Abyssus 1 [English translation]

Tell me, what kind of sleep is that,

in which you float adrift

through the cold, hopeless water?

You don't know if you're alive.

Tell me, what kind of sleep is that?

Do I alone see the ghost light,

the green-ish, purple-ish glow,

the gray that breaks from the blackness

like reliefs made of stone?

Do I alone see this ghost light?

When was your last breath of air?

How long has it been?

How long does this flight last

in the salty sea?

When was your last breath of air?

After an endlessly long time,

now the end seems near.

The way to the ground is not far.

Was it there before?

Before an endlessly long time?

At the deepest point, behind walls black as tar,

where memories lurk on the threshold.

If you enter, then there is no return.

It opens into a deep maw,

a hole in Now and Here:

The sediment-covered ground

rises up away from you.

It opens into a deep maw.

Does the heart of the ghost light live here?

Does it strengthen in the hole?

Why are you still just sinking,

in the face of horror,

into the heart of the ghost light?

In the bosom of this mountain landscape,

in the deep-sea-trench-land,

there is an unreal and nightmarish

tower in the gray sand.

In the bosom of this mountain landscape.

Most of the windows stare blindly

and empty up to you

like eyes that are also mouths.

They scream silently in unison.

The windows call, silent and blind.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

The abyss calls.

At the deepest point, behind walls black as tar,

where memories lurk on the threshold.

If you enter, then there is no return.

And suddenly the tower has awakened!

The window-eyes glow,

and lights dance enticingly, gently

like buds that blossom.

And suddenly the tower has awakened!

A glow seeps out of the tower

into the oily black.

Far away, a storm rages

wild, unceasing.

A glow seeps out of the tower.

Lanterns light the way to your home

and lull you gently.

they look like fluttering elves,

soon you'll reach them.

Lanterns light the way to your home.

Like bait on the fishing line,

like hooks for your heart.

Behind it, teeth are waiting just

for you and your pain.

The bait on the fishing line.

At the lowest point, behind walls,

where memories lurk on the threshold.

Memories deep in the dream ...

How well the tower knows you!

The walls and the battlements

in the wrong element.

Memories deep in the dream.

You have many more years left

to internalize the fear.

You plunge so slowly,

but it will happen.

You have many more years left.

• Artist:ASP
• Album:zutiefst