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Moonspell
Moonspell




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Альбом Moonspell


SIN/Pecado (1998)
1998
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. . .


Slow down. God can hear you.

. . .


For that viper that grows inside your head
she remains there waiting to be fed
self made parasite speculating about the end

Can you forgive her?

Back into the womb of this holy woman
else pregnant of an entire breed
of men afraid to create, to take place and to proceed

Can you forgive them ?

They promised me a miracle
a private god for me to hold

Can you forgive me?

They promised me a miracle
someone to really love

Can you forgive me ?

Your handmade god
is back into your womb

Is it right to indulge on an ecstasy
of creating a god that sees what I see,
looks exactly like me ,rather what I wanted to be

Can you forgive me?

For that viper that grew inside my head
for having betrayed you so well

can you forgive me ?

They promised me a miracle
when all my crimes will be just one
but now is gone
They promised me a miracle.
Back to your womb it feels so cold.

. . .


Crawl me into your second skin
and teach me everything

(Second skin)

Through your eyes a voyeur
Through your veils of a visionaire
talk to me about those things
no other soul would care.

(Second skin)

Outcast all the colours that I still have
Camouflage me so I can fall and stand
somewhere between an underrated angel
and all those citizens marked with X-sex.

(Second skin)

Tissue apart and right to the heart
teach me the wonders of your moral blade
so I can stand still when you have to kill
all that was yours before and now has to fade away

Draw me the fine line between religion and crime
You are one more son of a God you can never be wrong
but aren't we all?

As we sit and wait
for the serpent to bite our very own tale
(As I sit and wait
for the serpent to bite my very own tale)

(Second skin)

. . .


Men with both roots and wings
They tie us down and ask us to leave
They are teachings unheard, they are bodies on smoke

Men with both roots and wings
At a singular voice we moan
Our teachings mislead, our teachings like smoke

We sleep between the storm that was
And the storm which has to come

We've learnt to learn everywhere
And the very own nature has taught us to wait
Difference does sound like sin ,equality reliefs
And that fame rhymes with hate yet everything is fair
On the intervals of your death

Misguided demons or forthcoming heroes
Each one with an important name
Nothing else than an important name

Men with both roots and wings
At a certain time we are one
Our litlle tricks, our innocence stubborn

Men with just little wings, men with just little minds
Men with just little eyes, men with just little deeds

Sleeping between the storm that was
And the wind which fails to come (and finally)
Blow us away

. . .


Have you ever loved a woman
who instead of give or trade
would seduce you with a trade
have you ever loved this man?

. . .


Have you ever loved a woman
who should be that little intruder
in the one that you should be

Share the snake with us,
swallow the snake for us...

Have you ever loved a woman
who instead of give or take
would seduce you with a trade

Share the snake with us,
swallow the snake for us...

You have learnt heaven through impure lips
so different from what you have been told
so different from what you have seen

and now that you learnt you will have to release
the tender arms of a woman
which would have strangled you to let you live
you will have to elect the fainting arms of this cross
which are just killing you to let you live...

Share the snake with us,
follow the snake with us...

. . .


Would you pay by surprise?
Feasting on the dead's cultures?
And Christ what should I say more?
But honestly, I love that

Yes, everyone has a price
Why is everyone so surprised?
And there is always a claw
At the end of each hand
They stretch down to help you
(They) stretch down to hurt you

Look at me and see your child (had you been this good child)
(And) learn from your little girl
As she suicides once more
And then you have failed to be there
Too involved in tuning the world's daily lecture
On the vulture culture

(God has surprise
I really had - had to watch the ....
But when I'm offered of dead cultures
I can't see anymore
I have to lie)

Everything has its price
Is everyone satisfied?
Let me show you my sex
At the palm of each hand
It goes back and protects you
It ends up fucking you

Just tune me once more
And just try me once more
Just turn me on
Just tune me once more

Just try me once more
Just drive me once more
Just turn me on
Just tune me once more

Sell me out, sell me out, sell me out, sell me...

Yes, everyone has a price
Yes, everything is a prize
Let me show you my surprise
Let me show you my surprise

Does it turn you on to keep on tuning
On this vulture culture?

Vulture culture - are you satisfied?

Let ME show YOU my surprise...

. . .


