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IN THE SIGHT OF VULTURES

by In The Sight Of Vultures

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1.
The crow wants to fly away The roots prevent it from leaving Is the rope the only ending In a world painted in dark gray? Oh baby there is no cage No need for the rage The ties aren’t no fetter Life could be better Tie the rope to my heart I promise it won’t hurt It won’t be a burden Worst things have happen Just make your mind peaceful And spin in the air with my soul Won’t you leave all this doom and gloom In a forever locked room? I’ll be the keeper of the key The one here to make you happy Your wild heart can’t be tamed Your eyes seem afraid But when you feel this anger Remember you’re not in danger Oh baby there is no cage. No need for the rage. The ties aren’t no fetter. Don’t you see life could be better? Will you cut the rope? Will you tear the roots apart? And let me fall? (All alone!) Don’t cut the rope! Don’t tear the roots apart! Don’t let me fall! (All alone!)
2.
Lost in sea in the night With a hole in my jacket No one within hearing No light within sight I’m tossed around by waves Relentless and endless Man overboard There’s a man overboard Slowly drowning Quietly dying Abandoned by the ship I feel a hand in the back Pushing me down Pushing me down to the dark Now I feel under me Now I feel under me, the sharks Man overboard There’s a man overboard Slowly drowning Quietly dying My body is freezing cold There’s not a wood to hold The chin under the surface A scarred look on the face I now hope for the better As my head sinks under water Man overboard There’s a man overboard Slowly drowning Quietly dying
3.
The Storm 04:58
There is a storm approaching The air is full of electricity Everything is quiet and peaceful The calm before the storm The sun has disappeared Chased away by raindrops Away screams the thunder There is a storm approaching There is no escape This is way too late Now the storm roars Crushing every little thing The wind blows in all directions Unavoidable catastrophe There will be blood and pain Deep scars will remain And we both are prisoners Of our violent nature Building our own penitentiaries Feeding the clouds of our personalities
4.
Clouds 06:26
The moon is gone but the sun is hiding. The clouds are masking the light. Like covered by ashes, everything is gray. The darkness expands over cities, trees and lives. Some sparks shine like mirrors in the sky. Sunrays piercing through clouds like flames through smoke. The twilight only conceals the fire that burns my soul and spirit. The clouds
5.
He was bored of water Feeling seasick for ever He got back to the harbor And hits the road evermore He enjoyed the soil under his feet Took pleasure walking on it The wind was rid of the salt Laying on a calm asphalt But very quickly He felt so lonely Like he was missing The most important thing The ground can’t bring no surprise No more spark in his eyes Riding is no travelling There’s nothing like sailing And he missed the ocean so bad That for once he was so sad And he thought of his lost ship That he began to worship But very quickly He felt so lonely Like he was missing The most important thing A sailor’s place is in the waves The ground is full of graves He stopped to struggle Flew like an eagle And returned to the sea The only place he wants to see
6.
Day after day, year after year, you dance. Skilled and quick you move so easily, From here to there at a glance. And trying to stop you is silly. Incessant choreography. Tones of an old photography. Wrapped in a white twirling dress. By shadows you are oppressed. You’re dancing with ghosts. Brushing them and leaving. You’re dancing with hosts That a day you were killing. You’re dancing alone. Ghosts have not a single bone. Far away is reality. You dance alone for eternity. You’re dancing with ghosts. Brushing them and leaving. You’re dancing with hosts That a day you were killing.
7.
Let me tell you a story about a man. About his travel. His travel through life. He was struggling in a giant desert for years. A damn cold desert, a frozen place where nothing lives. Snowy mountains, frozen path, an infinite trip into the wild. He kept walking with no other destination than his own death. His body was still trying when his mind had given up for a long time. In this ice-cold landscape he finally saw a shelter on a hilltop. It was far away on the horizon but it gave him strength and will. He fought so hard to reach it. The way was harsh and long. But he finally got there and warmed his limbs and heart. He spent some time there, enjoying his new home. Happy and carefree. One morning, he noticed a tiny hole in the roof and pretended it wasn’t serious. He thought he could fix it later. He remained focused on himself and didn’t pay attention to the house falling into ruin. Piece of wood after piece of wood. Stone after stone. One day the building was completely down and he was totally devastated realizing he was back in the blizzard. He could do nothing more than continue to walk alone, exhausted, freezing and depressing. His life finally had been only a spell in the wilderness, a row of failures and mistakes, from beginning to the end. Don’t be that man.
8.
The End 06:57
The leaf was bright, not like a life that never was. The pen has darken it as the pain flowed. The lead forms letters as blades form scars. I write on papers my conflicts and inner wars. I’ve never been able to draw a straight line. I’ve never been able to make you mine. Paragraphs after paragraphs, I remember the moments we shared. This day when, so long, at each other, we stared. The special smile you’d make when without talking we’d understand. I remember your hair floating in the air. I remember the freshness of the breeze, which would blush your nose and cheeks. And for sure my heart would freeze when you were away for weeks. Those words are brushes painting our memories. They are the souvenirs, and witnesses. Can we forget all this as easily as I’ve crumpled pages? Can we start over once again like I’ve rewrote some sentences? Is there still a choice to make? I know it’s too late. No, everything is finished. Everything is vanished. It’s written in our book, engraved on our tombstones. Maybe one day my love, maybe one day we will meet again. A tear drops on the letter, Round as a period. It is time to write “Goodbye”. I sign, fold the paper. Close the envelope. Stand-up, ready for the last departure, The final journey to the unknown, End of this story. Full-stop.

credits

released June 26, 2018

All songs written, composed, arranged and recorded by In The Sight Of Vultures.

Violin on Dancing with Ghosts and The End performed by Cecilia Schreiber.
Mastered by James Plotkin.
Logo, visual art and concept by David SC.
Behance : www.behance.net/davidjpeg4b5e
FB : www.facebook.com/davidscblackink/

inthesightofvultures@gmail.com

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about

In The Sight Of Vultures France

In The Sight Of Vultures is a two-piece project. It is dark folk, acoustic blues with beautiful and strong atmospheres.
With members of :
- Cult of Occult
- War Anyway
- Atomic Trip

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