*Deathwish, Romeo's Distress (version), Dogs, Desperate Hell, Spiritual Cramp (version) and Cavity (version)
are bonus tracks on releases marked ** only and previously released on the Deathwish album

Musicians: Rozz Williams (vocals), Rikk Agnew (guitar), James McGearty (bass), George Belanger (drums)
            Eva Ortiz (backing vocals), Ron Athey (backing vocals)

Special Thanks: Ed Colver, 45 Grave, Todd, Frank Agnew, and everyone else to whom we should give thanks

Frontier Records, Future Records, Normal Records, VAP Records & Epitath release
Cover concept and drawing: Rozz Williams
Additional embalming: D.Z.
All photos: Ed Colver

I saw that the Marquess de Verneuil was holding a bitch in heat.Two characters arrived who had the same appearance; one was wearing a golden collar and the other's throat was completely full of saliva, otherwise called spit, and both of them wanted the bitch.The one who wanted to put the golden collar on the bitch was bitten by her; and when the bitch finally had the collar on she became a young damsel, and when she had taken it off she turned back into a bitch.The character who had the spit in his mouth spat on her and the bitch followed him and gave herself up to him.

There are times in life when a man, with matted hair and staring eye, casts a wild look onto the green membranes of space; for he seems to hear in front of him the ironic hooting of a ghost. He staggers and bends his head; what he has heard is the voice of conscience. So he flings himself from the house with the speed of a madman, taking the first direction which offers itself to his amazement, and eats up the rough plains of the country. But the yellow ghost does not lose sight of him, and pursues him on with the same speed. Sometimes, on a stormy night, while the legions of winged octopuses, which from afar look like crows, glide above the clouds in a straight line towards the cities of humans, with the mission of warning them to change their ways, a dark-eyed stone sees two beings pass by in the flash of lightning one behind the other: and brushing aside a furtive tear of compassion which trickles down from his frozen eyelid, it cries to itself: "to be sure, he deserves it; 'tis only justice." This being said it turns back to its fierce gazing, and continues to watch the manhunt, with a nervous tremble, and the hugh lips of the vagina of shadow, from which flow, like a never-ending river, giant gloomy spermatozoides which take their flight in the ethereal darkness, hiding as they do, with the immense span of their bats' wings the whole of nature and the lonely legions of octopuses that have grown gloomy at the sight of these deaf, indescribable lightning flashes. During this time, however, the steeplechase continues between the two tireless runners, and the ghost roars torrents of fire from her mouth onto the burnt back of the human antilope. If while doing her duty she meets pity on the road which wishes to stop her from continuing, she gives in with disgust to its beseechings, and lets the man escape. The ghost smacks her lips, as if to tell herself that she is going to give up the chase, and returns to her kennel, until further orders. Her voice of the damned can be heard unto the furthest reaches of space; and when her horrible howling penetrates a human heart, they say a man wishes he rather had death for a mother than remorse for a son. He buries his head up to the shoulders in the earthy complications of a hole; but conscience makes this ostrich' trick disappear into thin air. The excavation evaporates in an ethereal drop; light appears, with its radiant funeral procession, like a flight of curlews swooping down on lavender; and the man finds himself face to face with himself, his eyes wide open and aghast. I saw him head for the sea, climb up onto some rugged cliff, battered by eyebrows of spray; and, like an arrow, throw himself into the waves. Here is the miracle; the corpse reappeared the next day on the ocean's surface, which returned the wreck of flesh to the shore. The man broke free from the mould which his body had dug in the sand, wrang the water from his wet hair, and once again, with his forehead silent and bent forward, he returned to the road of life. Conscience severly judges even our most secret thoughts and deeds, and is never fooled. As she is often powerless to prevent evil, she never stops hunting man like a fox, above all during the darkness. Avenging eyes, which science of ignorance calls meteors, cast a livid flame as they pass by, spinning on themselves, and speaking mysterious words... which he understands! Then his bedside is pounded bt the shaking of his body, burdened with the weight of insomnia, and he hears the sinister breathing of vague murmurs in the night. The angel of sleep himself, mortally wounded in the forehead by an unknown stone, gives up the task, and climbs to the heavens. Very well then, here I am myself to defend men this time; I, who am contemptuous of all the virtues; I, who have never been able to forget the Creator since that glorious day when, I overturned from their pedestal the annals of heaven, wherein were kept, by God knows what shady dealings, His power and His eternity, where upon I applied my four hundred cupping-glasses under his armpit, and made him scream in terror... The screams turned into vipers as they escaped from his mouth, and went to hide themselves in the bushes, in ruined walls, always on the watch, by day and by night. These cries as they crawled, with their countless coils, and their small flat heads and shifty eyes, have sworn to bow to human innocence; and when it is wandering in the tangled undergrowth, or on the far side of