1. |
Burgeon
01:26
|
|||
2. |
Sea Of Trees
05:22
|
|||
A plotted course marked in sweat recited through screams in my dreams.
Cicada sing, carrying the chosen to the sea of trees.
Chasms of emptiness glow green, caressing my hands on the crust from where suffering souls have been, there are no flowers to be seen.
Creased and twisted figures stand corroding in a drift of leaves, buried within the thicket her whispers are what I need.
A calling from the woods is what I see.
The forest beckons my name; it lingers within me. Paradise awaits among the sea of trees.
It's beckoning my name.
Overwhelmed, I gaze in awe.
A hidden paradise for me to explore. With every cleansing breath, more eager to explore, with every cleaning breath, I need it more and more.
Stargazing, I feel my life being taken away. At one with the earth, fused with the stars.
The forest beckons my name; it lingers within me. Paradise awaits among the sea of trees.
|
||||
3. |
Arboreal
08:55
|
|||
In the forest, I remain fused with the trees. I inhabit the woods.
With roots as veins, my carcass matures into compost.
I nourish the land as my body blooms into a new life, into a new life, I nourish the land.
Slumped in the soil, vines compromise my trembling thighs, I am arboreal.
Spine turns to stem, I photosynthesize. Flowers begin to flourish as the wilderness feeds
Swallowed into the earth, a harvest of meat. Ingested in dirt, then reborn in bloom.
Beauty bewitches what is left of my mind, wild gather as remains provide.
Dead and alive, I'm seeding the land. Mould and blossom begin to thrive.
Crooked, I commune by my newly found mother. Her whispers of praise are simply sweet sorrow.
Roots of the earth make their way through what remains of my human form, becoming ethereal
Slumped in the soil, spine turns to stem, swallowed into the earth, I am arboreal.
Beauty bewitches what is left of my mind, I'm dead and alive, I am arboreal.
Devouring my past flesh, becoming ethereal.
Crooked I commune with my newly found mother, her whispers of praise are simply sweet sorrow.
Slumped in the soil, vines compromise my trembling thighs, I am arboreal.
|
||||
4. |
Solace
05:11
|
|||
I want to feel, but so hollow inside, completely numb, a poisoned mind
This world is a curse, there's no point to life. I long for release, I've been breathing for far too long.
I'm tired of being here, I'd like to try a new place.
Nothing but grief, nothing but sorrow.
The darkness always breaks me down, it never seems to end.
Stranded someplace, only one-way out, ending it all is the only escape.
Seeking solace in death, I'm not sorry for wanting to die.
|
||||
5. |
Lament
04:46
|
|||
As I stand beside myself, loathing in the pain that may never be.
The blinding light forces me back into the dark, my tormentor, my torturer.
You reside within me for countless, but I refuse to let you slip away.
Fused into the very fabric of my being, I fear I'd be lost without you.
And as you claw at my throat, stealing my voice, I cannot help but feel, none of this is real.
Just a voice that's manifested in my head.
Carving worthless into my skin again
I bleed, the weight begins to lift, fear is not only what you see.
Behind this smiling face is suffering, do you hear the screams inside my head.
I cannot help but feel, none of this is real, deafening for me, silent for you.
|
||||
6. |
Swansong
06:44
|
|||
The grim has finally lifted, I feel alone for the first time, my unwanted host retires back into the shadow.
Oh what beauty surrounds me, is this real, am I dead, a picture-perfect setting too pristine to be real.
An otherworldly autumn circles me; wind caresses the back of my neck.
Blissful serenity washes over me, as I listen to the whispers of the ghostly trees.
I'm dead and I couldn't be happier, no misery, nor pain, I'm finally free.
This, my suicide note, every twisted, frightening thought I once had.
Ink flows in sync with my blood, spilling onto the forest bed, where I endlessly dream.
I'm dead and I couldn't be happier, a final toast to good friends.
My swan song for you all, please don't blame yourself.
A beaming blue-face hanging from a branch.
Spilling onto the forest bed. where I endlessly dream.
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like Corps Fleur, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp