Skarab

by Skarab

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05:10
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04:02
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04:38
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credits

released July 2, 2012

Tim Steffens: Guitars
Christian Kolf: Vocals
Gabor Schary: Bass
Richard Nagel: Drums

All music written by Tim Steffens & Skarab.

Drums recorded in March 2011 by Tim Steffens at Cat Cave Studio, Düsseldorf. Assistant drum engineering by Richard Nagel.

Bass, guitars & vocals recorded from Mai to August 2011 by Tim Steffens at Burgweiher Studio, Bonn.

Mixed from December 2011 to Febuary 2012 by Armin Rave & Skarab at Soundsight Studio, Hennef. Mastered in Febuary & March 2012 by Armin Rave at Soundsight Studio, Hennef. Produced by Tim Steffens Cover Painting by Jan Buckard.

Total playing time: 43:11

Published by Zeitgeister 2012

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Track Name: Heat
Squirm through these seemingly desolate wastes. Time will not catch you and feed you. You are the thousand plains that hold desire in high esteem. Higher to awaken droll capabilities. This will summon you if not careful. Poisoned arrow that glides with love towards you. Gliding though is Cupid's obsession. Sliding through the passage of lies. Squeeze the golden gravy from the deep. There is no soul for those to reach. This will summon you if not careful. Poisoned arrow that glides with love towards you. Gliding though is Cupid's obsession. Sliding through the passage of lies. You do not hear this. You do not lie. Strength cuts a blunt end. I will see you in twenty years time. Now, if you say the magic words. Heal.
Track Name: Sculpting In Time
A journey across the open sea. Into realms of unknown. Beyond all creation. Eternal storm over untouched land. Sculpting in time. Absurd visions. Sculpting in time. Infinite echoes. Sculpting in time. Memories carved in stone. Sculpting in time. Time melting into endless shivering mirrors. Shadows dancing. Reality sacrificed. A silent witness. Primitive monuments. Salvation. Live forever. End creates a beginning. Mother Chaos guiding us. Glowing night returns. Time sculpting time.
Track Name: Horus
Rebuild yourself beside the green city. You are now a flow of falsities. Collapse. Collobrate. Destructive. Severe. Concrete. Tears that drip from eye to eye. For no matter what you think. Since we met at the garden brink. See with a thousand eyes. We devour all ourselves forever. Cold, cold vast holes.
Track Name: Island Of Birdmen
Seabirds were its first owners. A place where trees refuse to grow. Eighty miles off the mainland. Life is struggle. Several failed crops. All hope abandoned. Evacuation before the next winter. Signature collection. Innocent simplicity. Leaving just before summer solstice. Confused waves. A gentle breeze turning to storm. The women waving a last good bye. And now the seabirds have it for their own again.
Track Name: Sunset
I have to walk this way. I walk the old path. Nothing will ever change. You wish, you pray. You wish, you pray. Oh you wanna reign the sky? From day to day, from night to night. Come almighty demise. Bow down to me. When will you come? Bow down to me. Time heals no wounds. Come and go like the rain. Never in the center. Lost it like everyone. It's all you. It's all you. You wish, you pray. You wish, you pray. Oh you wanna reign the sky? From day to day, from night to night.
Track Name: The Body Of A Graveyard
The body of a graveyard. In a field of salt. Crocus flips his wing. Crocus flips his wing. He says lie. He says lie. He says please don't lie. Cellar sewed up to eyeballs. Attic knocks the feet. Your turn says the eyeball. Wrong turn says the road. Learn your own language. Lean on your tongue. Learn your own tongue says the mouth. Teeth grow into moustache. Tongue mocks the beard. Man rocks himself with a tender slum to the left. Growth on the left. Runs into. One tongue turns to the other. Wrong turn turns into another. Like a rake preening space.
Track Name: The Rabbi Of Weeds
Owls pushed the path with their breasts. Leaving cavaties in the horizon. For vagrants to hide in. Through the desert alley. Into a desert clearing. Lambs were eating scorpions and shaving themselves for a warm coat. In the desert lambs rattled and gnawed. Delicately. Peeling their atomic shells. Whilst the orchestra ate themselves as a soundtrack to the feast and the future. Their voices scored the air in slow-motion. As the rabbi of weeds baptised the flowers with holy piss and cursed himself with the breast milk of unborn babies. He was scalping doves. Fitting their heads to the flower. Peeling their atomic shells. Whilst the orchestra ate themselves as a soundtrack to the feast and the future. Their voices scored the air in slow-motion. He was scalping doves. Fitting their heads to the flower. Not licking weeds. Sowing lies in the seed. Just throwing stunts into the void. An echo of endless feet. No hands to wipe the tears onto the eyes.
Track Name: Stone Torches
The night is long or me. Some people know it, some people don't. The night is long or me. For me, the night never ends. I am ready for the night. Night - as in the night of us. Broken into little pieces. Broken into little pieces. By the chain of the life-span. The one long day. That never ends. Night - as in the night of us. It is in our sleep we find solitude. Our peace - our rest. The day is for living. For you are alive are you now? To tell me it has been a long day. I freeze in terror. And the sight of the leeks long stems that bulb into opaque - stone torches.
Track Name: I Am The Winding Stair
I am the winding stair that reaches through me. I like the waters I swim in. My home, this is here and everwhere. I am tomorow and the sunset breeze. I wait for no one. My skin does not save me. Calls came in like a storm. I sat and waited for lies. I am the spent wick. Dropped from a higher flame. We search for anything. We search for anything. For the pain of all that there just is. Someday I can see it, I will realise this cardboard jungle has no animals or trees. I am tomorrow and the sunset breeze.
Track Name: Unarmed Sailor
Waves and silver lines are necessary. Angelic grammar - the minds of the Angels. The Angels of Schizophrenia thought I may have spoken. Thought I may have spoken. It feels like I am so on fire. Where does this fire burn from? I am becoming a writer not by decision, but by the lines I draw so intensely to the page. The visions. The art of the world. The master craftsmanship. It's surreal and gorgeous. Fluid for me to swim in. Like a deceiver or a reliever of fate. The morning is not yet here? Let the night stay more. At the height - past the vertical pinnacle. And we are all what it becomes and sees. A dense brain into which we all perform mind surgery to one another. Digging, always digging. These are cantos for the unarmed sailor.