Rame - XIII: The Devil of Death by dusk скачать в хорошем качестве

Rame - XIII: The Devil of Death by dusk

The song is telling about an astral world entity, which have the right to torture souls endlessly in his afterlife. The entity that has transformed into a daemon from a larva of human, whose whole life was a preparation to this main purpose. Why "XIII"? This is the number of the Tarot arcanum "Death", which main meaning is a long transformation. "The Devil of Death" is the combination of Tarot cards, which precisely describe the process of human transformation into the entity of Torturer in his afterlife. "By dusk" tells that the beginning of this transformation only possible by the end of life in mature period. Rame is Russian/Ukrainian Black metal project of two musicians: Exile (Russia) - guitars, bass, vocals, lyrics Distressor (Ukraine) - drums, synths, sound production Mixed and mastered at TA production studio (https://www.facebook.com/ta.prods?_rd...) by Anton Vorozhtsov You can listen to the single here: Bandcamp https://rame6.bandcamp.com/track/xiii... Spotify https://open.spotify.com/album/5WkQGH... Amazon https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08... iTunes https://music.apple.com/us/album/xiii... Deezer https://www.deezer.com/us/artist/8567... LYRICS: Fury of the forever broken hands. Like a scald of madness, towards the higher purpose Of the Below order. Growing groans of feeble souls are my anthem to ascension. Erasing the name of the father, forgetting the eyes of the mother. Spitting on my body, but trancedly being in own shadow. What was cursed hundred times, won`t be cursed so far. What magnetized Death, won`t be dead itself so far. By the tickling of a larva I tread on the alleys to steal solace. The Fool in the morning, The Knight of the rueful countenance in the midday, But the Devil of Death by dusk. My new name is the echoes of laughter in the mortuary. My new name is the spits in the coffin of a bride. In my tears you will bathe the corpses of your children And though I`m a white dove, but still the Devil of Death by dusk… And in the echoes of my cries you will embosom the emptiness And though I`m behind the voice of the Lord, but still the Devil of Death by dusk… Those who are born blind to see my swan wings Will have the marks of my claws on their faces. But if there will be a chance to look at my former self, which I once was, When all will be said and done? ….Your faithfully, your Scapegoat…