Mountains Crave

by Mountains Crave

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released December 12, 2014

Danny Heaton - Vocals
Mike Midgley - Guitars
Tom Garner - Bass
Rich Speakman - Drums

Guest violins by Katie Stone

All songs written by Mountains Crave
'Watcher by the Threshold' in memory of Paul Dowsett

Recorded by Ben Corkhill at Eiger Studios, October '14
Mixed & mastered by Tom Dring at Vagrant Recordings, November '14

Artwork by Joe McEvoy
Logo by Christophe Spzajdel
Layout by Dan Barter



all rights reserved


No Fun Intended Leeds, UK

Leeds-based extreme/underground metal label and promotions.

Mountains Crave 'S/T EP'

Formes 'Dysphoria Part 1'

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Track Name: Watcher by the Threshold
Track Name: These Spirits Listen
Crystalline halos 
Of boiling tumult
Miasmal auroras 
Of crashing turmoil

Upon which floats man 
Atop the flesh of trees
Crowning dismal spheres
Impenetrable dark

Into yawning 
Mouths which swallow 
Mighty mountains
Silent waters

Veiled shadows
Deep recesses 
Far beyond realms 
Man inhabits

Spirits of 
The vasty deep

Where time regresses to prehistory
And delicate sprites float ethereally
Glimmering with a celestial light
Their vestigial eyes bereft of sight
Bestial visages adorned with jewels
Enthrallingly garish to moribund fools
Who've seen the light in their darkest hour
Before ragged jaws part and devour

When I call
From the vasty depths of the sea
These spirits listen to me
Track Name: The Violet Hour
Between boundless immensities glimmers a wan light
Where eyes no longer chain a ponderous millstone to her sight
Suspended in black vapours, prone in a perfect repose
Sapphire lunar splendour clothes her in majestic robes
Decaying leaves and soil bestow a blanket from the cold
The trees howl from a forest immemorially old
Her mind a glassy lake, serene in her inky stasis
The wind etches no ripples across her still consciousness

Her breath's burning clouds
Waking eyes enshroud
Her soul in twilit limbo, prostrate on the forest floor
Wandering in silence crepuscular corridor 
Sweet music has soured
The Violet hour
Entombed in shining darkness, trapped in radiant abyss
Condemned to meander through a world of indistinctness

In this Violet hour

Enswathed in ashen grave cloth, enwreathed in pallid womb
Senses overtaken by the silence of her woodland tomb

Between boundless immensities glimmers a wan light
Where eyes no longer chain a ponderous millstone to her sight
Suspended in black vapours, prone in a perfect repose
Sapphire lunar splendour clothes her in majestic robes
Track Name: City of the Immortals
I, servant of Diocletian 
Heard from a dying man
Of a city built by a river
Which makes men immortal

I wandered day and night, as my body burned with thirst 
I looked on blackened sands and beheld the fevered moon

I ventured forth to burning lands
Dwelling of the serpent eaters
Leading my men into whited death
Garamants and cursed augyls
Claimed many with magic and madness
Until I stood alone as one

Inverted staircases leer vexatious in the murk
Standing after Homer had forgotten his famed work
Ancient cenotaph to life's mocking futility
Nothing left but reflection throughout eternity

Gazing as the heavens turn
In transcendent reverie
Subvert the body's mastery
Solid flesh to burn

Rain and tears traverse fissures
Gazing past both time and space
A wizened and decrepit face
Carved by untold years

Infinity is unfurled
I am god, I am hero
And I am philosopher
I am demon, I am world

This palace is
A fabrication of the gods
The gods who built it have died
The gods who built it were mad

Architecture sordid and misleading galleries 
Claustrophobic nightmare wandering stone arteries
Antediluvian antiquity manifest
Atrociously interminable, Complexly senseless
Track Name: River, Breeze, Soil and Flame
When Hades reclaims his radiant queen
The land's transcendent splendour can no more be seen
And the grim, despondent mountains rail 
At the valley's lustre, bright yet frail
A sea of cadaverous drear lies replete upon the land

Fell omens arrive on the breeze
From frozen lands over the seas

Flowers hang their ashen heads
The last embers of summer are dead

The stream’s whispers no longer heard
The sun left to carrion birds

The trees weep auburn tears to the ground
Their skeletons mark a burial mound

Soil chokes with feculent ire
Golden crackle of funeral pyre

Robes of ivory enshroud the pines
Winter’s crown of icicles shines

River, breeze, soil and flame
Life is a crying shame