THEATRE OF TRAGEDY
Velvet Darkness They Fear
©1996 Massacre Records

1. Velvet Darkness They Fear
2. Fair And 'Guiling Copesmate Death
3. Bring Forth Ye Shadow
4. Seraphic Deviltry
5. And When He Falleth
6. Der Tanz Der Schatten
7. Black As The Devil Painteth
8. On Whom The Moon Doth Shine
9. The Masquarader And Phoenix














Velvet Darkness They Fear

Music by Theatre of Tragedy

Fair and 'guiling copesmate death

Play by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy




 Gaunt and gnarl'd
Reflecteth the silver shield this welkin aghast,
And with haste translateth to gild'd black post and fast.
«Anon - anon, say I! - the lid aside,
Crawl without this velvet-clad coffin blest, 		 
The bottom sand of the hourglass is at tide,
'Tis and hath e'er been merry blood to pest -
To be adust for time longer can I not bide,
Hence the heart hale out thro' the chest!		 «Sensing this pine is as deep as the deepest chasm,
Hither! - cede and fulfil my phantasm!
Cherish me and sonorously do me laud -
For dread! - thine eyes will behold a guise faugh'd.»
Misery thee?! - Rather misery me! -
For in Time's durance am I naught but wee.»
 
  «This tender and loving pest I to thee bequeath,
Thence swiftly wilt thou errant to 'Neath.»
«And to me should'st thou be the humblemost knave,
Lest fear! - spit I on thy cist and grave! -
Lest leer I at thee and do bewitch,
And the tharms fluttering claw'd and eldritch.»		  
  «To conquer thee and thy blood for glore
Art thou my afeard and reluctant whore;
Irksomely coy, save wiliéd by alarum,
Bear this torture and maim with decorum.»

«If e'er always was I this blissful and blithe
Would I resign to but its wee tithe.»		  
  «Purvey my ache and quench my profoundest urge,
And to thee will I sing the lull-dull dirge;
Deliver thy blood like the rill filleth the ghyll.»
«Burrow to the trothplight with the Night and Devil! -
Bid Him to league with me - forsooth, merry to 'come 'twill.»		  
  «Whilom wast thou vestal, yet now flit to thy tryst,
Elsewise will I coerce thine consonantry to turn whist;
Grasp I the snath and cut off thine breath,
«Death - oh! fair and 'guiling copesmate Death,
Be not a malais'd beggar; claim this bloody jester!»
So that thou canst in darkness and inferno vester,
For do I solely what He to me liefly saith.»


Bring forth ye shadow

Poem by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy & Pål Bjåstad


Time is an abyss -
Profound as a thousand nights;
I sejourn my haste, I make respites
For what availeth this eager pace?
One stop more naught to face
Save the heirloom fatal kiss.
I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate,
For lo! my own shall ne'er come to me
Yet! - Who doth my future narrate?
Dim the lights - I cannot see!
Bring forth ye Shadow!
With whom danceth thou?
Time hath stopp'd -
Yet for others ne'er halteth;
For me the Pages of Life do not turn
Lo! - on the funeral pyre they burn.
The oh so eating Velvet Darkness they fear -
Heed! - wherefore delve a burrow
When in my arms "O! Come here"?
I say elsewhither is naught but sorrow!
For what deemest thou so dear thy blood
When through my veins it could flood? -
Bide to merry-make me unaptly;
And dance grant me the fell gift
The gift of passing on the dark trick
'is such a braze act of erotic:
Trifle for thee, yet for me grandly thrift
O! such an innocence depriv'd hastily -
Alas for what deemest thou so dear thy blood
When through my veins it will flood?

Seraphic Deviltry

(Soliloguy by Raymond, Music by Theatre Of Tragedy)


Whether He the quaint savant's doth hold I know not,
Albeil aetal a thousand stars 'birth He is -
Quoth I that for reasons to me oblivious
August of a granditude of servants is He hold,
And by plastic consonantry e'en more servants to the host added are
-
Pelf they are, dare I say!
Maugre His diurnal seraphic deviltry
I say that deviltry - 'lis forsooth deviltry! -
Mind not this in sointillating shades clad is:
To claim the glore is He suffer'd
"Grant me the fatlings", qouth He, "the fatter the better".
And died they of starvation:
They are not slaughtering their fatlings -
They are slaughtering themselves.
Sith I at time of yester the questions durst ask
And dare I say this burhen weightful was
Wrack of His mechine-like motion was I named
The 'blind and font He jester rebuilt
The machine alike - now whetted and dight are its edges...

