WASTREL
SON’S THOUGHTS
CANDLES FOR GIORDANO BRUNO
AMMO
LOST AND FOUND
WASTREL
Yes, I can't deny the worn-out and truthful
If it's picturesque
Though it’s just a saying…
Not useful
Resolve that great chain of aging and fierce hours
So soon it becomes annoying to us
Yes between her thighs it was nothing
I don't know if she even lives but you...
And I never was in need of touch
Unless it would come through my heart's shape
Not like they who say it in today's fashion
Now you know what's going on with me
Trying to steal the light
And in the evenings a slight chill in the air
I'm still here breathing
Feeling so much better than I was last year
With a curtain of smoke
And in the evenings a slight chill in the air
The welkin not on my mind, Nor anything it covers
SON'S THOUGHTS
For the one my window hides in its view
To enlighten me if my love's real
Or that faith
What's more bitter than the late spring
I forgot to live, Seated in one of their fucking trains
Yes, I forgot to live seated in one of those
And when the world is left
I don't need an inscription to remind for these things
If it's washing away, Well, You know what
Praying on one's knees
Before
Bring salvation for every soul
I forgot to live, Seated in one of their fucking trains
Yes, I forgot to live seated in one of those
When in search of clarity
The way is lost in itself
Gone into its own walker
And every shadow has its bearer of shadow
Every shadow has its bearer of shadow
(A son with the thought of not standing his demise
Still afraid of getting a lethal dis-ease)
And the clauses they were, They were all without reins
Though…
Didn't want to lose, Didn't want to lose my heart
Somewhere in the mists of my blurred daily consciousness
The thought of not standing a dis-ease
CANDLES FOR GIORDANO BRUNO
“Welcome to a dramatic play
Bleed in these arms until the chains are broken"
After all there was something real
When you said you still believe
In what's feeling right
Damn that misanthropy
Full insanity for the earth
Laughing
I know you're frustrated
A moment ago the flames reminded me of something
I won't say it, The candles are now ablaze
But wait for a while
I won't say it
Don't be afraid of the mirror
"For molten candles and for Bruno's throes"
Not present
No, don't draw down
The silver chariot from the sky
No gloomy landscape of wintry frost
Can ever lead me astray again
The candles are now ablaze,
But wait for a while
I won't say it
AMMO
And here's enough of them,
For many a nightly breath
And a fine shelter from the jealous too
The rise of an extinguished art
Higher dreams have come to us
And here's enough of them,
The depressive season
There with sceneries filled with idols
Hell, The space is no more
Who named the crown that fell
What do you think
Who were supposed to make it this time
Yes, Blacken little hearts
(I can't believe my eyes)
You romanticized the depths of this one
The wisdom of men and women says
Those things we can't speak directly of
We must refer to them
What do you think
Who were supposed to make it this time
Yes, Blacken little hearts
LOST AND FOUND
So maybe I lost all youth and tender loving, Afterwards
When I gave in wholly for that thing other and went my way
And the bride's mouth tasted like the word it's called by
But I've always been an oppressive kind of guy
So maybe I lost all youth and tender loving, Afterwards
When I gave in wholly for that thing other and went my way
And the bride's mouth tasted like the word it's called by
But I've always been an oppressive kind of guy
That's right
And they think I'm some kind of a...
Forget it
An early September night in that crooked bar
Tired and angry I was leaving the place
In that crooked bar
There leaning against the wall
Little but just enough
For solace
And how the trees aghast
Over four o'clock
Think about
All the love stories gone awry
To rest for a while
It really saved my evening then
Though nothing much more
And I thought
"It seems like I've found you"
And I thought
"It seems like I've found you"
And I thought
"It seems like I've found you"
And I thought
"It seems like I've found you”
Wastrel
Nick Drake is our man. A few of the lines were stolen from his biography. Other lines I stole from my own Book of Leaves (”Lehdet”). I bought it blank from old Riga in August 2000. I wrote these first five songs for OG during a few days in November 2000, two weeks after saying yes to Markus. But many lines were taken from Pathvvays and "the story that was not sung", thus kind of opening up the themes from the wasted youth (all STL songs have the same). Are there some old Manichean concepts or am I just dreaming? At least we have a real / an unreal Tetragrammatonic journey, but we're no more in a hurry to catch the name of God. It was about time to take a deep breath instead. ”And a spark from the Kingdom of Light was sent to the Kingdom of Darkness, where it worked creating a whirlwind, and lighting them with its own essence of pure love.” This is one way to understand what consequences there could be for stealing the light. Another way is the old Finnish joke about the fools who forgot to build windows to their house and so they try to carry the light in (and the darkness out) with their sacks. What could they do? I think Wastrel has an atmosphere that can be touched. And I was weak, but I had hope. Just like the songs here: weak, but there's hope. You don't find it in too many places these days. I was reaching towards something I did not even believe was real. But I felt its presence, and THAT was something real.
Son's Thoughts
Latvian poet Guntars Godins wrote about the way going into its own walker, when we're in search of clarity, and about the shadows that always have their bearers (but it's a long way back from the shadow to what you really are). The verse appealed to me so heavily in 2000 that it ended up here. And the K-train in Helsinki will be, always and forever more, the very last train to Transcendental. Son's Thoughts used to be the most wanted OG song, but it was difficult to realize why (for us members of the band). I understood later on. Despite all the shame and uncertainty I felt when we recorded STL, it was meant to last.
Candles For Giordano Bruno
Candles is a song title from October-November 1997
Here we have words from Deathwhite (November 1996) and from some other poems (written in 1997). This song used to be called Candlelight before I came along, and so I just added Giordano Bruno to my own, almost similar title of old, to make it sound right. Bruno was a mathemagician who was burned at the stake in 1600. I'd been reading some of his books earlier that year. It made a perfect match, to lit the flames. Even though this song has nothing to do with Bruno.
Ammo
An old song title from September-October 1997
This is the Rise of an Extinguished Art, striving hard to find some light after a season of depression and frustration. Higher dreams have come to replace the sceneries filled with idols. The wisdom of men & women says, we must refer to those things we can't speak directly of. I dreamed of mythic consciousness in November 2000, while trying to recall the days of the first Ammo. Raising positive vibes with a Nietzschean spirit in 1997 had fallen flat. Our "shooter" has come to learn this, and the truth that there's more to it than....
Lost & Found
or Lost And Found
This was the only song title I didn't change when I joined the band (until the other members of OG forced me to do it, after seeing the pictures of naked men on the wall). For a few years Lost & Found was my favourite bar in Helsinki. Then I stopped going out. Nothing wrong with the place. Is it a gay or a sad thing to realize what you have lost, being "an oppressive kind of guy". The early September night happened in 2000, and everything went as it is written down here. The trees were aghast over four o'clock, listening to our stories gone awry. And as we walked the autumn streets to her apartment in Töölö, I fell in love with the scenery on the way. After a few months I found myself living in the same neighbourhood. (For Hanna V.)
 | ||||