1. |
Hubble Volumes
03:16
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I hold my morbid glass to murky stars
To where a trillion other glasses are;
Magnifying all the depths of sky
I catch my features in a suicide,
Through the bending light and godless mass
Leaks the memory of futures passed.
Through the wormhole and its twisted light
I pray to see my evil fate put right.
The endless pointless scenes in front of me
Repeat themselves throughout eternity;
Overwhelmed by possibility,
Endless random mediocrities.
.
I cast my morbid gaze to foreign rooms.
I scan the stretching sky for hidden clues.
In the multitude of forking hells
I see my failings in my countless selves.
In the dreary mistlight mapping time
Every night I watch my fates align.
My image cowers beyond the edge of space.
My death is endless in the plane of place.
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2. |
Hatching, Life!
01:54
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Smiling pride. An egg in the eye.
Hatching life. Tiny eyes.
The eyes and mind shall bend towards vice,
Both to die and feed shiteflies.
The flies will dwell in the slime and the shit
And I shall shit as I see fit
And in my eye I will fix grit
In a corneal pit where eggs shall sit.
Blind I preside over kingdom come,
My holy see of slime and scum.
Mortified I blindly preside
Mummified with flies inside.
Tiny eyes outliving life,
Outliving life and shite and vice.
Blind I preside, slimy with pride
In the hazy glum with an eyeful of thumb.
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3. |
In The Village Gaol
03:51
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I awoke alone
With a weight in my chest
And some bones in the garden
Stripped clean of flesh.
They took me in
And sent a man.
He was found in the garden
Stripped clean of flesh.
Waterflowing voice leaks into me cell, wyrming wyrmy wyrmlike words,
Speaking evil thoughts to chill me blood and scrunvulate me grods alive.
A shroudy visitor glistens in the hall and scraws his claws towards me bars.
His stinking maw does sparkle with snaken teeth and cowey wetful tongue.
I cower in the bedsheet and cover up me eyes but my ear betrayeth the bending bars.
He twists between the gap and his tongue caress me brow and play towards the eye.
He slurpeth up me eyelids and draws me sight to his and opens wide his maw,
And that’s when I awake in my clear and sparkling garden, a bony old mess of a man.
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4. |
In The House Of The Dog
04:57
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In the house of the dog
I watch the women and the men.
I sip my drink in the lamplight.
In the house of the dog
I see the stranger at the door.
I see the dirt at his feet.
In the house of the dog
The women dance away.
The men retire to bed.
In the house of the dog
The marshlight leaks inside.
He shares his wicked plan.
In the house of the dog
He draws me to my feet.
A certain time come.
From the house of the dog
To the forest in the night.
To the heart of the marshlight.
Unholy mushroom grant me flight,
Evil salve grant me sight.
Straddled on a swarthy toad,
Rising through the rottenbranch,
High above the marshland
To the palace of the goat.
To the house of the dog
With the evil at my back
And the dirt at my feet.
To the house of the dog
With the rune on the bezoar
And the knowledge of the marshlight.
In the house of the dog
I cast the rune in the morning
And wait for the marshlight.
In the house of the dog
I watch the women and the men
I sip my drink in the marshlight.
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5. |
How I Lost My Eye
06:50
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Ten years ago I walked a northern moor
Where I glimpsed a mucoused witch who cursed me pervert’s eye
And sent me back to town through misty depthless fields
Followed home by frogs and bats and unfamiliar thoughts.
A year from that I met me godly wife.
We were married in a church that faced that godless moor.
I said she were me first and as such so me son
And all were right for me but for I half did see.
Father. Yes son? Why ye misty eye?
I once had a lover, who left me for the sky.
Ye’ve a brother on the moorside who you shall never meet
He walks just like a badger, with mushrooms at his feet.
His temperament is much like yours but not so well behaved
He came out older than the hills and smelling of the grave
I take him chops and gingerbread the eve of each feast day
And call upon his mother when yours has gone away.
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6. |
Yawning Tuonela
02:54
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cancerousweedbreathingfilthn
noxiousfumesmassmurder
yawninghell
hiddenknowledgecorruptforesight
yawninghell
satantowersbelchingfilth
blackeningskiesboilingearth
yawninghell
hiddenknowledgecorruptforesight
boilingearthcancerousweed
yawninghell
chokingonfalsehooddrowningforprofit
trackdowntheliarsgiveouttheirnames
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7. |
||||
In the midnight of my chamber
He crawls on the ground like an ape.
Cackling through his slathermouth
In a humourless display.
His wartknots bend
Through the ribs of his chest.
His rottoungue tends
Towards the tips of my breast.
My mirrormooned glaucomic shroud
Shields me from his grimly sneered.
I see not fingernails decay
And elsewhat twistvained fears.
His sickbreath clouds
My mortal sight.
From the window crack
And his writhewormshite.
He sweats me waking
In rich disgust,
My lungs a-coating
With mothhandsdust.
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8. |
Beekeeper
08:47
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When I am old
I will keep bees.
I’ll wear a mask
And tend the trees.
Out on the hills
When I am old.
Soon from now
I will keep bees.
When I am old
And stopped with life
And stopped with talk
I will keep bees.
I will keep bees
And a basket weave
By the water wheel.
Soon from now.
I will drink in the warm months and die in the cold months
And be blind in the cold months and die in the cold months.
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Kastchei UK
Blackmetalpunk from the UK. Kastchei physical at
thedropacollective.bandcamp.com
The band's share of all digital proceeds from this page (that's everything except Bandcamp and Paypal fees) goes to Detention Action, who provide support to people held in the UK's immigration detention system. For physical copies, we donate everything over the minimum price.
detentionaction.org.uk
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