Sopor Aeternus: Children of the Corn (2011)

Children Of The Corn

There's not a shred of beauty here
residing in the human flesh,
there's only sadness and confusion,
and the stench of shit and death.

In moments, dull, of self-pity,
of insufficiency and doubt,
I catch myself, black-handed thief,
wishing that there'd be someone else.

Sometimes ghosts are passing through
the mind, both labyrinth and tomb,
and yet it's still unrivalled here,
Because all things unborn, only ideas,
are sleeping safely far beyond the horrors of decay,
and are thus sacred and immortal, because they never had to fade.

Thumbing at times half-heartedly
through flip-books of a lonely child,
old silent movies shake and flicker
in the dark theatre between my thighs.

Then countless are the heads and limbs that wildly jump atop
soulless bodies, unspecific, as they are numberless and cropped.

When you close your tired eyes,
does he then join you to this place?
Will he cross over, share your dream,
or does he vanish on the doorstep, all too quickly disappear?

Alas, reality is such a crippled whore,
all mortal things are sick and rotten to the core,
only the mind, that frail, but kingly jewel,
gives birth to beauty, love and truth.

Bis Zum Hahnenschrei

Was ist das Geheimnis von
der seltsamen Attraktion,
wenn er auf der Seite liegt,
voll bekleideit, erigiert..?

Mach' die Augen zu
Mach' die Augen zu

Keine Geste und kein Wort
führt seine Gedanken fort.
Wahr ist's schließlich g'rade dann,
wenn's niemals geschehen kann.

Er ist kalt, man sieht den Hauch,
Atem hebt und senkt den Bauch,
aus der dunklen Unterwelt
hat er sich zu mir gesellt...


If i had... oh, if i only had a proper cunt,
I would be delighted to lift my skirt for you.
I would gladly take your hard cock in my hands
And bury it, ever so deeply, in the darkness of my tomb.

Come, my handsome ghost of lust, and masturbate for me,
I promise, it will get you out of your misery.
I have been sleeping on the floor for days... to keep myself from dreaming,
a punishment for things delayed and maybe for disbelieving.

Don't scare away the old crows in the field,
walking in slumber... through rows and rows of corn.
I am madly in love with a sad illusion, don't you see... -
But, then again, aren't we all?

He will build a temple, a temple for your schwanz,
and he will build it with his mouth.
He will chant the poetry, words of heartfelt longing,
all through the lonely midnight hours.

If I had a proper cunt, i'd lift my skirt for you,
I'd take your hard cock in my hands and bury it deeply in my tomb.

The curse of the mummy

Do not drink
the milk he brought.
Old men bear poison
in their hearts.

To Walk Behind The Rows

I climbed the stairs up to his floor
and placed the box outside his door.
I did not speak, said not a word,
left as I came... unseen... unheard.

Threefold the sign that marked this day,
to end a love, one-sided, fey:
the sickle and the morning-star
and the brightest moon... -
O, virgin I, unanswered bride,
Have freed myself from you.

I, like ether,
veiled in shadow and in silver light,
sever all the wicked ties that used to bind me,
bind me to the likes of him.