THE COLLIBRO

Released April 10, 2010

All songs are composed, arranged and authored by LISERSTILLE.
Produced by LISERSTILLE
Recorded at desolate lodge somewhere in Denmark
Mixed and Mastered by Magnus Líndberg

FROM ``THE COLLIBRO`` 2010

THE REAL CHILDREN

LYRICS

All The Blood

No one knows, at the time, if the steam is frozen. We reside on a moon, and all the blood is frozen.

Send In The Scouts

There’s a prayer in the night and someone out there’s feeling lonely, and it’s coming out here. Someone’s sunken so deep in the canister, that they’re rolling dices to claim the eye. The ruby eye, wall of eyes! ‘Slave Train’s bringing us outlaws in a comfortable make-out, slave how you make out! The merchant is leading the prelude, screaming the prelude. They’re all in a prayer state and the choir is golden in this land of the lonely…

Soon we’ll be left to the eye.

Oh send in the scouts, beware the scoundrel, for I am your captain and you will answer to me! Ride out, ride out! Ride out with me! Witness that the only thing we fear, it is truly fear it self.

Recalling The Color

We will conquer the shadow and be rid the beggars too. When the pain is collateral, you recall the colour you knew. For the king has disciples, and for which of reasons are you?

We abandon the city in which we stand so tall, and we’ll flee for the country until we’re damned, and damned we will be.

I want to eat your cum. and love I will swallow. Oh love I will swallow.

Like a Common Wave

There’s a wall bejewelled with eyes, and a common wave becomes a dreadful tide. Will a morning come and every sorrow die?

Shards Of The Ending

Stand your ground! Do not try to shake me! Remind the hounds that I depart my chapel and reach out for this pink hole!

Through the torment you will wield shards of the ending, and no one’s ever going to feel alone by the ending. The sea moves me, the sea sees. The sea moves me, the sea bleeds, it bleeds red, and the faith is a remnant. Who flees the beacon? I’m paroled and within mercy. Your skin is attuned to the mirror, but for the rose I bleed fire, and your thighs burn the cradle. There is no! There is no! There is no Collibro, and I propose to each and every sinner!

Make doom immortal.

I’m not a captive to the agents. I’m a son of life and when I hang below the country I, the cowboy arise. And I tell you I will never eat the veil your child produced in the kingdom of the four legged king, and all right size shoes.

Through The Quest Of Your Designs

When did you sleep in across these paler plains? Around these blooming sins our roads will meet again… We will meet again. The lights have all gone cold in the shades of your appeals. The country burns its fields. Welcome to this century…

Our years of vacancy failing, and I see no relief or endurance through this town.

Howling hurricanes and shrieking waves, wave beneath the pale white man. The captain turns her hands, but nothing but your entrance bleeds. That is why you’re colourless inside of me. Why go there? We’ve already become your grave and your cradle.

Collibro be our guest of honour tonight, under this jelly moon, and we will spew into this world a prayer that keeps us walking storms like sheep below the shepherd!

Know your sheets are red, and sleep release the pain of death. Your seeds will not grow in this shadow. There’s a shadow…  

Bend me and bend this sick reality! I fear your thighs succumb to these who will stop at nothing, ‘till we conceive this last conspiracy. This is why you are colourless inside of me. Why go there? Why?

Wells are burning, can’t you see your body is a river? And both king and court would like to sail your river as you shiver. You’re a black embargo willing to bend over ‘cause you rest assured the cowboy and his cattle will surely assist you bringing wealth to poverty. Why, now your soul is falling overboard, it’s falling overboard! Why can’t you see us coming? Oh the Rush Man was a promise! We’re determined by hate and all this crying brings you nothing! We’re disrupted by the halo but the halo is on fire, and the Rush Man’s running torches through the quest of your designs, and this cowboy and his cattle will surely assist you bringing wealth to poverty. This is why your colour lives inside of me.

Break Or Seal

The child is mine. The child is mine. Oh slaves do not take her voice for she could learn how to break or seal your bondage, keep you in torment and release the rain… You do not share faith.

