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Moonspell
Moonspell




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  M  →  Moonspell  →  Albums  →  The Butterfly Effect

Moonspell Album


The Butterfly Effect (1999)
1999
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Iґm only real -
at Places I cannot be

My right Hand rebels
and chops off the Left
(The) hairy Ape walks into Stage
He tries to stay erect

The One who never slept
in Order to be perfected
The Arrogance of their Hands
The joy of the Regret

Soulsick
Good at things I never did

Soulsick - but skin deep
Tense, frantic - but relieved

Soulsick - but skin deep
Tense, frantic - but believed

Iґm only real - at Places I cannot be

Dead liquid vigilant
Implanted into my Sleep

The One who never slept
The One, who stays erect
The One who is profound
The One - I do reject

Soulsick, but Skin deep
Tense, frantic - but relieved
Soulsick, but skin deep
Tense, frantic - but believed

Soulsick
Good at things I never did

Iґm only real at Places I cannot be

Soulsick - but skin deep
Iґm not real, just believed in

Soulsick, but Skin deep
Not real - just believe it

. . .


When I move
You move with me
I feed off you
You feast on me

And what I see
You can not see
That when I move
You move with me

Where's this small
dead hand that creeps me
I am biting it to its very bone
Collapsing with everything new on me
until it gets so very old

And what I see
You can not see
That when I move
You move with me

There is this third body
spinning fast
reducing me
into a relapse
with its crippled flaps
slow motion dims
sweetly parasited
by butterfly wings

And what I see
You can not see
That when I move
You move with me

All that is old is new again
(To be) each other spies
we're condemned
Everything is everywhere
The butterfly effect

And what I see
You can not see
I will have to kill you
Before you kill me

Everything is everywhere
The butterfly effect

. . .


Can't bee your lover
Can't bee that loveless
Can't bee that healing rope, or anything
Can't bee without you, the one or the other
Can't even bee what you are for me

Can't even bee your final solution
I hope I was your final pollution

Can't bee your motion
Can't bee that frozen
Can't bee those limbs you miss, or everything
Can't bee the apocalypse, one or the other
Can't live your life for you and for me

Can't even bee your final pollution
I wish I was the heartbeat of your destruction

Can't bee like you
Can't bee that hateful
Can't bee that cross to bridge, or just that thing
Can't bee the insect stroke, the distracted love
Don't dare to bee what you are for me

Can't even bee your absolution
I pace at the rhythm of your consumption

. . .


Whatever hounts me from birth on
Is licking white blood again
It is sickering in my heart
While I divide yours in two

Lustmord
I will never stop to hurt you
Lustmord
I will never stop to love you

I will never stop to hurt you
Now that I have you with me
So close together in one body
I feel so save but what about you

The soft sweet wound of normalcy
is sweating white blood again
I am fingering every inch of it
Grateful for who I am

Youґre my interruption
My crossroad of just one way
my object without a function
but still mine anyway

Unpredictable
When I kiss it burns
Irresistable
As a crowd of only one
I am so addicted and you are so down
You are nailed forever to my sense of lust

Lustmord
I will never stop to hurt you
Lustmord
I will never stop to love you

. . .


On my knees now
I'll inflict myself some real Love
On my knees now
I'll choke myself
in troubled Love

On my knees now
I'll purge myself of real Love
On my knees now
I swear - I know nothing
of that troubled Love

I am a Man again
through Self-Abuse
Improving myself
Through Self-Abuse

On my knees now
I'll end myself through real Love
On my knees now
I'll reveal myself
in troubled Blood

Waste me, waste me - waste me
Never try to beat me

I am a Man again
Through Self-Abuse
Improving myself
Through Self-Abuse

I am seeking someone
Sneaking through
my troubled Blood

I am feeling someone
Starving for my troubled Love

Self-Abuse.....Self-Abuse
Never try to compete with me

. . .


I am the eternal spectator

The eternal stimulator
Of things that never come
Of things that never come

I am the eternal spectator

The eternal ruminator
Of things better left alone
Of things better left alone

Watching over you
Sometimes inside of you
Watching over you
Sometimes inside of you

The eternal dictator
Of your perpetual distraction
The eternal collector
Of things that were never done
The eternal agitator
Of a war you never fought
The eternal demonstrator
Until you prove me wrong

Watching over you
Sometimes inside of you
Watching over you
Long-dead inside of you.

. . .


