The Norr

from by Morrow

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    Single LP, matt black printed covers, large 11 inch x 11 inch art booklet, standard black 180 gram vinyl.


    Includes unlimited streaming of Covenant Of Teeth via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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Spoken word (In English from Swedish)

"Why do we bring gifts to the trees?
The trees are very old, they have offered us their shelter and wood for fire for a very long time, we learn to live as one with the trees, they are nourished by our presence!
I can see their faces in the bark, they are smiling at us!
Yes, you can see the faces of your ancestors. When we die, we bury our loved ones at the foot of each tree, they become one with the roots, and within the trees great trunks they live forever.
Listen, mother, I can hear them laughing in the branches, they are happy we are here!"

each familial notch thats cut
read the braille of wending rhyme
each blemish or scourge that you’ll find
speaks of our wrath renounced

eminent crown!
the bitter king!
crystalline gown!
so resplendent!

facia of ice so faceted
blue hues striate and sing
the crisp staccato of our city of frost
hyperborean borne

the sterns and bows of starveling ships
desiccate limbs seek egress
to touch the hot bite of tender skin
the iron pit black against our flame

these husks of unknowable ore
chitinous caverns that now bore
the raucous laughter and bilious throngs
that give meat to these tired old bones

frigid gasps seek to drag us astray
oh how it wishes to break us this friend
a tired old bastard cracked and worn
but the ice does not know that the ice is our home

there were monsters out on the ice
wept out of fevers we could never visualise
we coddled ourselves in the refuge of kin
conjured up demons from primordial din

but the demons strayed upon our land with deathly want
They took that which was not theres to take, and so we fought
They tried so hard to make us bleed; they will not live

fetishes lashed against carrion ribs,
the watchman gaze between lachrymose lids
pitiful holes offer feasts to our dread
we baton the gnawing, the beast is bested

we lick of the fevered blood
revive its vile impediment
the slight of remnant dread
we dare not slake of its thirst

lucidity lost amidst corruption of want
to torrify skin under torches blush
suffused with a vex our petrified stare
before us the fringe of all that we are

the nights swept up auroral swathes
reverent cloth exhort your light
spirit folds blossom, cavort and wane
the drawn night holds us ever so tight

seize us
we promise to listen
offer us
we promise to listen

proud inside us the baritone throats
the mothers and fathers who farewell their kin
to pride beside us as our equivalents
into violent wilds beyond solace

we claim this ice as shelter
matrimony with water and earth
the branches bend for our bows
the nourishing wealth, cloth and twine

what malice of mouth and teeth
that seek nothing but to do harm

we are nothing but the ice made flesh
we seek nothing but our right in rest

what cost what terrible price must we pay?

we are nothing but the ice made flesh
we seek nothing but our right in rest


from Covenant Of Teeth, released April 8, 2016



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Morrow London, UK

voices of a reclaimed earth

Emocrust from London, UK

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