Seeing this floating around on tumblr - you should totally check out the archive/website of Karl Nagel. His punkarchive is an example for The Postpunk Project. Sending us photos for the book is possible until summer 2013.
Seeing this floating around on tumblr - you should totally check out the archive/website of Karl Nagel. His punkarchive is an example for The Postpunk Project. Sending us photos for the book is possible until summer 2013.
Corpus Delicti — Staring
Lyrics:
I used to take the night when it comes
I used to take the night as it falls
My body enfolded in it’s velvet pall
My bloody thoughts in it’s foggy call
I used to lay down by the hill
And watched the darkness, standing still
My head in pain among the cold
My hands grazed of growing old
I used to wake up with the moon
Praying for the sun to die soon
Lost in the wake of a brand new world
Burying myself in another birth
I’ve tried to run through the tide
But always fell before I fly
I used to get caught in the clouds
With blood on my face, with the strangest smile
Hoping for the wind to carry me away
Wishing for a wave to be another day
I used to climb above the walls
Made by the sound of the voices, cold
I used to try to touch the air
But always found a deep despair
Always lost, bewitched by the night
Deep in a black ocean, scared by the night
Now, I’m fed up with staring
At the black sky, suffering
There’s a coffin, waiting for me somewhere
With nothing to see inside and no reason to stare
I used to sleep close to the stars
But never fell the shining fire
Fighting for the eternal life
Looking for the killing knife
I used to take the night when it comes
I used to take the night as it falls
My body enfolded in it’s velvet pall
My bloody thoughts in it’s foggy call
A wake in a gloomy world
With killing mirrors that never glitter
Now, I’m fed up with staring
At the black sky, suffering
There’s a coffin, waiting for me somewhere
With nothing to see inside and no reason to stare
And devil is waiting for me somewhere
I’m coming I don’t know where
I close the door…
2087:
astounding. somebody made a german expressionist bathroom
You have learnt nothing, except that solitude teaches you nothing, except that indifference teaches you nothing: it was a lure, it was a mesmerising illusion which concealed a pitfall. You were alone and that is all there is to it and you wanted to protect yourself; you wanted to burn the bridges between you and the world once and for all. But you are such a neglible speck, and the world is such a big word: all you ever did was to drift around a city, to walk a few kilometres past façades, shopfronts, parks and embankments.