Whoracle (1997, Nuclear Blast) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. JOTUN (Strömblad, Gelotte) I often dream of huge numb building jet-black sinister archtecture being installed when nobody sees Their appearance so sudden that few would take notice And when I wake up I imagine being crushed by one imagining its weight, its silence and the absence of excuses for a havoced life and the privilege of a 22-kilometre tombstone Jotun A body of black that carried no reflection defying its own room un-earthly eggs of decreation There would be colonies mushroom-scattered forever out of context rising spores from a dying world to pollute to chase away what's left Sun-white pulverised desert stone and serpentine lizard mouths Pales away the pyramids rewriting 4500 years of history raping the statue of liberty outplays the acropolis inverting the fjords invades the N.Y. skyline to dream its own existence in one single final word Jotun Can we identify them as the flint buried in our reptile skulls or the time-bomb coded in our DNA 2. FOOD FOR THE GODS (Ljungström, Gelotte, Strömblad) Shame marries the guilt introduces itself to the concept of total loneliness Sensations repressed make friends with Suicidia, and here the leeches begin to suck away the lust for life Thus, Escape takes lead into a world unknown uncontrolled by all where borders are erased and potential infinite Chosen cells, glands and transmittors blast the body with joy Astral feet running up to dimensions covered with gold, stairs of glowing ectoplasma, safir, onyx and buzzing vibrations A dead men's banquet food for the gods There's only 1 real world our earth is but a shadow Created from a child's heart a living jewel from now on abode for a soul in its setting Now cutting the bloodline re-tie the bleeding roots to a heavenly ship of glass and let it drift in passive arrogance in a one-word dialogue with the stars 3. GYROSCOPE (Strömblad) Geology is digging through my brain a manta engulfing the world to throw it up once again to a guild of lifted daggers Neo-wolf, but older again than the Lupus itself linked its fur to the gyroscope of time a collection of failures A diabolical sequences of stabs written in cunning stone from the fossilised den of thieves our lives die I see the nursing all-mother spitting out a tral of termites in the mouth of her first-born hope breasts ripe with smog-filled rebellion Apathy dressed in violence white insectoid legs curse her lips and mouth receptive only to pain 4. DIALOGUE WITH THE STARS (Gelotte, Strömblad) (instrumental) 5. THE HIVE (Gelotte, Strömblad) April night-tyme And we run like muscles through the stagnant nodes of man Blood-bridges lean towards the gaping synapses to disarm the stars within us Hornet, Hive-dark Severed wings in vainless beating buzz out from an inferno of fangs to disarm the stars within us We should have been so much more by now Too dead inside to even know the guilt Waning, Ring-deep a halo of thorns Sips now down in sheets of sharp silver to disarm the stars within us 6. JESTER SCRIPT TRANSFIGURED (Strömblad) Cre-age-aeon new beginnings held in infinite vacuum Biotronic test-worlds free of inscription devoid of the echoes of man noble cyborg savage In cold ceremonial perfection more radiant than the sum of suns with each and every attribute of animal machine and man Dystopia, ElectroHeart the grotesque and the linear took one final giant blow into the Ram of what is us Installing, awaiting the restoration of unsequenced chaos We've only seen the outlines of the beginning and this core, the slowly moving raptor will make the very notion of Hell seem celestial in comparison 7. MORPHING INTO PRIMAL (Gelotte, Ljungström, Fridén, Strömblad) Detonation fireworks and alchemy Genes spliced and triggered into the future and her organic cave Seismorgasmic omnipotence scenes of magma in my eyes Eruption stones my system I owe this to the animal inside and the stiffness that blocks out the daylight Morphing into primal I'll cover every particle from there to Andromeda not forgetting a single location from the throat of the Ibis to the co-ordinates of Matterhorn My shot is genesis and catharsis Penetratonant in a cosmology of lusts Suck this subterranean creature out and show it proudly to the house of heaven With one slight wave of my hand stars dissolve Dissolve my brain Block my lungs I'll die from fever tomorrow when locked in such a perfected 'now' 8. WORLDS WITHIN THE MARGIN (Ljungström, Strömblad) Raindrop hits the leaf, changing its position slightly on the street, next to polls of monotonous water. He walks. Slipping feet from steps at random. He falls. In the space between his body and the ground comets cast off their names, stellar neurones misfire. Witnesses x13 inhale the seed and spit out a million branches Buds abloom in all directions, from which events occur relations and virused meetings catch fire and explode In the margin of butterfly wings entire cycles of evolution outplayed and faded, sparked and leaned back into vacuum-filled nirvana. Between the two of my eyes feverish fractals scar, dance like were they on drugs peyote labyrinths, re-mapped exits A hasty blink and a million life-to-comes will never be the same as they never were. In the kinetic energy of a moving fist lies a birth-machine for a parallel universe With the first movement in the organinc soap came a bouquet of alternative answers all different, multiplied and re-divided Coded in the spinal cord of a trilobite, written between the legs on the Meganeura suburban city maps and dormant dictator semen marked their way through time. 9. EPISODE 666 (Strömblad) Welcome here, the squirrel-wheel begins fasten the left hand belts Remember not to think too much and your trip will be numbingly pleasant Non-caring is the easiest way but to secure a passage to the 2nd plane you have to complete level one Their dead-smile lips turn on their TV while urban gravestones scrape the skies Rising over marionette cities and marionette skies This is episode 666 destination chaos Each and all an actor blind 10. EVERYTHING COUNTS (Martin Lee Gore) The handshake Seals a contract From the contract There's no turning back The turning point Of a career In Korea being insincere The holiday Was fun packed The contract Still intact The grabbing hands Grab all they can All for themselves After all It's a competitive world Everything counts in large amounts The graph On the wall Tells the story Of it all Picture it now See just how The lies and deceit gained a little more power Confidence taken in By a sun tan And a grin The grabbing hands Grab all they can All for themselves After all It's a competitive world Everything counts in large amounts 11. WHORACLE (Strömblad) (instrumental)