And when he falleth

(Play by Raymond, Music by Theatre Of Tragedy & Pal Bjastad)


  «Be my kin free fro carnal sin
Bridle the thoughts of thy Master»
«There hath past away a glore fro the Earth;
A glore that in the hearts and minds of men,
Men dmented - blinfolded by light.
Hourisheth as weed in their welt-goom'd garths»		  
«Might I too was blindfoldéd ere,
Tho' years have master'd me
A masque of this to fashion:
Sëer blest, thou best philosopher!» 		«The quality of mercy and absolution,
Whence cometh such qualities?
Build thyself a mirror in which
Solely wanton images of thy desire appear!»
«'Tis the divine comedy -
The fool and the mocking court:
Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!:
We hold the Earth fro Heaven away.» 		«'Tis the divine tragedy -
The fool and the mocking court:
Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!:
Make us guffaw at thy futile follies,
  Yet for our blunders - Oh, in shame;
Earth beareth no balm for mistakes -
We hold the Earth fro Hell away.»
Dialog taken from the film "The Masque of the red death" with Vincent Price (1964)  
That cross you wear around your neck;
is it only a decoration, or are you a
true Christian believer?		  
  Yes, I believe - truly
Then I want you to remove it at once!
- and never to wear it within this castle
again!
Do you know how a falcon is trained my dear?
Her eyes are sown shut.
Blinded temporarily she suffers the whims of
her God patiently, until her will is
submerged and she learns to serve -
as your God taught and blinded you with
crosses.		  
  You had me take off my cross because it offended....
It offended no-one. No - it simply appears
to me to be discourteous to... to wear
the symbol of a deity long dead.
My ancestors tried to find it. And to open
the door that seperates us from our Creator.

 
  But you need no doors to find God. If you believe....
Believe?! If you believe you are gullible.
Can you look around this world and believe in the goodness of a god who rules it?
Famine, Pestilence, War, Disease and Death! They rule this world. 		 
  There is also love and life and hope.
Very little hope I assure you.
No. If a god of love and life ever did exist... he is long since dead.
Someone... something rules in his place.		  
«Believe? In a deity long dead? -
I would rather be a pagan suckléd in creeds outworn;
With faërtytales fill'd up in head:
Thoughts of the Book stillborn.» 		 
  «Shadow of annoyance -
Ne'er come hither! ...
And when He falleth, He falleth like Lucifer,
Ne'er to ascend again...»


Der tanz der schatten

(Schauspiel von Raymond (Von I.Wolff & G.Magin korrigiert,
Music von Theatre Of Tragedy & Pal Bjastad)


«Meine Augen sind so dunkel,
Auch sind die Visionen schwarz,
Schwarz wie die Nacht;
Der Dämmerzustand des Menschen -
Ist meine Zeit des Daseins.» 		«Gleichwohl hast du deine Augen versteckt
Lichtschein hinter der Dunkelheit;
Ein Licht das mir gezeigt hat,
Daß du von Angst erfüllt bist.
Erzähle mir bitte
  Warum du diese Angst in Dir trägst?!»
«Ich bin so alleine;
Einsamkeit in Ewigkeit -
Gedanken nur für mich,
Mit dem Schatten flüstere ich -
Mit dem Schatten tanze ich -
Einsam wandere ich,
Das Blut begehre ich: Totentanz.»		  
«Den tödlichen Kuß zu empfangen;
Folge der Finsternis in das Nichts! -
Süßer Nektar auf deinen Lippen;
Ein Rinnsal blutfeuchtes Leben,
Ich lecke die Liebe aus deinem Gesicht, 		«Tanze nicht mehr mit dem Schatten,
Tanze bitte nicht über das Grab;
Tanze mit mir den Walzer Luzifers.
Ich sehne mich deine Braut zu sein
- Um zu Finsternis zu werden.»
Ich lecke den Haß aus deinem Gesicht..»  
«Ein so berauschendes Gefühl:
Meine bittere Existenz zu schmecken!» 		«Für immer und unendlich:
Ein Seelsorger deiner bin ich.»
  «Laß mich Deinen Kuß begrüßen:
Den selbstzerstörerischen Kuß...»
«Gebe dich mir hin!,
Ich war von Trauer erfüllt,		  
Ich war so untröstlich,
Doch du hast die Liebe entfacht...» 		«...Bis ich sterbe, umarme mich,
Und ich werde wieder auferstehen...
  Ich liebe dich...»


