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DEAD CAN DANCE - THE SERPENT'S
EGG
1988 - 4AD - CAD 808 CD
The Host of Seraphim
Orbis De Ignis
Severance
The Writing on my Father's Hand
In the Kingdom of the Blind the One-Eyed are Kings
Chant of the Paladin
Song of Sophia
Echolalia
Mother Tongue
Voices: Lisa Gerrard, Brendan Perry, David Navarro Sust
Hurdy-gurdy: Brendan Perry
Violin: Alison Harling, Rebecca Jackson
Viola: Sarah Buckley, Andrew Beesley
Violincello: Tony Gamage
Written by Lisa Gerrard and Brendan Perry
Tracks 3,4,5,6,8 and 9 produced by Dead Can Dance
Tracks 1,2,7 and 10 produced by Dead Can Dance and John A. Rivers
Insert by Brendan Perry and Vaughan Oliver (V23)
Lyrics © 1988 Beggars Banquet Music/Momentum Music
In Loving Memory of Susan O'Reilly
Severance,
The birds of leaving call to us,
yet here we stand
endowed with the fear of flight.
Overland
the winds of change consume the land,
while we remain
in the shadow of summers now past.
When all the leaves
have fallen and turned to dust,
will we remain
entrenched within our ways.
Indifference,
the plague that moves throughout this land
Omen signs
in the shapes of things to come.
Tomorrow's child is the only child.
If it were within our power,
beyond the reach of slavish pride.
To no longer harbour grievances,
behind the mask's opportunists facade.
We could welcome the responsibilty
like a long lost friend,
and re-establish the kingdom of laughter
in the dolls house once again.
For time has imprisoned us
in the order of our years,
in the discipline of our ways
and in the passing of momentary stillness
we can see our chaos in motion
our chaos in motion
we can see our chaos in motion
our chaos in motion
view our chaos in motion
and the subsequent collisions of fools
well versed in the subtle art of slavery.
With one wish we wake the will
within wisdom.
With one will we wish the wisdom
within waking.
Woken, wishing, willing.
John Francis Dooley
wipe the sleep from your eyes
and embrace the light.
You have slept now
for a thousand years
beneath starless nights.
And now its time for you
to renounce the old ways
and see a new dawn rise.
In former days
the masks were raised
when the god came down
from off the mountain,
and a sacrifice was made
for they knew the day of wrath
was fast apporaching.
Just like yesterday, before the war
John Francis Dooley
the scapegoat has run
all our sins are disowned,
and now it's time for you
to take off thy mask
and cross the Rubicon.
If you and I were one
within the eyes of our designs
it would still not change
the fact of our leaving.
For tonight we must leave
with the first gentle breeze
for the Isles of Ken we are assailing
Just like Ullyses, on an open sea.
On an oddysey of self discovery.