The Real Children

There’s a roaming caravan that’s selling gallows to the waiters, and there’s a corner in the world that’s so ashamed with what it’s made of. There’s a raindrop on a forehead from a heaven in disguise, and there’s a question killing answers on a quest for reasons why. There’s a new tint to the ink drops, maybe riders soon appear. Oh dear violet keep on waving ‘till your smell resemble fear. We’ve seen the antidote machine guns pumping truth into a flock of none believers. Let the truth of institution keep us!

We’ve heard that isles have announced that they no longer claim to fly, and there were hordes of screaming men who, for that reason, took their lives. Now there’s a new tint to the ink drops, soon the riders will appear, and the captain is a wave away from close to getting near all the strange things about it. We know none of what we’re shown. None of the valid and puzzled bricks, that keeps the symbols in the stones. Now endure the gift of ten entangled and none abiding spines. Become the seven fold amendment, precomposed into the eyes of the children. Oh no… There are no real children… They are not real!

The Painted

Can’t we get silence when the noise is violent towards all the seeds we’ve sown? One memory will die all alone.

My halo stays beneath my temple eyes. A thief stood trial to prove that the altar is in decay and the vaults are spared no payers. The stairs will prove that I was conscious. Need I bring before this mighty court of law that I’m on this witness stand under false oath?

On the road to the king and the road to the court there’s a giant flaming owl that I fear. Not the holes or the graves nor the pins and the nails, for this chamber of eyes is all a leap of faith. For king she lied to the eyes of a child. You know this, that I am called the Rush Man Run. Soldier! The man in the gallows told her that death has no face, but over across the Elyse, The Painted is waiting for me.  

If angels are merciful, so are we. For mercy defines our supremacy. If power is locked in the vaults of the free, then calmness fills me for I am a key.

If angels have mercy like which they speak, then I wish no place in what’s heavenly. We hereby leave through the urban seas, and drown by the shores of it peacefully.

We’ll drown by the shores and drown those questioning me. Drown by the shores and drown those questions in me.

Behold The Remnant Parts Of Me

Endured the crisis trials, and shown what else is prologue to the things he thought was life, has he who through the lonely chamber strives to behold the remnant parts of me, for I see everything.

In The Seed

(Instrumental)

Beneath The Broken Country

I come before pleasure. I came before pain. I’m a common choice. I’m elected slave, and a slaves’ bane I’ll become. For we are the fall and the cursed wind! We are the chrome on your gold hand! We are the cops and the Free State! We are the sun and the cavemen!

Oh the hole in minus three will be the draining of blood in both of me. We do not fear the tree.

The masks are falling ominously beneath the broken country. We do not share faith.

The road on which we meet is short and I’m the king and I’m the court. Seas bleed with me.

Tick with me…

Someone knew me. Thief, Speak to me truly. Someone knew me; someone through the colour of one old memory. One that I now recall…

We come before pleasure. We reign above pain. We’re the led treasure and we disarm men. We bleed like friends bleed, and die like friends kill, and believe; there’s no such plague in me. There remain a course within the course before the name Collibro.

CREDITS

All The Blood

Choir Consists of: Søren Dahm, Malte Dupont, Kerstin Brix, Daniel Saroori, , and LISERSTILLE    

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass

Martin Byrialsen: Synthesizer

Send In The Scouts

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass, Synthesizer

Martin Byrialsen: Synthesizer, Piano, Lead Vocals

Recalling The Color

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass

Martin Byrialsen: Synthesizer, Organ, Lead Vocals

Like a Common Wave

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Lead Vocals

Shards of The Ending

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass, Double Bass

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Synthesizer, Lead Vocals

Through The Quest Of Your Designs

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Synthesizer, Lead Vocals

Break Or Seal

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Lead Vocals

The Real Children

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Lead Vocals

The Painted

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums, Melodica

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass, Synthesizer

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Synthesizer, Lead Vocals

Behold The Remnant Parts Of Me

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Lead Vocals

In the Seed

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Melodica

Beneath The Broken Country

Jon Gotlev Flindt Hansen: Drums, Melodica

Tue Schmidt Rasmussen: Guitar

Asbjørn Helboe Hansen: Bass

Martin Byrialsen: Piano, Synthesizer, Lead Vocals

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