Behemoth - The Past Is Like A Funeral

Sometimes when I visit the landscapes
Of the shadows
Something that recalls the grave
Hides in the hellish depths and awaits
When I dream, it peeks into he empty goblet
(And) becomes the wine of extasy and licentiousness
I know the one in a frock said: "Watch out, watch out"
But I will not go away till I taste the sweetness
Of your body
No matter it poisons and causes death

The past is like an eternal funeral

Years, thousands of them, I rotted in a monastic cell
I resembled a stone, hiding my murderous
Self in silence and fear
I lasted in the infinity of meditations
And contemplations
Waiting for the deserved dream, there on the
Holy land
And its taste and coldness I remember
Bare-foot digging my own pit
I was hissing it as if the sweetest lover
And begged...
But was the sand to become my salvation
Or worms the people on the court of light

The past reeks of an oak coffin, so wet and old

Burning dirty claws in the wooden eyes of Jehova
I killed mercy, spitting on the laws of god
I celebrated the birth of power
I fell in love with freedom and the beast

And I spat out Antichrist from my morbid womb
In order to give life to the divine grain
And concentrate the birth of human tragedy & destruction
I envisaged myself as the great magician
Although they called me armageddon the whore
Today I celebrate my birth, though I am elder
Than the world

The past is only sometimes like the sand
That the grave-digger throws in your eyes