IT IS HERE: THE COLLABORATION THAT WILL MELT YOUR EARDRUMS. And just in time, too. I'm leaving THIS sunday for a 4 months of work.
BuryYourFace and me spent endless hours drinking beer, sending each other ideas and discussing this project over MSN. I had to stay up until 9 am sometimes because of time differences. Well, also because I couldn't sleep. But it fucking paid out.
I recorded all the instruments, but the main riff ideas were from my friend BYF, i just transformed them a bit. BYF and me BOTH recorded vocals for this monster.
Thanks for the awesome time, and for this awesome song dude!
Check BuryYourFace's stuff out! NOW!!!:
http://buryyourface.newgr ounds.com/
The lyrics consist of different quotations and poems of my favorite post-WW 2 German poet/author called "Wolfgang Borchert". I loosely translated them, added a few lines and patched them together so they would make sense in a whole. No words describe the horrors of war better than those that come from the mouth of someone who was actually in it.
The beginning is Hitler's opening speech to WW 2 on September the 1st, 1939.
"Seit 5:45 wird jetzt zurückgeschossen. Und von jetzt ab wird Bombe mit Bombe vergolten. Wer mit Gift kämpft, wird mit Giftgas bekämpft!"
(translation:
Since 5:45, shots are being fired back. From now on bombs will be repaid with bombs. Those who fight with poison, will be fought with poisonous gas!)
The Lyrics:
"Shoot!" Said one.
He shot. And the head was broken.
He will never smell perfume, or see a city or say 'my love' again.
Ever.
That's when he realized what he had done.
But we were ordered to.. (he whispered)
But we did it! (screamed the other)
But it was horrible. (he then moaned)
But sometimes it was fun! (laughed the other)
NO! (screamed the whisperer)
YES ! sometimes it was fun! (whispered the other) That's the point. Real fun.
He was left alone with the creature he was most afraid of: himself.
But we were ordered to.. (he whispered)
But we did it! (screamed the other)
But it was horrible. (he then moaned)
But sometimes it was fun! (laughed the other)
NO! (screamed the whisperer)
YES! Sometimes it was fun! (whispered the other) That's the point. Real fun.
The violins turned to rifles.
The rifles turned to violence.
How could this have happened to the land of poets and thinkers?
i just can't understand.
He was left alone with the creature he was most afraid of: himself.
(I can hear you screaming. Please help my soul)
He was left alone with the creature he was most afraid of: himself.
And the last scream that he screamed, was not 'Motherland', 'Mother', nor 'God'.
The last scream that he screamed was sour and harsh.
it was: 'Vinegar'.
It was only quietly cursed.
And it pulled his mouth shut.. Forever. Finished.
