Blood Axis - Between Birds Of Prey lyrics

Who would here descend? How soon is he swallowed up by the depths? Thou, Zarathustra, still lovesth the abysses Lovesth them as doth the fir-tree The fir flings its roots And the rock itself gazes Shuddering at the depths The fir pauses before the abysses Where all around Would feign descent amid the impatience of wild Rolling, leaping torrents It waits so patient, stern, and silent, lonely Lonely, who would venture here To be guest, to be thy guest A bird of prey, per chance Joyous at other's misfortune Will cling persistent to the heir of the steadfast watcher With frenzied laughter, a vulture's laughter Wherefor so steadfast? Mocks he so cruel He must have wings who loves the abyss He must not stay on the cliff As thou, who hangesth there Oh Zarathustra Cruelest nimrod! Of late still a hunter of God A spider's web, to capture virtue An arrow of evil Now hunted by thyself Thine own prey Caught in the grip of thine own soul Now lonely to me and thee Twofold in thine own knowledge 'Mid a hundred mirrors False to thyself 'Mid a hundred memories Uncertain and weary from every wound Shivering at every frost Throttled in thine own noose Self-knower Self-hangman Why didsth bind thyself With the noose of thy wisdom? Why luresth thyself To the old serpent's paradise? Why stowesth into thyself Thyself? A sick man now Sick of serpent's poison A captive now Who has drawn the hardest lot In thine own shaft Now doesth thou workesth In thine own cavern? Digging at thyself Helpless quite Stiff, a cold corpse Overwhelmed with a hundred burdens Overburdened by thyself A knower, a self-knower The wise Zarathustra Thou soughtesth the heaviest burden So foundesth thou thyself And cansth not shake thyself off Watching Crouching One that stands up right no more Thou with grow deformed Even in thy grave Deformed spirit And of late, still so proud On all the stilts of thy pride Of late, still the godless hermit The hermit with one comrade, the devil The scarlet prince of every devilmen's Now between two nothings Huddled up a questionmark A weary riddle A riddle for vultures They will solve thee They hunger already for thy solution They flutter already about their riddle About thee The doomed one Oh Zarathustra Self-knower Self-hangman