1. |
Geoffrey's Leap
09:02
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Crowds have gathered to see justice done
The harm felt is shared, chains of malice loosened
From the granite spawned and to the rock he returns
The bed of vraic beckons aside the crying gulls
Was it luck?
Or a rejection of one so vile?
Geoffroi, leap again
Never has one returned from the crooked pit
Where visions of wicked, twisted wretches inspire obedience
Yellowed teeth spread bare approaching death’s edge
The beating of the greedy sea awaiting a crimson tide
Was it luck?
Or a rejection of one so vile?
Geoffroi, leap again
An awful smile darkly shining up from below
Cries of disbelief in the face of defiance
A solemn declaration of a sentence passed
Before a final, fatal leap of faith
Was it luck?
Or a rejection of one so vile?
Geoffroi, leap again
No preservation in the deep
Flesh and bones, stripped away
No salvation he shall reap
A life of sin, washed away
They’ll never be the same
No matter our retribution
We should have protected them
Instead we cast our negligence
From Le Saut Geoffroi
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2. |
La Tueûthie
08:44
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The sacred mills grind ever on, the old one's council spread
By the cleansed vessels of the eye who tend the sailors’ dead
To seek the well of slaughters’ secrets enraptured by the holy flame
The Lord and Lady watch the wreck of steed upon the sea
The ettin’s breath in killing-chants sets soul from body free
The white-robed goddess drags the dead which follow to the well
Their ashen skins are made anew beneath her rising yell
The mother calls the risen dead into her darkened womb
To the other world they crawl into the yawning tomb
Then back they turn towards the Sun’s light with secrets in their ears
On the ferry they emerge under the prince’s leer
"Au Groüet
Il y bait du lait;
À La Pulente,
Lé Dgiâbl'ye les tormente
Et à P'tit Port
Lé dgiâbl'ye y dort"
Né v’chîn à la lavoir des dames, seyiz les beinv’nus au vot’ mort
Aniet sera vot’ dernièthe
Ach’teu est lé temp à Prier à vot Dgieu
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3. |
Lé Rotchi d'Rocque Bèr
05:23
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Onward roam out at dusk, air of sweetened ash
Weary legs and weary head, beside the rock he rests
Gleeing dreams, bride to be, nigh is the time of mercy
But he knows not what awaits when he wakes
He wanders far from home
Her fears grow with woe
Awoken by the song and dance of maidens toe to toe
Falling to their spell he joins them, dancing all the night
“I will return”!, he yells on his departure back
There he proclaims his meeting with mother, maiden, crone
He wanders far from home
Her fears grow with woe
She warns him not to go
He does not heed her warning
Là, touos les Vendrédis, nou donnait Bal
Au Piton et à sa bande înfèrnale!
Ch'tait un véthitabl'ye rendez-vous d'malîns;
Satan, Chorchièrs, Démons ou Dgiâbliotîns
He wanders far from home
Her fears grow with woe
She warns him not to go
He does not heed her warning
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4. |
Minot's Light
13:05
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Weathered by poverty and cruel northern winds
Fill your bellies with golden sand
Isle of promises
bread, beer and coin
A purposeful, prosperous future
Aboard the Minot’s Light
40 poor women’s souls
Lit by candle, warmed by hope
By the Ecrehous
Out to the East
Under the gaze of St. Martîn
A splintered wreck
Despite bloody toil
Wrath on the rocks
Pierre Des Femmes
And those who could, they swam for their lives
And those who could not, in the cruel sea they died
"Eune niétchie d'zombinn'nie
Et par les nièrs c'mîns, l'ouéthou veindra té qu'si ses grîns adgûss'lés happ'thont pouor t'égdachi
R'touônner sus ses pas? Il est souotre té tréjous.
I' n'y'a d'aut' d'êcappe à ch't' êmânue, l'ouéthou'
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5. |
Lé Creux au Dgiâbl'ye
05:31
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Through wretched word of mouth and sleepless pursuit
With blade and gunpowder, it was subdued and cast in irons
Aboard the Josephine bound for captivity
Alas the wicked journey cut short across le creux d’la Congre
The shrieking amplified by le creux de vis
Farmers above noting their constant dwindling stock
A trail of bones leads to the morbid site
Where no man dares to tread, be it day or night
LDgiâbl'ye a des pids en chabots fouôrtchis coumme les pids d'eune vaque
Eune longue coue atout un didget barbelé au but
Des cornes sus l'haut d'la tête coumme un bichot
Un visage coumme un bichot étout
et san corps est couvèrt dé pé coumme eune biche
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The Head of Helier Jersey
Black Metal from Jersey, Channel Islands with songs in Jèrriais and English about local heritage and history.
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