i love opeth...but my headphones suck...so this is pretty much what i hear when i listen to ghost of perdition...actually even if my headphones were ok...this is still pretty much what i would be hearing. i mean the growling part...of course. the rest is coherent.
khosa maaro...lingering death*
khosa your blood is spilt
versace on the billboard comes the doorway hound
brisil facen goiten helll (?)
khosaaa ficitious
starking in the chairs
a boar came...no one red
tragic friction
coal is on the fall
olium baggen the deciever
keeper of olium
keeeeeper of olium
hooorrrrlllll
with convicted fallen shadows of the breeches.
the feathers on your mind are recalling you to bone
define the constant law where the victim is the freak
haaaa
these are only the growling parts...if anybody thinks these lyrics are inaccurate...potty khao. i swear the guy says khosa...i mean it seems like he said it...
i miss my milk and yoghurt...and my milk and honey...not MY milk of course...my milk is for special occassions only...i only milk pak...asli doodh comes out of boobies of cow and therefore gross. although i wonder if one can pleasure a cow by fondling her nipples. i'd like to try but i won't enjoy it.
i figured it out...he doesn't say khosa...he says "ghost of..." which seems like khosa...there's more growling...it's on repeat. let's see what he says here...
odin get down curdling darkness
have got a fork in cocks
fading resistance berating the weakness
and a traiting in the pieeee
i think this bit was in the beginning...before the khosa part.
i should go see what he's actually saying...and compare...thingy.
Ghost of MotherLingering death
Ghost on Mother's bed
Black strands on the pillow
Contour of her health
Twisted face upon the head
Ghost of perdition
Stuck in her chest
A warning no one read
Tragic friendship
Called inside the fog
Pouring venom brew deceiving
Darkness by her side
Spoke and passed her by
Dedicated hunter
Waits to pull us under
Rose up to it's call
In his arms she'd fall
Mother light received
And a faithfull servant's free
then there's this part
Holding her down
Channeling darkness
Hemlock for the Gods
Fading resistance
Draining the weakness
Penetrating inner light
man this is too long and i'm too hungry...i'm going to start crying now. bored...i shouldn't be bored...i have too many super powers to feel bored.
khosa maaro...lingering death*
khosa your blood is spilt
versace on the billboard comes the doorway hound
brisil facen goiten helll (?)
khosaaa ficitious
starking in the chairs
a boar came...no one red
tragic friction
coal is on the fall
olium baggen the deciever
keeper of olium
keeeeeper of olium
hooorrrrlllll
with convicted fallen shadows of the breeches.
the feathers on your mind are recalling you to bone
define the constant law where the victim is the freak
haaaa
these are only the growling parts...if anybody thinks these lyrics are inaccurate...potty khao. i swear the guy says khosa...i mean it seems like he said it...
i miss my milk and yoghurt...and my milk and honey...not MY milk of course...my milk is for special occassions only...i only milk pak...asli doodh comes out of boobies of cow and therefore gross. although i wonder if one can pleasure a cow by fondling her nipples. i'd like to try but i won't enjoy it.
i figured it out...he doesn't say khosa...he says "ghost of..." which seems like khosa...there's more growling...it's on repeat. let's see what he says here...
odin get down curdling darkness
have got a fork in cocks
fading resistance berating the weakness
and a traiting in the pieeee
i think this bit was in the beginning...before the khosa part.
i should go see what he's actually saying...and compare...thingy.
Ghost of MotherLingering death
Ghost on Mother's bed
Black strands on the pillow
Contour of her health
Twisted face upon the head
Ghost of perdition
Stuck in her chest
A warning no one read
Tragic friendship
Called inside the fog
Pouring venom brew deceiving
Darkness by her side
Spoke and passed her by
Dedicated hunter
Waits to pull us under
Rose up to it's call
In his arms she'd fall
Mother light received
And a faithfull servant's free
then there's this part
Holding her down
Channeling darkness
Hemlock for the Gods
Fading resistance
Draining the weakness
Penetrating inner light
man this is too long and i'm too hungry...i'm going to start crying now. bored...i shouldn't be bored...i have too many super powers to feel bored.
posted by Duck at 8:25 AM
1 Comments:
somebody complained that my blog grows too fast...and since it\'s boring...it makes it harder to read...since i can\'t stop...because i\'m an idiot...i\'ll just write more in the comments section...nobody will stumble upon this because i made a really boring blog...whose comment thing i\'m going to use as a hidden phoosi ka bacha blog.
It’s been a while since I wrote “stoned ejaculate” somewhere.
