Presented through an amazing dark art from Zbigniew Bielak, “Age Of Excuse”, the fourth full length from Polish black metallers MGŁA, has been made available for streaming in full!
The mesmerizing 6 tracks clock 42 minutes and come in a nice jewelcase CD with 8 pages booklet. Vinyl version will come later in 2019, so stay tuned for more details on that! Meanewhile, immerse yourself inside this dense universe of darkness and beauty.
Lyrics:
I
A species had been armed with a double edged blade
A guardless weapon of delusion
Forged of a mirage of inherent transcendence
In the tangled mechanisms of life itselfAs the curtain is being unraveled
The ego writhes in a spasm of insight
Delighted gods grunt like pigs
At the mere notion of a raison d’etreFrom the gardens of Semiramis
To the trenches of Ypres
A meaningless uproarSublime truths are revealed
In the hammering of hobnailed jackboots
And there’s wisdom to be found
In the shameful epitaphs of cowardsFrom the gardens of Semiramis
To the trenches of Ypres
From the grounds of Comitium
To the cellars of Tuol Sleng
From the spores of presence
And a swarm of pest
Unto the ironies of beingFalling hopes whip the ground
Among laments of sunken millennia
There are no paths to follow
But a nightmare of endless repetitionThose who peruse the annals of humanity
Demanding patterns, connections, developments:
Were there any to be found?
And was it sapience indeed that kept pushing this broken cart?The wonders
The misery
The ascent
The emptinessFalling hopes whip the ground
Among laments of sunken millennia
There are no paths to follow
But a nightmare of endless repetitionII
The stench of zeitgeist
Is the incense of discarded shrines
As the corpses put on powder and rouge
So that the hoax can proceed, ever sidewards
A cheaped out incarnation into a shopworn sarx
The soul congeals into a grimy lump –
Substance of the world, dreary and pale
At the feet of a spirit detachedBetween the grinder and the abattoir
Such are the landscapes of grief
Grayness and glitz
Glitter and gehinnomBetween tedium and fright
Such is the song of the nether world
The hissing of rats
And the jarring chants of angelsA sacrifice to the gutter gods
Squandered redemption, misplaced grace
As an ailing mole burrowing in Eden
Living breathing downfallBetween the grinder and the abattoir
Such are the landscapes of grief
Grayness and glitz
Glitter and gehinnomBetween tedium and fright
Such is the song of the nether world
The hissing of rats
And the jarring chants of angelsIt’s a land of sun gone down
In comical grandeur
A sluggish danse macabre
Hyenas waltzing aboutWould a new flood please finally come
A real rain and an assortment of plagues
And when all is said and done
Even the Devil won’t care enough to spit in the mudIII
Out of howling of prophets
And curses of the righteous
In the ivory halls
A new kind of champion is bredHerostrates for the modern day
High on good conscience
A noblest of sufferers
On disinformation highwayAt the end of the day it’s the same old script:
Do you believe in victory or do you hail defeatThose finaglers of justice
Expert wrights in deceit
Carvers of the crooked timber
And their finely tuned farce
Proclaiming anger and rage
Under the mortal threat it thrivesAt the end of the day it’s the same old script:
Do you believe in victory or do you hail defeatErsatz revolt
Ersatz rebellionFor a new world would come
Every once in a while
“Purer”, “brighter”, “clearer”, “better”And the last of misbelievers
Will be trampled in the greatest of marches
Toward the radiant future
Where sheep are promised fangsAnd only after the graves are filled
With remains of dissidents
And the frame of reference is torched
Together with forbidden thoughtsThen, and only then
The disciple is relieved
The true believer has overcome the evils
Of engineering of dissentAt the bottom of things it’s the same old script:
Do you believe in victory or do you hail defeatErsatz revolt
Ersatz rebellionFor a new world would come
Every once in a while
“Purer”, “brighter”, “clearer”, “better”Ersatz purpose
Ersatz alliance
Ersatz ideals
Ersatz communionIV
Ground zero of transgression:
Whether ironic distance is true subversion