Black as the devil painteth

(Poem by Raymond, Music by Theatre Of Tragedy)


An artist is what is call d the self that the brush holdeth -
Though hath it then caringly caress'd the Canvas of tomorrow?,
O Canvas! for thee I hold my tool - still! passionless it quivereth,
Minding not that my hands are more than apt;
My Muse.
Where is hidden
The blue-hued arch'beneath the High Heaven's rich emblazonry,
The flowery meadow, embrac'd by the horizon - snowflaked and aery mountains,
In which the barebreasted maidens dance to the lay o' midsummer,
Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore.
O canvas!, wherefore canst thou these images not allow? -
I deem a projection of my theatre they should be! -
Then, I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine -
What is this unforseen that not enjoineth light shades to skillfully be
painted?
The raven sky prey'd on by the snowfilled, blustery clouds,
Unadorned the meadow - hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood,
The maidens chained and whipped within the dreary dungeon -
And, lo!' twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave:
"The devil is as black as he painteth." -
O Canvas! wherefore?...

On whom the monn doth shine

(Play by Raymond, Music by Theatre Of Tragedy)


  «O soft embalmer of ye still midnight,
Allow me thee to adown,
Of any sort thou fancieth;
Each holdeth its own fancy, I say -
Yet the pleasure we partake in
Was caus'd by the fang'd grin,
Save!, do I for him anger hold?:
Nay - I knew I was fey!»
«Had I what it taketh, I would do;
I sense - I cannot sense,
I am - yet! I am not -
Once I kiss'd the image
Of the Seven Angels of Death...»		  
  «Yet as thou so didst,
On my lips a kiss landéd,
And with the shadows blendéd
The tendermost silken mourn.;
In which the light hidden is -
Yon Hell's brazen doors
Wrothfully it trieth to push.»

«Then, lo! the Bleak Death,
Serpent-like 'twixt the breasts crept:		  
Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath,
Together red tears they wept,
And pass'd the procession of dancers dead -
As in darkness were we lock'd in wed.» 		«Hush'd with a gasp of life's breath,
Together red tears we wept - in vain,
And pass'd the procession of dancers dead -
As in darkness were we lock'd in wed:
  I kiss'd the Seven Angels of Death.»
«And Hell open'd its doors,  
Yet what was 'fore my eyes
But if not the brightest light.» 		«Yet what was 'fore my eyes
But if not the brightest light.»


The masquerader and phoenix

(Poem by Raymond, Music by Theatre Of Tragedy)


Hist! - The sonorous orchestral ambience and the arabesque-stane'd ballerina,
Her wee feet in an alactric maelstrom - twirl,
And the dust-hurl with her tears blendeth - Egad! this quagimire;
Pasteth her unaptly apt feet to the stage:
Like the wither'd rose of the luciferous Eden
By the mummer'd-masquaradere spied vigilly and mockingly,
His behesting visage, the'ruddily mummer'd tis -
Embower'd and eddying oft and oft gloam by gloam,
Her sweetness ne'er cloy - further! further! -
His scratching and dallying hollow - hearted eyes
Her breasts and vestal heart caress.
And like the dove and bird of prey leapeth she aerily,
Whileas the orchestralem on travailingly;
His one and sole swath
With the pizzicate'd ensemble blendeth -
And her umbreal foetal scream -
As the song climaxeth
And slowly dieth
Away...