Dualities of Separated Horizons

by Nemophilist + Mistwalker

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credits

released November 14, 2014

Kristopher Crane - Nemophilist
Greg R. Sweetapple - Mistwalker

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Viridian Records St. John'S, Newfoundland and Labrador

Viridian Records is a collective of artists from Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada who create and perform dark music that reflects the isolated vibes of the province.

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Track Name: Mistwalker - Rupture of the Rapture
What hope do you find?
In false prophecy and lies
Served to you by self-fed hands
Shit on a silver platter, circled by flies

Foretold of the return of a son
To come back to this world
On specified predicted dates
A darkened gospel unfurled

No rapture can save you
Because when you die, that's it
You're fucking dead

Cretins on a static screen
Filling heads with false proof
Living lives of luxury
Hiding their facade uncouth

Monuments built on stolen graves
Money changing dishonest hands
I hope one day it all burns down
Amidst the pulpit where you stand

No rapture can save you
Because when you die, that's it
You're fucking dead

Rupture of the rapture
No tall tales here have come true
Break away from the victim faith
You can't save the squandered youth
Track Name: Mistwalker - Daughter of the River
She swims amongst the reeds
To find what she needs
To plant the seeds
Watch the old forest grow
When those seeds are sewn
Shifting roots in tow
The water maiden's pleased

Hair of golden silk
Wearing green grass dress
Not of elvish ilk
Skin as white as milk
This place has grown to live as her own domain
Her charter drawn in vain
The moon here never wanes

Flowers of every shade
Deep ponds and streams
Where she naked wades
But under care of dearest Tom
No foul darkness creeps forth of the bog
When they're singing their ancient songs

Goldberry is her name
She is the goddess
Of herbs and trees and of this place
Captivated by her voice
Given no choice
Must follow this melodic noise
Until the forest is destroyed
Track Name: Mistwalker - Old Man Willow
The old man sleeps
Beneath the boughs
His eyes never wake
They're only sleeping sound
Roots caress the dirt
Spring up from below
Entrapment entwined
The undertow
The old man sleeps
Beneath the boughs
His eyes never wake
They're only sleeping sound

Moss laden on his limbs
Gnarled twigs and branches lift
Drinking deep of the Brandywine
An ancient heart beats inside