Además de los 8 músicos, hay que destacar la presencia de nuevo de la Orquesta Filarmónica Eslovena y mencionar especialmente la participación de la joven soprano croata Norina Radovan que comparte protagonismo con Mr. Doctor en la parte vocal. Espeluznante momento vocal cuando Mr. Doctor poniendo voz infantil dice desesperado "Mama, I`m Cold! Let me in! LET ME IN!".
El álbum esta dedicado, se menciona en los créditos, al "CONCIERTO MACABRO" de un músico ficticio llamado George Harvey. En realidad de donde esta inspirado el "Dies Irae" es del "CONCERTO MACABRE FOR PIANO AND ORCHESTRA" del álbum "The Classic Film Scores of B.H" de Bernard Herrmann.
El álbum es rico de detalles sonoros (Las partes de órgano de iglesia fueron grabadas por Michel Fantini Jesurum en el órgano de la basílica de Monte Berico, cerca de Vicenza (Italia) y de una esmerada y perfecta producción con letras muy complejas plenas de citas poéticas; Resultado: convertirse en la obra magna de Devil Doll. y desde luego que lo consiguió.
En lo personal, este es el disco que más me gusta de Devil Doll, tanto por la letra como por lo que representa.
DIES IRAE
Oyez! Oyez!
This is a gala evening!
Veiled angels
Crowd the theatre
To see a play
Of hopes and fears.
Motley mimes
Toss about the scene
Held up by threads
Sinking in the deep.
Onstage
In a corner
Hidden behind myself
I hold my breath:
In the airless air
Shards of crushed rainbows
Fill my limbo,
Placed somewhere
Between world and toys.
"Do you want to play with me?"
In the soundtrack of my survival
The furious small hammers
Fully uprooted
From their key-shaped
Skeleton
Cruelly explore
Every cranial path
Always closer...
Always more painful!
The sharks' fin
Is sighting straight for me:
Creatures or spirits
I beg you!
Maybe it's the delirium
Of my morbid ratio
Or that voice that lies
Deep in my intimate self
To allow this swimming
Through the lymphs of victims
While dark reigns over
The sons of putrefaction!
Father of sons all deformed
That like a ghastly stream
Surge out
Through the rusted gates of time
-a deaf dumb eyeless throng
Laughing forever
But smiling no more
The god absent.
Or still.
"Haec verba audi: vitam aeternam!"
Like the shaman
Who ingratiates himself
With the deity
Of the animal he hunts
Seeking possession
With the spirit of the beast:
So the innocents,
Pervaded with the spirit
Of the great predator
-Princeps huius mundi-
Though burnt on our pyres
Will transcend time
Soaring over
Physical extinction.
Domine te voco
Iustum mihi ostende unicum
Talis monstris ob spectaculum
Stupefactus ego moriar...
...on meurt a moins!
Hooked hands
Stretched out above
In the ultimate endeavour
To clutch an atom
That does not sink.
In the day of wrath
The hungry marionettes
Wake up - come alive
While birds of soul
Usher in
The rays of chaos..
"Fatal infection... Far all!
Epidemy! Epidemy!"
Dies irae!
Feeding on fragments of gangrene
Teeth crumble
Toes fall apart.
We crawl like earth-worms
That rats and birds fight over.
Scored by silence
Spirits creep
Out of the secret nooks:
Scatter in the streets
Each one
Choosing his own
Beloved prey.
Among the trees,
Holding her out my hands
"What about a walk?"
I avoid the sharp splinters
Of her sweet shattered gaze.
Step by step
Into the labyrinths of doubt
Every shelter: a trap.
While distresses I witness
The twilight of my heart
You spread around drops of light
Unaware of the rustle
Of invisible syllables:
"You will not get out
Of eternal peace!"
And the virgin blade kisses,
-freeing-
Your white throat.
N
I'm quite sure
She feels no pain!
The voice
Still throbs:
"Each man
Kills
The thing
He loves!"
(incubus)
In the purple flashes Of the blazing blood
Slowly we vanish
In and around ourselves.
Cells of spirit dissolve
Bit by bit...
"You will not get out of eternal peace!
You will not get out of eternal peace!"
Suddenly the vold
Fills your first born
Vibration.
Just the still splendour
Of your icy wards endures.
I see you through my tears,
Tears that nobody ever will dry...
"You will not get out of eternal peace!
You will not get out of eternal
Peace/kill/sleep/murder/death.
The last word of my script
Is now declaimed.
Time is over,
And there's no whispering prompter
To ease my scenic solitude.
The crawling shape intrudes
And while I open my arms
It seizes me in its jaws!
"This is my body, which is sacrificed for you!"
("Into thy hands I commend my spirit...")
Out. Out are the lights. Out all.
And over each quivering form
The curtain comes down
Like a funeral pall.
With a rush of storm,
While angels
-pale and silent-
Rising and unveiling
Affirm
That we are witnessing
The tragedy
"man"
And its hero is....
The conqueror worm.
Yet I would lose no sting
Would wish no torture less;
The more that anguish racks
The earlier it will bless.
And robed in fires of hell
Or bright in heavenly shine,
If it but herald death
The vision is divine.
The still look
Curled up in the strait-jacket.
Fading of tears.
Behind every kiss:
A potential judas.
Desire of biting
The vital artery
Mine
Or of the first passer-by
Insects with legs
Torn off
My nails one by one
Shards of glass
In eyes of cat
Smile. Or simply: ivory.
Good night.
Plug disconnected.
Some flowers
In the first month
Then just:
Earth.
