Elegy

Better it would be for me And better it would have been Had I not been born, not grown Not been brought into the world Not had to come to this earth Not been suckled for the world If I'd died a three-night-old Been lost in my swaddling band I'd have needed but a span of cloth A span more of wood, But a cubit of good earth Two words from the priest Three verses from the cantor One clang from the bell Better it would be for me And better it would have been Had I not been born, not grown Not been brought into the world Not had to come to this earth Not been suckled for the world I'd rather die, I'd rather be better unborn If I'd died a three-night-old Been lost in my swaddling hand I'd have needed but a span of doth A span more of wood, But a cubit of goof earth Two words from the priest Three verses from the cantor One clang from the bell Better it would be for me And better it would have been Had I not been born, not grown Not been brought into the world Not had to come to this earth Not been suckled for the world I'd rather die, I'd rather be better unborn

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 22, 2025

The Devils weds a widow Death another's leftovers Better to lie on a willows Rest on alder boughs Then upon a widow's bed On a used woman's pillow Sweeter the side of a fence Then a widow's flank Softer the side of a grove Than a widow's beside is The Devil weds a widow The grave one twice wed A widow's hand is rougher Than a dry spruce bough With which she strikes the playful Grabs the one who laughs A widow has had her games And spent a merry evening

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 22, 2025

The calloo's spirits are low Swimming on the chill water But the orphan's are lower Walking down the village street. The sparrow's belly is chill Sitting on the icy bough But my belly is more chill As I step from glade to glade. The dove's heart is cold As it pecks the village rick But I'm colder still As I drink the icy water.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 22, 2025

Old folk remember And those today learn How before their time Life was different here: Without the sun people lived Groped about without the moon With candles sowing was done Planting performed with torches. At the time we lived Without the sunshine Who had covered up our sun And who had hidden our moon? Without the moonlight stumbled With our fists fumbled the land With ourhands we sought out roads With hands roads, with fingers swamps We could not live without sun Nor manage without moonlight; Who would seek out the sun Who spy out the moon? Who else if not God The one son of God?

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 22, 2025

Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense Who say that music reckon that the kantele Was fashioned by a god Out of a great pike's shoulders From a water-dog's hooked bones: It was made from the grief Moulded from sorrow Its belly out of hard days Its soundboard from endless woes Its strings gathered from torments And its pegs from other ills So it will not play, will not rejoice at all Music will not play to please Give off the right sort of joy For it was fashioned from cares Moulded from sorrow.

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 22, 2025

Many rocks the rapid has A lot of billows the sea More plentiful are my cares Than cones on a spruce Beard moss on a juniper Gnarls upon a pine bark Knobs upon a fir husks on a grass-top Boughs on a bad tree. Drag my cares away Carry off my griefs For no horse can draw No iron-shod jerk Without the shaft-bow shaking off The cares of this skinny one The sorrows of this black bird.

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 22, 2025

What the thrush toils at The partridge asks for The hapless one takes The troubled one steals Puts upon a spade Sets on a runner Hides under a door Shields with a bath-whisk The farmer hammers And tempers his spears Marries off his sons Hands out his daughters In boots clogged with clay In fancy mittens The sea-swell rumbles And the wind it blows And the king hears it From five miles away From six directions From seven backwoods From eight heaths away.

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 22, 2025

In the vale where I once listened out for the light Where the little birds warble The ptarmigans babble And my heart looked about for some rest from its trouble I cast my eyes downward upon the seaside And a fair young girl on the shore I espied Who was sitting and weeping To see the waves leaping And over the skyline sad vigil was keeping. O why are you weeping alone on the shore? Now still from your eyes I can see the tears pour. What sorrow and smart So pierces your heart That even at midnight it will not depart?

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 22, 2025

Long evenings full of longing Low-spirited my mornings Full of longing too my nights And all times the bitterest. 'Tis my lovely I long for It is my darling I miss My black-browed one I grieve for. Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one There's no hearing my treasure No seeing my marten-breast No hearing her in the lane Driving below the window Chopping the wood by the stack Clinking outside the cook-house In the earth my berry lies Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one Beneath the grass my treasure Under the sand my sweet one Long evenings full on longing Low-spirited my mornings Full of longing too my nights And all times the bitterest. There's no hearing my treasure No seeing my marten-breat No hearing her in the lane Driving below the window Chopping the wood by the stack Clinking outside the cook-house In the earth my berry lies In the soil she's mouldering Under the sand my sweet one Beneath the grass my treasure The one I grieve for.

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 22, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

In the darkness I will shine Cast no shadows, nor define I walk on water, float on air There's no other to compare I have this fascination No cause for deviation It's called levitation There's no cause to start and scream Nor rub your eyes - this is no dream Although I sit upon this chair I rise and float up in the air I have this fascination No cause for deviation It's called levitation Magnetic force, repel-attract Once it starts there's no turning back I offer you this chance to learn Take it now there's no return I have this fascination No cause for deviation It's called levitation

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Nov 07, 2025