I am intrigued by the delusions of an individual known as h.s. He’s a nice guy but there’s something seriously weird in his attic. There’s a picture of the Eiffel tower on his blog…behind it somehow…it freaked me out and made reading whatever the hell he was writing kind of…well…annoying. This is how you spell the word ‘annoying’. I know this because “word” knows it. Soon the guy from whose penis I emerged will awake from his slumber and call himself a pig, by calling me a soor da bacha. It’s a good thing that old h.s. is unaware of this blog and will not be able to…big words…small words…any words will do…fail me not o’ crap ass vocabulary…good God I think he’s awake. I like my father the appropriate amount but right now I’m typing quietly…GODDAMNIT HIS ALARM WENT OFF…NOW HE’S DEFINITELY UP. H.S has done this to me…this is his vengeance…I should never have said that his Eiffel tower was dumb and an obvious question mark on his sexuality. Or maybe he lives in france now…who knows…everybody went some place nice after A’levels…England amreeka…Canada…lums (hahahahhaha) so it’s quite possible that h.s. went to france…which would in fact be perfect…he’s hairy as hell…so are French women…not that I’ve met any…but since most of my general knowledge comes from cheap potty movies and pornos…I will therefore dance the dance of idiots and go on doing what I do best. Nearly everything except when I’m horny…you can only do one thing when you’re horny…pretend.
So anyhoo…I was wandering around blogs…hoping to find something I’d be attracted to…perhaps going to khosa’s blog wasn’t the best course of action. He ingests newspapers and craps them out in his blog…but he does it well…I can tell because half way through a blog I wish for death…I have a problematic attention span and a love for chicken that can only be rivaled by pineapple juice. But khosa writes like a real writer…therefore nobody knows what made him.
Since I write whatever pops into my head…therefore I am stupid and he is wise…but not wise like Gandalf…just wise…maybe wise like papa smurf…but one can never be sure.
My father will soon emerge from his cave…I don’t feel lucky…so I’ll just wait for him to find me. Good God I’m old…but afraid of my father…I should take my khalas advice and buff up. She insists that I take up running as well. I enjoy running at night…that’s when nobody else is there and I can pretend I can run faster than anything…except light…because she weighs less than I do.
I was looking at this girl…she had a baby in her arms…it seemed hers…she was sitting in a car next to this guy. He seemed like her husband. Sometimes it feels like a crime when you see a girl…who’s passably pretty but stuck with a gorilla type man…and now thumping his baby…she seemed bored…so I stared at her like I meant it…until she stared back…then I stared at her husband and then back at the girl again…and kept staring until pana made his motorbike fly away.
She probably thought I was a pervert. Her husband probably thought I should die…Since I happen to be a pervert…I don’t mind…plus I felt like I should stare so as to restore order to the universe. I am superman…I can do whatever I want because I can get away with anything…no seriously…I can.
Fate is lowering me into a false sense of security. The phrase “false sense of security” is a phrase that leads you into a false sense of security…it’s one of those used phrases that you can find in any book, movie, condom wrapper…anywhere…so when it pops up inside your head…and by “you” I mean me…it feels like it’s important…it’s all that will be required…you have a ready made sentence…now you can relax…not worry about thinking anything up for a while…and then just when you’ve been lowered into a false sense of security…it vanishes…the phrase has come to an end…what do you do? What were you going to write when this ready made lovely comfortable phrase ended? I’ll tell you what…
Molest everything…and if you have nothing left to molest…molest the fact that you have nothing left to molest. Simple. I can get away with anything…I am superman…I wear underwear over pants…in all fairness…even though nearly everybody loves batman more than superman because batman is more…mysterious hahaa…and he has a proper disguise…and no cowlicks…but see…superman is old…they made superman way way before batman came…superman is the ultimate super hero…because he came first. But since I like batman too…super man can suck my dick…but I hope he doesn’t…in case he sucks it off. Personally…I like the green arrow…that’s this guy who dresses up like robin hood and blah blooh…he’s a friend of batman’s but Alfred doesn’t get along with the green arrow…because he’s kind of…crude. Alfred likes superman…because superman is all…gentleman like. I read this graphic novel…the black knight returns…batman and superman actually have a hand to hand combat in the end…usually they are friends…but in this case…it had to be done…the point is that superman and batman are equally matched…because…even though superman is super…batman knows all the judo kung fu crap that there is…so he has a technical advantage…although way behind in strength…there was one part where superman survives a nuclear explosion…so that’s just unbelievable…batman couldn’t have pulled that off…although he’s got enough science in him to build some device that could…act as nuclear rubber…it was an excellent novel…I think joker finally died in that one…son of a bitch…
It’s insane how bored I am…this is the point where I give up and say…come to my arms bitch cause I’m horny.
for the past day or so...i\'ve been having the urge to whisper to somebody...talking in whispers reminds me of happier times...how odd is that...plus it\'s bloody romantic. haahahaha. naturally...it\'s not romantic if you\'re whispering to your mother...that\'s just gross...i will not whisper to my mother again...what have i done...i have gone and corrupted the art of whispering...bah who cares...i\'ve already bought female things for my sisters...and i did so shamelessly...i\'ve been naked in front of army men...i am superman...i can get away with anything...except hiding blogs.
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