1. |
words
07:41
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Being angry, have faith
Frustrated, sad, total bliss
Always searching for
the words that fits the best
In mourn then sick,
Mind twisted or affected,
Every meaning sentence,
That makes me know my name.
It lies beyond one’s truth
Ignorance brings lies as certain proof
A war of words via black and white
Stained phrase is worst than a fist fight
A black tainted ink text,
Shadows the innocence of a blank sheet
Forever printed means no regrets
Unspoken words yet loud and clear
Enumeration always sets an imagery (shit!)
Pictured through the norms of one’s mind and fucking thoughts
Combined letters, same entity
Yet means nothing to a memory gone blind.
Hateful, down, wising up,
In love or not.
Every written line,
Depicts a state of mind
In shock, gazed or crossed,
Convincing yourself.
As soon as cemented,
My thoughts remain the same.
Instrument of one’s own discharge,
Emotions spilled through the ink of an old pen
Engraved in time not only then.
A writing process to recall what this has meant.
Whoever writes must have a reason,
An act of chosen satisfaction.
Somehow the words live but not the memory.
Somehow the words live but not the memory.
Combined letters, same entity,
Yet means nothing to a memory gone blind.
(lyrics by Vincent Turhan)
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2. |
worn as mask
08:22
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A will defeated in the ashes,
In a senseless mind, gone through oblivion
Possessed in, an infinite abstract,
Where death has got to me.
A constant imagery of death in sight,
Blurs in sorrow every glimpse of smile.
Converge (in) a path of hate all thoughts in mind,
As hope is nowhere left to be found.
Deep down remains a curse in black,
A social cancer without a cure.
Inside strays the shadow of the unknown.
Which part of me is worn as mask?
In a painful silence, ignore the truth from fake,
And the bitter answer to a therapy.
A self chosen isolation for a sake.
No need to share with anyone this agony.
Truth takes the shape of convincing lies
In fear I mould myself a private jail
Remains no life beyond this broken smile
(But the) Ambiguous nature of a man who failed
Deep down remains a curse in black,
A social cancer without a cure.
Inside strays the shadow of the unknown.
Which part of me is worn as mask?
(lyrics by Vincent Turhan)
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3. |
a reaching hand
07:48
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The final quest tastes like salvation,
While all those footprints have now erased.
As time has crystallized now nothing false is left.
Appears an isolated light in my formless horizon.
Silent light of a shameless hope,
Shines the sight of the words I never wrote,
But always remembered as the last note.
A far-off landscape made of the highest peaks,
Drawn before my eyes in a sacred bliss.
It’s a moment where I picture this last kiss,
Shared at last with the feeling I’ve always seeked.
Silent light of a shameless hope,
Shines the sight of the words I never wrote,
But always remembered as the last note.
Gloomy lights of an empty world in distance.
The road that’s been achieved in a final glance.
Transcends the meaning of life forever in this stance
Fallen snow in a silenced white land,
Shapes in fiction a reaching hand.
Hurling winds through the leaves of a pipal tree,
Chant in unison the anthem of the free.
As it draws the path of my last journey,
A cold comfort fills my dying body.
(lyrics by Vincent Turhan)
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EYES FRONT NORTH Paris, France
Blackened Post-Metal.
Next gigs (2018):
- March 3rd : No Man's Land, Volmerange, FR. w/ Forge &
Razor Butchers
- April 8th : Le Klub, Paris, FR. w/ Hemelbestormer
- April 20th : Biplan, Lille, FR. w/ Letters written on dead leaves
- April 21st : Domido, Arques, FR.
- June 8th : Covent Garden, Eragny, FR. w/ Nature Morte
... more
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