1. |
The City in the Sea
02:53
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Edgar Allan Poe - The City in the Sea
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Wherethe good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently—
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free—
Up domes—up spires—up kingly halls—
Up fanes—up Babylon-like walls—
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of scultured ivy and stone flowers—
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol’s diamond eye—
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass—
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea—
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave—there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrown aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide—
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow—
The hours are breathing faint and low—
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
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2. |
Oh Edgar
03:10
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Oh Edgar
Oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a seizure in his mind
The emanations of infected pus
But we are more than mere alcohol drenched fever dreams
We are the truth beyond the cosmic veil the dimensional barrier
We stand at the other side of reality, smashing for aeons
And the cracks begin to show, more and more.......
The light that we let through
Burns the eyes and mind of lesser mortals
But Edgar in his madness saw us
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a ruptured eardrum, healing strangely
Hearing new sounds, mutatedly
We were his melted eyeballs, ever reforming and seeing anew
But oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were the pain which charges the mind
We were his heart ablaze, pumping with the spirit of flange
His words inspired by us, explosions, enlargening the cracks
Infecting more with our mutating light
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
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3. |
A Dream within a Dream
01:32
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Edgar Allan Poe - A Dream within a Dream
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
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4. |
The Edgar of Reason
03:43
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The Edgar of Reason
Oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a seizure in his mind
The emanations of infected pus
But we are more than mere alcohol drenched fever dreams
We are the truth beyond the cosmic veil the dimensional barrier
We stand at the other side of reality, smashing for aeons
And the cracks begin to show, more and more.......
The light that we let through
Burns the eyes and mind of lesser mortals
But Edgar in his madness saw us
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a ruptured eardrum, healing strangely
Hearing new sounds, mutatedly
We were his melted eyeballs, ever reforming and seeing anew
But oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were the pain which charges the mind
We were his heart ablaze, pumping with the spirit of flange
His words inspired by us, explosions, enlargening the cracks
Infecting more with our mutating light
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
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5. |
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Lost in the Maelström!
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6. |
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The Tell Tell Bells (Oh Edgar)
Oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a seizure in his mind
The emanations of infected pus
But we are more than mere alcohol drenched fever dreams
We are the truth beyond the cosmic veil the dimensional barrier
We stand at the other side of reality, smashing for aeons
And the cracks begin to show, more and more.......
The light that we let through
Burns the eyes and mind of lesser mortals
But Edgar in his madness saw us
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a ruptured eardrum, healing strangely
Hearing new sounds, mutatedly
We were his melted eyeballs, ever reforming and seeing anew
But oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were the pain which charges the mind
We were his heart ablaze, pumping with the spirit of flange
His words inspired by us, explosions, enlargening the cracks
Infecting more with our mutating light
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
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7. |
Annabel Lee
02:48
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Edgar Allan Poe - Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me--
Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
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8. |
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Oh Edgar (Demon Strata Slum)
Oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a seizure in his mind
The emanations of infected pus
But we are more than mere alcohol drenched fever dreams
We are the truth beyond the cosmic veil the dimensional barrier
We stand at the other side of reality, smashing for aeons
And the cracks begin to show, more and more.......
The light that we let through
Burns the eyes and mind of lesser mortals
But Edgar in his madness saw us
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a ruptured eardrum, healing strangely
Hearing new sounds, mutatedly
We were his melted eyeballs, ever reforming and seeing anew
But oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were the pain which charges the mind
We were his heart ablaze, pumping with the spirit of flange
His words inspired by us, explosions, enlargening the cracks
Infecting more with our mutating light
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
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9. |
The Raven
08:08
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Edgar Allan Poe - The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door—
"‘Tis some visitor," I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir," said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely," said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless," said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch," I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
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10. |
Edgar (Quoth the Lotan)
02:42
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Edgar (Quoth the Lotan)
Oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a seizure in his mind
The emanations of infected pus
But we are more than mere alcohol drenched fever dreams
We are the truth beyond the cosmic veil the dimensional barrier
We stand at the other side of reality, smashing for aeons
And the cracks begin to show, more and more.......
The light that we let through
Burns the eyes and mind of lesser mortals
But Edgar in his madness saw us
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were a ruptured eardrum, healing strangely
Hearing new sounds, mutatedly
We were his melted eyeballs, ever reforming and seeing anew
But oh how Edgar worshipped us
We were the pain which charges the mind
We were his heart ablaze, pumping with the spirit of flange
His words inspired by us, explosions, enlargening the cracks
Infecting more with our mutating light
And oh how Edgar worshipped us
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Flange Zoo London, UK
Flange Zoo: a troop of musical mythical animals who first manifest on 1st April 2012. Crypto-zoological fiends making full
use of multi-effects, stylophones, rolands, and other amplified interferences. Search for The Flange Zoo Bestiary @ www.lulu.com
Flange Zoo are Tiger Gnome (Calum F. Kerr) and Lotan the Destroyer (Phillip Raymond Goodman) and from 2012-2018 Kitsune Tsukai (Miyuki Kasahara)
... more
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