I will manipulate you
Until it becomes a vice
I will dispose of you
Until it becomes a vice
Let me exxagerate you
Distort you from inside out
love you by different rules
fuck you up to your soul
I will pretend I love you
To know what is like
Then come in my own mouth
To feel what is like
Let me desecrate you
Spit you when I´m down
Let me banalize you
Until you are adored

Open your heart
Half-devoured
All that I want
Is your strange kind of power
Open your heart
Half-devoured
All that I need
Is your strange kind of power

I will insist on you
Until you become the Truth
I will decay with you
Until you become the Ruin
Let me celebrate here
Now that nothing is left of you
Let me celebrate now
Here´s nothing left of you

Open your heart
Half-devoured
All that I want
Is your strange kind of power
Open your heart
Half-devoured
All that I need
Is your strange kind of power


I will dispose of you.I will manipulate you
I will discard of you but I will believe in you

. . .


You can disappear here
Without knowing it
You can disappear here
Without believing it

Leave me alone. Take me with you
Bring me apart, a part from you

Inject your soul
With a milligram of false hope
Write your last loath song

Disappear hear.

. . .


To live is to collaborate
All the spineless people
wonґt capitulate
Will walk again
Will evacuate
And stimulate

And they will wait for the Man
With that ridicolous fairy hand
To work on their lives
And to re-adjust their faith

All the spineless people
Will walk again
Will agitate
And ejaculate

A great act of Sex will be lived here
We will call it The Great and Only Shame
We will make love to ourselves
And tomorrow we will make the same

All the Insect actors
Want to participate
Will perform again
Will dissociate
And fabricate

And they will wait for the Director
With that apocalyptic Lizard Head
To review their births
And invert their pains

All the Insect actors
(really) want to participate
Will perform again
Will imitate
And simulate

An emergency will be staged6
We will call it The Great Accident
We will act as someone else
The very ones we learnt to hate

All of us the ultra-Human
Wish to associate
will hesitate
will adequate
and collaborate.

A great act of Free Will will be lived here
They already call it the Golden Age
We will adapt and celebrate
But we will perish just the same


. . .


The lunar backbone stands straight and alert for a last time
The mammal feathers are revamped just for this last night
Mouthless children are breasted with their own words
To essence of their souls escaping through their giant bones

you will be paralysed
made to be believed
broken inside to survive
and to watch over me

archangel - of no use and no form
archangel - suffocating alone

multiple wounds reach the heat of an absolute zero
the eaten fluids, the flesh of the conventional hero
Heavenly levels on a full blast of lust but minimum pain
Injected wings rip backflesh and go inside again
Mouthless children suffocate
with their ancient words,
their mud-dimensional world
lactating from their shrinking bones

you will be paralysed
the corrupted seed
broken inside to survive
I will laugh at all this

archangel - with no use and no form
archangel - suffocating with blood

the eternal spectator stares at this and improvises
his holy centralbone always on a rise, always on a rise

archangel - of no use and no form
archangel - suffocating with words

. . .


Maybe I am the man with those mystic two heads
one facing down, the other facing back
but I don't know who I am
and you still don't know who I am

Maybe I am the man with the legendary four hands
To finger, to heal, crave and strangulate
but I don't know who I am
and you still don't know who I am

I am exhausted of returning to a place I've never been
I am exhausted of returning from a place I've never been

Maybe I am the man of the universal two words
The lie and the lie, the scorn and the scorn
You want to know how I am
To forgive me what I am

I am exhausted of returning to a place I've never been
I am exhausted of returning from a place I've never been

I forgot who I am but I am too tired to be it
I forgot who I am but I am too tired to live/leave it

I am exhausted of returning to a place I've never been
I am exhausted of returning from a place I've never been

. . .


No caso do mal de Cristo o primeiro sintoma é a morte.
Calcula-se que cem milhões de pessoas morreram do mal de Cristo.
"Eu sou o caminho". Os efeitos especiais evoluiram muito desde Jesus.
Ora Cristo diz que se algum filho da puta te tirar metade da roupa que lhe dês a outra metade.
Muitos tolos infelizes foram esmagados por pilhas de Litas seminus em luta.
Os Implacáveis do Perdão.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.
Enfiai a vossa língua pela sua garganta abaixo,
Provai o que ele esteve a comer e abençoai a sua digestão
Deslizai para os seus intestinos e ajudai-o trabalhar a comida.
Dê-lhe o seu amor e terá a sua auréola-extensão.
Olhos por toda a parte, no seu televisor, no quarto, no banho.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Milhares de irmãos metediços que te cheiram, ouvem, vêem, dia e noite.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.
Não há dúvida alguma, irmãos e irmãs, amor é a resposta.

Não há dúvidalguma
POSTA.

Irmãos &
Irmãs

Amor é @ res

. . .


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