the blackest abysses of gloom
I can see it spew shades like the eruption of boils
Like the stillbirths of saviours
Like the orgasm of demons
The shapes that surround me are void of coherence
A body's last breath
And a swirl in the smoke

The fragile photograph cracked and tortured —
Forgotten in its box in the attic amidst
A ponderous flood of memories
The broken lines on her face

The years that have shuffled on
Through disgust and turmoil
Spiders on the lips of its slow attrition

I will exalt my throne above the stars of God
Will chain the stars and pull down the heavens
Will sow the seeds of corruption -
They are many and always in their season,
And the fruits that swell on the Tree of Knowledge

One tree grew on Golgotha, I cut me a staff therefrom
And I wept as I mocked him and wished the world would forget

The Ribbon of the Bell
Slipped her stockings straight
And fluttered to the choir below
And tied herself to the countertenor
Leftmost in the frontmost row.

I saw her path before she even fell
And that is why I stood beneath the bell

Eat from the hand of Woman
The Wise
The Tempting
The centuries of castigation—
Defeat rose up from a beautiful gloom

It twisted itself around a tree
Like a love around a love

The wooden lookout seven stories high
The steeple at the top it won't stop singing
Singing singing singing
It's got a rigid rule number one
It's to keep the bodies living
The last crooked sign to bend to the way trees are growing

The usual size of a growth that's been trying

It never hurt this much before,
And I feel I'm courting Saturn.
The Twelve-Eyed Secret gazes through a prism,
Staring into raindrops swirling slow
It lifts its horrible heads
With lidless orbs of limitless vision.
I dream with fluid movements in a lake
The ripples cast from skipping stones

5. Kayo Dot - The Manifold Curiosity
In the fifteen minutes of "The Manifold Curiosity" we’re thrown into a long forgotten world – the environment of dark, fantastic motifs of, perhaps, Odilon Redon, covered by spider web and monochrome dreams in decay, haunted by father time as he whispers death to our ears. Instruments shadow each other in polyphonic restrain and yet culminate in excess when the central theme surges like an opium vision of melodic saxophone metaphors, the calm after the storm then leading to a final orgasmic nightmare of guitar wails and demon screams. A piece of symbolist art two centuries late, a complex, grand composition that distills the best of the band’s metal years as maudlin of the Well and enchants it with the alchemy of romantic decadence as much as with the intellectuality of modernism, "The Manifold Curiosity" shows Kayo Dot at its tightest, which in 2003 (and even now) meant one of the most ‘new music’-sounding bands in popular music. (David Murietta)

Every angel that drips
From the faucet into the sink
Tumbles down the drain
And deep into the ground

The choirs resound in an empty room
As angels seep into the earth
And no one noticed this coffin heaving

Oh, the dust and the dust and the dust
The ages of neglect by the
Cover of rust
The stone was alive, he could feel it
Breathing beneath his hands
On the table in the kitchen
By the light from the lamp
Burning high with olive oil

Sing to me a romance, sire
That splendid trod the starry roads.
All ye dust-strewn travellers, hasten
To the hearthside!
What seest thou, wayfarer,
Upon thy journey to a citrine sun?

Caves of candlelight with amethyst imbued,