Includes unlimited streaming of Twilight Garden
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
€14EURor more
Record/Vinyl + Digital Album
Comes in a beautiful gatefold with translucid vinyl limited to 515 copies
(Rose not included)
Includes unlimited streaming of Twilight Garden
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
edition of 515
4 remaining
€25EURor more
lyrics
The king was looking at his crown
And his fame was long since gone
And the battle noises are drawing near
The king he stumbled from his throne
And grief cuts him to the bone
And the moon would light the valley
Night was golden
Night was golden
All his subjects were asleep
To the stable he would creep
And he mounted his black horse
He put spurs to its side
Until he reached a wooden hall
In the heart of the mountain wasteland
Night was golden
Night was golden
Night was golden
Night was golden
A thousand silver lurs would greet
And the horns were filled with mead
Women dancing around the fire
A greyish man with just one eye
Told him he had soon to die
But in this place he would be waiting
Night was golden
Night was golden
Filled with strength and confidence
He rode back to his elder son
My true heir your time has come
You will be the new king to rise
To the battle I must leave
With shield and sword to seal with blood
Night was golden
Night was golden
Night was golden
Night was golden
supported by 20 fans who also own “Night was Golden”
how do you really explain to somebody else how a particular sound, nuance, perspective, appeals to you?.....that being said, i fucking love this.
dag_nabbhett
supported by 18 fans who also own “Night was Golden”
Otherworldly. I can't imagine where this came from because it's unlike anything else I've ever heard. Few artists achieve such a unique sound. millicow
supported by 17 fans who also own “Night was Golden”
Music for all boys called Elis.
Elis, when the blackbird calls in the black wood, this is your downfall.
All Hail the ghosts of Monte Verità and the little rascals of Kibbo Kift. Mount Abraxas Press