Top 100 Fave Songs (#13)
11 years ago
Today is a song by one of my fave unque Avant-garde bands. Maudlin Of The Well is pretty amazing, if its this heavy of a song or one of their softer songs. I just love this band, they were so unusual. Even though they didn't stick around long their albums are an example of great Avant-Garde. This song today is one of their heavy songs along with the other song by them that showed up earler in the countdown. I love this songs intro then it just hits heavy and the mix of what I'm guessing is a flute and a few other instruments. It is an amazing piece and I hope you enjoy it :3
Artist: Maudlin Of The Well
Song: Stones OF October's Sobbing
Album: Leave Your Body Map
Genre: Avant-Garde Metal, Progressive Metal
Country: USA
lyrics:
Another year dead, and the harvest moon;
Leaves burning is the peasant's legacy.
Knelling, as the cheek of Summer is kiss'd--
Shivering of the elm, she is entomb'd.
The hay wain creaks through the countryside
As poet Autumn's fires scorch all this world.
They are entranced by the turning mill wheel,
Clear and cutting with Proserpine's kiss.
Bless the sun, decked in gorgeous array--
Frost, and the dignity of flameless light,
The hermit's cottage, fashioned rough of stone--
Smoke rolling slow behind the orchard's bloom.
Like a cairn, the stones are aligned in silence;
Arrayed by a bloodless hand, out through veils.
Time is easily torn while pitchforks twist,
Twist as easily through her golden hair.
Seasons that kill years...
Death that mangles hearts...
Loves that lose their shine...
Tombs that are forgot...
Darkness awaits behind the suffering day.
Men that waste lives in search of Heaven.
Stones are sobbing in a vernal field.
Thoughts of spring and cascades before you die.
Artist: Maudlin Of The Well
Song: Stones OF October's Sobbing
Album: Leave Your Body Map
Genre: Avant-Garde Metal, Progressive Metal
Country: USA
lyrics:
Another year dead, and the harvest moon;
Leaves burning is the peasant's legacy.
Knelling, as the cheek of Summer is kiss'd--
Shivering of the elm, she is entomb'd.
The hay wain creaks through the countryside
As poet Autumn's fires scorch all this world.
They are entranced by the turning mill wheel,
Clear and cutting with Proserpine's kiss.
Bless the sun, decked in gorgeous array--
Frost, and the dignity of flameless light,
The hermit's cottage, fashioned rough of stone--
Smoke rolling slow behind the orchard's bloom.
Like a cairn, the stones are aligned in silence;
Arrayed by a bloodless hand, out through veils.
Time is easily torn while pitchforks twist,
Twist as easily through her golden hair.
Seasons that kill years...
Death that mangles hearts...
Loves that lose their shine...
Tombs that are forgot...
Darkness awaits behind the suffering day.
Men that waste lives in search of Heaven.
Stones are sobbing in a vernal field.
Thoughts of spring and cascades before you die.
Weird but awesome x3