Chant Du Cygne

by Oh, Sanctum

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about

“Oh Sanctum,
Doth I, she, he, we, their, them.
Oh Labyrinth,
Come hither, take me, take us”

credits

released August 20, 2012

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license

all rights reserved

about

Oh, Sanctum QLD, Australia

Jaymund - Bass/Vocals
Duncan - Guitar
Morgan - Drums

We're three kids trying to learn how to be infinite and pure.

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Contact Oh, Sanctum

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Track Name: Anxiety
I see liars all around me,
I kick it up from the Earth,
this tasteless being,
you all consume me,
like a fucking night terror.

Intertwined with my reality,
I am not alive.
I am not alive.
I am not alive.
I am not alive.
Track Name: Parting
I am our murder weapon,
I am the river that does not bleed water,
I reside in extinction, for my voice is naught,
you are beauty,
I will always love you.

For long as I silhouette our vows,
of horrors that could have been.

I wait & wait,
but I never stay,
I am a non entity,
I am to depart,
& the truth in my words,
leaves Death as the final art.

sanguine fluid,
you are purple under my stinging epidermis,
my lover cuts when we cross separate roads,
& now I’m just waiting for the stampede,
to come and rip all the tree’s from my path,
leave me without a source of air,
so much sets a sail,
our veil upon our waves,
my life withers,
my words ash,
my tongue rolls to the back of my sick stained throat,
you are what Love and Death would compose,
you are the sweet harmonies that scream as I decompose.
Track Name: Birds
Why does my Paradise bow to Oblivion?
The cliff misuses the utter twist,
I do not terminate, I do not impress,
I sit fucking catatonic amongst everyone's mess.

Like vanishing birds,
the specimen aborts panic in his walking verse,
like wingless birds,
the identity swallows the whole damned gun.

Why does my dissolution feel like a friend?
The cunning disturbance hardens around my throat,
the hands I wanted to choke me from the start,
your placid beautiful being,

Like vanishing birds,
the specimen aborts panic in his walking verse,
like wingless birds,
the identity swallows the whole damned gun.

I roll a cigarette with shaking hands,
I hear the convulsions in swollen glands,
I feel the chatter of rotting teeth,
I taste the disease of your grief,
I relish in our lack of belief.

Within a transcript, horror swallows the mist,
cut myself like the cliche I am.
Track Name: Detachment
I was a faceless anatomy,
in a dream, that I believed,
the skin was ripped down to the bone,
I felt more than dead.

You all hate me,
this is survival,
oh, of the fittest,
I lay unfit behind a cigarette,
behind another fucking cigarette.

Dear Lover!
Where are you?
Where are these words?
you said everything comes to him whom waits,
well I've waited far too long,
my faith moved no mountains,
instead we drowned helpless in lakes,
that drought,
just before,
we die alone.

Lover!
Are you dead?
Are you these bones to bury?
What did you cry in birth?
March comes in like a lion,
& goes out like a lamb,
I am the writing on my grave,
helpless fucking words,
& dear, in all my amour,
I feast upon my own longing...

Day after day,
week after week,
month after month,
year after year,
decade after decade,
until I am God Damned fucking dead.

So,
here I am,
here I lay,
ready to breathe ones last x3
Track Name: Chant Du Cygne
HAVE YOU EVER LIVED A DAY IN THE LIFE OF YOURSELF?

The corpse dances, at my accord, an existence flashes with smoke, from a wet cigarette, they write my ending before it happens, in a biography with no pages, no pictures, no tomb, just a floating apparition, confound to a being, that will suffocate too, and then we will have our ‘eternity’.

Inside the ecological grace cautions a missed presence, a verifying initiative overcomes the dependence, the natural beloved ignites the anthology, forty two pills serve the glorious narrative, a prescribed tragedy revolts itself from a Devils mouth, my errors insert after this horrified alert, a sigh slaves from a mountain we would climb, my tiresome hands struggle to keep up, I am a fool to underestimate this virtue, the crowd runs into my sanctum to see the show, just ready to know the curtains will close, & I am the Reapers whore, a view emerges as my family and friends fade, it is not light, it is not God, it is not Hell, SERENITY.