As it is carved in the structure
Of the system being opposedTherefore the language of the scourge
Should be instilled in further discourse
The language of strife and hunger
In a state of relentless panic
Henceforth the struggle takes form
Of an absolute order, a total institution
The clandestine laws of the night
Should be exposed in broad daylightMocked by many – known by the few
The arsonists of perpetual aporiaAcknowledge the presence of a sinister side
That reaches far and wide beneath the surface
Acknowledge that there are aspects of self
Only to be revealed in burning, blinding hatredThe blades shall be sharpened
Upon gravestones of “kind” hearted
The measures shall be chosen
For maximum impact upon illusion of safety
The ordnance which will tear
Into the heart of daydream
Shall become the testament
Of the hopeless quest of prelest prophetsAcknowledge healthy confusion, the dirt behind the reverie
Unearth madness and probe into the absurd
Deconstruct with no promise of a restore pattern
And become free through the truth of the prelest prophetsV
The gruesome caravan is crawling in circles
Around pillars of cold grey light
Pale horse is there, but the rider’s away on business
And the lion went roaring somewhere else
It’s a begging time for dissolution
The commodity of ultimate silence on public display
The living dead stare at the gaping void
Waiting for the blade to finally come down
Not just yetThere’s still innards to be ripped out
And hanged between the sacred trees
Bones to be broken, eyes to be plucked
For the amusement of a drooling godBorn again in a tidal wave of filth
Amidst chants of suffocating angels
An offering to a ravenous idol
That’ll take more pleasure in puking it outGnawed and spat out
Still good enough for lowbrow vultures
Torn and led astray
Fed scraps of hope until the banal endA bargain pilgrimage to the heart of darkness
The stay got extended quite a good bit
View is always the same: sorrow upon sorrow
And the orchestra keeps playing same song on repeatA canticle arranged for gnashing of teeth
Howling of hearts and cracking of spines
And there’s a hundred eager razors
Underneath the conductor’s suitGnawed and spat out
Still good enough for lowbrow vultures
Torn and led astray
Fed scraps of hope until the banal endIn this rotten excuse for a world
At the bottom of the dustbin of history
Let’s just try and pretend
That our corpses still have some classThe cold light
The gaping void
The final silence
At the fingertipsThe cold light
The gaping void
The broken cycle
Not just yetVI
Forever uphill atop the remains
Of missed chances, of hope and innocence
The withered bones of those who failed
But more so of those who didn’t even try
Bursting through the barbed thickets
Sharp with guilt, deceit and shame
To the petty truths buried underneath
Layers and layers of drivel and mudIn this day and age
The litanies of overskurkens moral
Are the only prayers to be heard these days
And all those who dreamt about a True Revolution
Got distracted by hurting each otherWhat has to be done, has to be done
The human nature is what it is
We cover our eyes in a call to arms
And turn one edge toward ourselvesArm in arm in this futile strife
Where cards are marked and odds are little to none
Hand in hand with fate worse than death
Relentless in discontentIn this day and age
Empires get wrecked
Principles get crushed
Saviors get crucified
History gets what?
History fucking gets over it allAnd the assassins in rose tinted glasses
At the wrong end of the tunnel of light
Practitioners of paramount scorn
And those who’d rig moral compass rather than bridgesBehold the world and spit on it
The noble and the scum of the earth
Just out of some basic damned dignity
In this day and age of excuseWhat has to be done, has to be done
The human nature is what it is
We cover our eyes in a call to arms
And turn one edge toward ourselvesArm in arm in this futile strife
Where cards are marked and odds are little to none
Hand in hand with fate worse than death
Relentless in discontentWhat has to be done, has to be done
The human nature is what it is
We cover our eyes in a call to arms
And turn one edge toward ourselves