banks or in the sand of the dunes, it does not waste a moment to change tune. And yet, there is still time; for sometimes a man sees the poison enter the veins of his leg, by an almost imperceptible bite, before he has time to turn back and make for the open spaces. In this way the Creator, with an admirable stoicism even during the most atrocious suffering, knows how to extract from their own breast, germs which are harmful to the earth's inhabitants. What was his astonishment when he saw Maldrador, who had been transformed into an octopus, advancing towards his body with his eight hugh limbs, each one of which was strong as a rope, and could easily have covered the circumference of a planet. Caught unawares, he fought for a few moments against the slimy grip which was tightening more and more... I feared an underhand blow from him; after feeding abundantly on the globules of this sacred blood, I suddenly broke free from his majestuous body, and hid myself in a cave, which has been my home ever since. After fruitless searching he could not find me there. That was a long time ago; but I think he now knows where my home is; he takes care not to come in; we live, the two of us, like two neighbouring monarchs who know their respective strengths, who cannot beat each other, and who are tired of the useless battles of the past. He fears me, and I fear him; each, without being beaten, has gone through the worst blows of his opponent, and there we stand. I am ready, however, to begin the fight again whenever he wishes. But he should not expect some favorable opportunity for his hidden plans. I shall always be on my guard, by keeping an eye on him. There is no point in his sending conscience and her tortures again to earth. I have taught men the arms with which they can fight her at an advantage. They are not yet familiar with her; but you know that as far as I am concerned she is just so much straw in the wind. I take just as much notice. If I wanted to profit by this occasion which has presented itself, and raise the tone of these poetic discussions, I should add that I take more notice of straw than of conscience; for straw is useful to the cow that eats it, whereas conscience only knows how to show her steel claws. They suffered a miserable failure the day that they placed themselves before me. Since conscience had been sent by the Creator, I thought it only proper that I should not allow myself to be blocked by her. If she had presented herself with the modesty and humility which becomes her rank, and which she should never have left, I would have listened to her. I did not care for her pride. I held out my hand, and under my fingers her claws were crushed; they turned to dust under the increasing pressure of this new form of mortar. I held out the other hand and tore off her head. I then drove this woman out, with the lash of the whip, and I never saw her again. I have kept her head as a souvenir of my victory... A head in hand, gnawing at its skull, I stood on one foot like a heron, on the edge of a precipice eaten into the sides of a mountain. I was seen coming down to the valley, while the skin of my chest was motionless and calm, like the lid of a tomb! A head in hand, and gnawing at its skull, I swam in the most dangerous of abysses, ran along mortal reefs and dived deeper than the currents, to see as a stranger the combats of sea monsters; I left the shore, until it vanished from my piercing sight; while hideous cramps with their paralysing magnetism prowled around but dared not approach my limbs, which clove the waves with strong strokes. I was seen returning safe and sound onto the beach while the skin of my chest was motionless and calm, like the lid of a tomb! A head in hand, gnawing at its skull, I crossed the rising steps of a higher tower. I arrived with tired legs on a dizzying platform. I looked at the countryside, at the sea; I gazed at the sun and the stars; pushing back with my foot the granite which would not retreat I defied death and divine vengeance with a supreme cry, and threw myself, like a stone, into the mouth of space. Men heard the painful, resounding thud which came from the encounter of the ground with the head of conscience which I had abandoned in my fall. I was seen coming down, with the slowness of a bird, carried by some invisible cloud, and pick up the head, to force it to be witness to a triple crime which I was to commit that very day, while the skin of my chest was motionless and calm like the lid of a tomb! A head in hand, gnawing at its skull, I made my way to the place where the poles rise that hold up the gillotine. I placed the smooth grace of the necks of three young girls under the blade. As public executioner I let go the rope with the apparent experience of a lifetime; and triangular blade, failing obliquely, cut off the three heads which quietly watched me. I then put my own head under the heavy knife, and the executioner prepared to do his duty. Thrice fell the blade between the rails with a new force; thrice, my material carcass was shaken, above all at the base of the neck, to the very depths of its being, as when one sees oneself take part in a dream, and be crushed by a collapsing house. The astonished people let me by, to leave that funeral place; they saw me, with my elbows, open up their moving mass, and shake myself, full of life, advance straight in front of me, with my head high, while the skin of my chest was motionless and calm like the lid of a tomb! I said I wished to defend man, this time; but I fear that my apology is not the expression of the truth; and therefore, I prefer to be silent. It is with grateful thanks that humanity will applaud this move!