Behold the dragon, for he’s the son of Jupiter,
Chemical blood, corroded skin, he’s taming thunder.
Down faller, he’s chasing beasts and adventure.
Burnt lungs, crushed liver, he keeps on blowing harder.
But she’s running water, he’ll never get her.
She’s staring at his gloom, she won’t be his saviour.
Fire marquis bathed in kerosene, untamed creature,
He spits fire, coughs louder, and breathes harder.
He’s lived faster, burnt quicker… he’ll fade sooner.
Soon he’ll stumble on the rocks, and fall into the river…
Fueled by chaos, caught in bright flames,
He keeps on roaring fire, his life can’t be vain.
Washed away dragon, on his bed of stone,
Burning veins, blown out flame left on his own.
But she’s running water, he’ll never get her.
She’s staring at his gloom, she won’t be his saviour.
Mourn the dragon, for he’s been tossed away by Jupiter,
Night screamer,
Fighter and kick-hunter,
WAS he a survivor?
Mourn the dragon,
For now he’s left alone by the river,
For he has lost his flame
Down by the water.
credits
from Русалка EP,
track released February 15, 2012
(P) Crimson Muddle
Recorded by Le Bruit Blanc
A killer re-release of a rare solo post-punk LP from 1988 by the frontman of Taste of Decay and Garden of Pleasures. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 17, 2022