ScotboX

Experimental Music

Lyrics The darkness consumes my shadow, the night is at my feet, my wings start to unfold, as the moon will guide me, I will find you, before the sun turns gold. (chorus) I am the dark angel, the lost keeper of the night, searching for lost souls, as my wings take flight, i am half heaven half hell, the forgiver or the slayer, the seraph of sevitude, your nightmare or your prayer. I am the dark angel, the lost keeper of the night, searching for lost souls, as my wings take flight, i am half heaven half hell, the forgiver or the slayer, the seraph of sevitude, your nightmare or your prayer. I am the dark angel, the lost keeper of the night, searching for lost souls, as my wings take flight, i am half heaven half hell, the forgiver or the slayer, the seraph of seRvitude, your nightmare or your prayer. break THE chains, wrapped in deception BRING DOWN THE WALLS OF THE LIES OF WAR break THE chains, wrapped in deception BRING DOWN THE WALLS, DO I HEAR YOUR CALLS? Between the morning dawn, and the red fire of the twigh light, i am the desert storm that blows through your oasis, the maker of brimstone the sound of a thousand stars, fall from the burning sky, to light up those darken places. I roam the ancient sands, Where the spirits lie deep, Through dunes and sacred lands, In shadows, secrets keep. I am the desert call, The echo of the wind, Between the morning dawn, and the red fire of the twigh light, i am the desert storm that blows through your oasis, the maker of brimstone the sound of a thousand stars, fall from the burning sky, to light up those darken places. Whispers of the ancients, from mountain to sand, Resonating deep, with the blessings of the land. From the Himalayan heights, to the steppe's endless sprawls, Feel the echoes of tradition, in the resonance calls. I am the timeless flame, ageless and true, Blending all the worlds, in a harmony anew. In the twilight's silent gaze Mysteries unfold, through shadows and haze Echoes from ancient lore, whisper through the trees Resonating chants, weave through the breeze Traverse through sacred lands, where spirits dwell deep In the silent sands, ancient secrets sleep I AM THE SERAPH of SERVITUDE, PLEASE DON'T BE RUDE, OR CRUEL, I'LL RETURN YOU, TO A FROGS LOG, IF YOU PLAN, TO USE MAN, AS A FOOT STOOL. I AM THE SERAPH of SERVITUDE, PLEASE DON'T BE RUDE, OR CRUEL, I'LL RETURN YOU, TO A FROGS LOG, IF YOU PLAN, TO USE MAN, AS A FOOT STOOL. In the still of the night, with the starlight so bright, A chant begins to rise, from the depths of the sky. Echoes of voices, from another time, Weaving through the air, like a sacred rhyme. [Chorus] I am the celestial dream, floating through space, Guided by the light, in this cosmic embrace. break THE chains, wrapped in deception BRING DOWN THE WALLS OF THE LIES OF WAR break THE chains, wrapped in deception BRING DOWN THE WALLS, DO I HEAR YOUR CAUSE?

Lyrics Och, a Theàrlaich òig Stiùbhart, ’s e do chùis rinn mo lèireadh; - - - - - - - - - - - Dark, dark was the day when we looked on Culloden And chill was the mist drop that clung to the tree, The oats of the harvest hung heavy and sodden, No light on the land and no wind on the sea. There was wind, there was rain, there was fire on their faces, When the clans broke the bayonets and died on the guns, And 'tis Honour that watches the desolate places Where they sleep through the change of the snows and the suns. Unfed and unmarshalled, outworn and outnumbered, All hopeless and fearless, as fiercely they fought, As when Falkirk with heaps of the fallen was cumbered, As when Gledsmuir was red with the havoc they wrought. Ah, woe worth you, Sleat, and the faith that you vowed, Ah, woe worth you, Lovat, Traquair, and Mackay; And woe on the false fairy flag of Macloud, And the fat squires who drank, but who dared not to die! Where the graves of Clan Chattan are clustered together, Where Macgillavray died by the Well of the Dead, We stooped to the moorland and plucked the pale heather That blooms where the hope of the Stuart was sped. We stooped to the moorland and plucked the pale heather That blooms where the hope of the Stuart was sped. And a whisper awoke on the wilderness, sighing, Like the voice of the heroes who battled in vain, "Not for Tearlack alone the red claymore was plying, But to bring back the old life that comes not again." Andrew Lang.

Lyrics Och, a Theàrlaich òig Stiùbhart, ’s e do chùis rinn mo lèireadh; - - - - - - - - - - - Dark, dark was the day when we looked on Culloden And chill was the mist drop that clung to the tree, The oats of the harvest hung heavy and sodden, No light on the land and no wind on the sea. There was wind, there was rain, there was fire on their faces, When the clans broke the bayonets and died on the guns, And 'tis Honour that watches the desolate places Where they sleep through the change of the snows and the suns. Unfed and unmarshalled, outworn and outnumbered, All hopeless and fearless, as fiercely they fought, As when Falkirk with heaps of the fallen was cumbered, As when Gledsmuir was red with the havoc they wrought. Ah, woe worth you, Sleat, and the faith that you vowed, Ah, woe worth you, Lovat, Traquair, and Mackay; And woe on the false fairy flag of Macloud, And the fat squires who drank, but who dared not to die! Where the graves of Clan Chattan are clustered together, Where Macgillavray died by the Well of the Dead, We stooped to the moorland and plucked the pale heather That blooms where the hope of the Stuart was sped. We stooped to the moorland and plucked the pale heather That blooms where the hope of the Stuart was sped. And a whisper awoke on the wilderness, sighing, Like the voice of the heroes who battled in vain, "Not for Tearlack alone the red claymore was plying, But to bring back the old life that comes not again." Andrew Lang.

b side.

Assortment Of Sorts

Fkin pain, betrail, wtf

Tragedy / Helplessness / Sorrow / Forgiveness / Cruelty / Hope

Tribute to my brother Billy 'Lee' Fraser. A Highland Scottish Piper / Warrior / Friend / Guru / Truth Seeker