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Wundkokon

by Wundkokon

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  • Wundkokon Special-Edition
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    DinA5 Beiheft kommt mit originaler Kohlezeichnung und einem zusätzlichen bisher unveröffentlichten Text (handschriftlich).
    Jedes Exemplar erhält eine andere Zeichnung.

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1.
English tranlation: Father .... I throw planetary balls at you ... your head so small - here in the distance. And when it gapes, you are the universe. With tweezer fingers I sort us out again - you and me. But in me it is far away, empty and cold. Father!
2.
English Translation: In the head are hooded gunners, Wearing your face under a decomposing mask. With target exercises for the pain, They fire in the glass domes of my eyes. It breaks out and seeps inexorably into a new feeling. My father, our suffering? Soldiers are marching in the abdomen in a strange uniform, without an indication of an act. But anger rushes after them ... the war is not yet understood. A blood storm sweeps through the heart and brain, the child is raging in the chains of longing, begs and asks: Father, do you still know my first name? My father, our suffering? And when sorrow comes, is she lonely, everything else already buried. My father, my suffering? I´m a kid !?
3.
English Translation: My little room: Color impregnated wallpaper, in the corner seesaw rocking horse. Glass marbles roll, tears do not I count the stars, high up, there are 3, they only shine for me! What a dream of flowers, that is in me, a matter of the heart. How happy it is to live this life in me .... to be allowed to. It pulses to small fingertips, curiously exploring, my little room was never enough for me. Black dabs first Colors tear away like burning celluloid Black-feathered spears of thought pierces deep in the former dream Red wetness combines with tenacious black Erupting bubbling bubbles that spit paranoid fear The apocalypse in children's eyes The stars seem not to shine for me anymore I cry bitterly The horse swallows the marbles ... not my tears. What grief now in the little room, I was never enough!
4.
English Translation: Nightingale Song In nightingale robe a dream drips heavily through the pillow and sings with beauty of perdition. Gluttony begs sleep to quiet the night and fear tortures itself in herbivory through the ceiling pattern - breath-fed. However my butterfly is born without wings. The sun gives itself another sleep and darkness bears the risk of guilt. In the guard room squats life crippled waits in vain for healing. At the door a worry grid and I, with too much fear, fear the quiet gestures. Death masturbates stiff in the neck, so long until he comes, or I can? Desolation is an ice desert, in which I warm the migrant birds with my heart rich to feed. Impregnate her in the offense with hopelessness and spring dies with me. Salty pearls lead to the day, thought up warm and not found. Which dream is still waiting at the end of these ravines? Silently I listen again, the nightingale Lullaby.
5.
English Translation: Suckling Thinker Skull: To fill yourself with knowledge from opened thinker skulls, like from milk churns. Foaming poison of fruitless past Fearful lips spit teeth into delusion. Solitude struts on spider legs Turning eight times to nothingness Window in the moth dream consuming itself helpless words bleed crookedly to the door A spot of laughter closes itself to oblivion. The clock incensed to the bone, sleeping pointers loll like dead beetles. Feverishly vomiting the groundless cadaver lake wall , to the gullet of wet fear Inseminated fingers multiply, very grained to scratch the skin. Unseeing eyes hallucinate to the coma din studding the blanket with sores. Breath of desire disgusts the room with lifeless color. Dreamless clinging insect swarms in the foundation of all being. To rot up to eat, an empty house of cards. Everything breaks.
6.
English - Translation: Human Trial A rain shower from dark caves A frightful birth of clammy hands The temple thumps in pain the withered face shines and whispering his name through the mourning sea, one nobody understands. Outside, in front of the door - the way leads back. Cold feelings on high wires hesitating, in the storm light, in the windbreak. A flock of charred crows draws its circles of warm ash. Outside, in front of the door - the way leads back. Fear of her buds drives blossoming blowing loneliness. The mind devises words, the beaded lips humming bite the tune. Once again failed human experiment. Outside, in front of the door - the way leads back. Through the desire cemetery, the dream altar. The generating station, flee from birth, become a notion which gently blows away. Become a drop in the rain, weeping the born ones.
7.
Im Duft 02:40
English - Translation: In scent His scent rises up, perhaps borne on the skeletal wings of dead birds, disembodied in delusion, to defy life. Held bent by life over a bottomless abyss, man deeply inhales the longing, Warmth to his bones. He casts his eyes down blindly, the eyeball itself runs white and tough through a grained riverbed of his cheeks. - To not confront Death - Inhaling- Smell of pleasing rose petals, withered carnations, cold earth. He rips out his hair in tufts, to end his puppetism, to be a player - Humanity on strings, The drama of himself. He pushes his chest out so painfully that it bursts. Courage is always to follow the heart! His scent surrounds him, cold autumn leaves, Transience at the ready. In a low voice and the trembling of his lips, he speaks: "Dearest life, it worries me that you are sick of me. " And like the sadness of a child, that no longer finds itself, He falls rain-like, in longing. Now, in mid-fall, carried by loving winds, it melts in the scent of a thousand winters. In scent ...
8.
Entfremdet 01:51
English - Translation: Aliented Windows saw stars dancing nourishing neon lamps with glistening light. Walls bear witness to space, turning around white axis, blurring to contourlessness. I become a table, chair, into a bed- stay formless. Drink beer from broken shards, cut me with addiction. Lucky drops drive the face upward, tugging the hair towards infinity. Skin is dusty and exposes bright naked cloud flesh. The sky happily so close The backdrop outlandish, alienates the ego.
9.
English-Translation: Aliented Windows saw stars dancing nourishing neon lamps with glistening light. Walls bear witness to space, turning around white axis, blurring to contourlessness. I become a table, chair, into a bed- stay formless. Drink beer from broken shards, cut me with addiction. Lucky drops drive the face upward, tugging the hair towards infinity. Skin is dusty and exposes bright naked cloud flesh. The sky happily so close The backdrop outlandish, alienates the ego.
10.
English-Translation: I, the son of my murderer You hurled your seed into the womb I escaped. With golden hands you lifted me from the cradle, too close to the sun, so they melted and I fell in the cold room of love, your gestures fleeting, your words mute. I am a prototype of your son. I am Icarus - the son of my murderer! You drag my name as your guilt on all your mountains. The fire blazes up on my flesh, my wishes. I am Isaac - the son of my murderer! And I'm Pinocchio. Never became aware of your humanity, and you, father, my biggest lie.

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released April 15, 2018

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Wundkokon Wuppertal, Germany

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