(A hell of a place)

Let me welcome you to that special place
Where everyone is yours
(Let me welcome you to that special place)
And (where) you are everyone's

(Eurotica)

Let me welcome you to that special place
Where everyone is sane
Let me welcome you to that special place
Where you are everyone's

(Eurotica)

Let us spare you the grief
That to be yourself might bring
You are here to be amused maybe, confused or misused
To be a living metaphor of this modern, great swing
Just drink and eat and do not forget
To play always safe intercourse

(In this human sized and human shaped zoo)

We do not mind to progress alone
We do not mind to take it on
(We do not mind) to take control
We do not mind to be you

(Eurotica)

E666U666R666O666T666I666C666A

Where I wanna be
Where I wanna live

. . .


Approach and try to live me backwards
then without looking behind
surviving is somewhat confusing
although I never mind

if only silence could ever talk
how loud will be the voice
of this sincerily yours, violently yours

without you I am mute
without you, raped and nude,
no one can touch me like I do

If only you could crawl by yourself
and release me from all your weight
would I still love you to the point of hate?

Cherish my guilt and then juggle with it
that paper Jesus on your bedroom wall
will bleeds us to redeem

Without you I am mute
without you ,raped and nude,
no one can hurt me like you do

I want to know how it feels
to proceed without sharing it
your devil disguise is breaking
your face is now so crude
conscious blind and deaf and mute
it is the only way to be just near of you
it is the only way to show myself to you

Without you I am mute
raped and nude, without you...

. . .


Tomorrow will you wake up ?
and instead of eyes we will be born with blindfolds
Tomorrow will I wake up ?
and from my mouth will flee a song

Tomorrow I will wake up
with this strange need of not to belong
Tomorrow I will wake up
just to copy whatever is wrong

Tomorrow I will wake up
in a cage of perfect gold
Tomorrow, will I wake up?
hope in tongue, golden song

Tomorrow I will wake up
with an innate appetite
to be just one of yours

Tomorrow I will wake up
and try everything not to be alone
Tomorrow will I wake up ?
and try everything to be alone

Incise, open wide from the inside
cast out, see what is still left of live
Secure for me the status of a prime suspect
Tying the hands of a blindman
Teaching the colours to a blindman
and ask him to react, and ask him to react

Tomorrow I will finally feel
a natural will of being artificial

into Decadance with elegance.

. . .


Hey you little Jesus bride why have you smiled to me?
Hey you little Jesus bride why have you sang to me?
They say that God is inside us all, and sometimes He is
not in the way that I have preached for to wish to
but God is my lover and I love him too

He acts in mysterious ways
He has such mysterious shapes
- I know them all from inside out
and in one by one I do believe - no matter how

and They say the tongue who prays is the tongue which licks
and that the ones who kneel in four shall stand
to be loved by God without having the grace
to see who is behind them now, wearing God´s face

the Judgement day is not ever far away
but to how many did it came long before the puberty

Hey you little Jesus bride, why have you smiled to me?
Hey you little Jesus bride, why have you sang to me?

as they select themselves and cut in innocent flesh
what Jesus really meant by: "Let the children come to me..."

Hey you little Jesus bride, be my wife, be my wife...

. . .


Put your arms around my neck
just like a pathetic lace of death
displays like a tarot deck
I am the card of the hanged man
and here I stand
with a flame on my hand
do you understand?

If there is hope for me
she is flirting with the breeze
on a peculiar choreography
with the dead arms of some old southern tree

silently, lips sealed against me
silently, wanna walk with me?

And it makes you wanna know
if in all the stories the truth is really told

And it makes you wanna reborn
and like a snake crawl every warm season
Into a different form

When you can still kill me,
when you can still cure me. Cure me.

Put your lace around my face
just like a fairytale
through the blank of my closed eyes
you can foresee the rope within

And it makes you wanna know
how deep have you truly flown

And it makes you wanna ride
through the fake suicide of someone
already dead inside

Still you walk with me, silently

and it makes you wanna disclaim
something you had really never learnt

and it makes you wanna stay
forever tangled in the pale arms of some hanged man

Here I stand. To understand.
Violently. I have you with me...

. . .


(We were happy to have you with us tonight
and hope you'll come back often.)

. . .


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