by Epic Rain

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released August 1, 2011



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Epic Rain Iceland

The music of Epic Rain is rooted in underground hip-hop, but in later years he has widened the horizon and explored various music styles, including cabaret, dark folk, country and blues. Out of these traditional genres he has created a new and fascinating domain of sounds. ... more


  • Nov 17
    Rennes, France

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Track Name: breaking the chain
I´m running out of days stuck on a sable island
my shoes need shining and the typewriter is silent
strange rumbles an unknown destination
the birds fly south in a v formation
wild horses running the race tracks
i´m chasing tornados with folded road maps
coz each man hell is in a different place
mine is just hiding behind my ruined face
avoid mirrors lurking in the shadows
coz I walk alone with no one to follow
I fight the slow retreat blend into time
the calender is upside-down I move counterclockwise
ladies well they drain my senses
I'm out of focus jumping over barbwire fences
i´m senseless my old fashion desire
I crumble my poems and set´em on fire

hand's tied up with broken chains
1000 words I'm numb to pain
my life is in a picture frame
throwing curses at my name

I eat unhealthy and smoke to fast
always broke that´s a thing that will last
I talk to myself and complain about the cold
priority is wrong I put my girlfriend on hold
playing loud music i´m used to noise complaints
boys will be boys devils and saints
breaking empty promises 1000 excuses
ignorance is bliss and i´m covered in bruises

i´m changing people around me stay the same
the years go by with the water down the drain
outlines of tall buildings attack from within
urban landscape consumes a pedestrian
return back to my roots despite the bad weather
exaggerating my wins convincing storyteller
I sleep to noon dress in dark colors
and practice my lines with pride and honor
Track Name: casting shadows

as heaven and hell dance in the afternoon
we watch the sun surrender to the moon
a housewife puts on make up to get noticed by her man
no matter how much she hates it she must do it again
smoke in the mirror and cynical drunks
from now on you start taken your father´s drugs
a small town boy scrapes the scars of his hand
no matter how much he hates it he must do it again
shadows fall words are mistaken
love letters are burned and the past is forsaken
people move on in a search for dry land
no matter how much they hate it they must do it again
when life on paper pulls us down by the wings
and we simply don´t like the sound of things
knowing we need to cross this line in the sand
no matter how much we hate it we must do it again

as the crow flies
the wings cast shadows sleeping hallow
as the crow flies
straight in a perfect line

the murder of crows black staircases
dead flowers are pressed between blank pages
a young city girl has to take a firm stand
no matter how much she hates it she must do it again
digging a ditch by the low side of the road
tire swing by the lake and a broken milestone
a man who protects and serves brings down a friend
no matter how much he hates it he must do it again
navigating the sidewalks blood gets spilled
days run away like wild horses over the hills
things backfire people need to rethink their plans
no matter how much they hate it they must do it again
relying on a sack of religion after the downfall
frame my agony and hang it on the wall
the path I take is often chosen by life's demands
no matter how much I hate it I must do it again
Track Name: realness of a fiction

an old man at the bus station
sits alone and waits for the world to end
he smokes like a chimney
and holds tightly on a torn book in his left hand
each page keeps a secret
without any exaggeration
in a private universe
he saw his childhood drawn in a illustration

ever so often he falls to the ground
the realness of a fiction
the wind brings the bark of the hounds
the realness of a fiction
he took the first path away from this road
the realness of a fiction
with nothing to guide him except for his soul
the realness of a fiction

the cover of the book was blank
except for two digits up in the left corner
the numbers were the same as the age of the old man
who now felt it was written in his honor
he saw his whole life story
colored by the shades
the realness of a fiction
is seeing your own life being described on a page
Track Name: bird without feathers

kids riding bikes the world is gone mad
twitching in the sheets spiders in your bed
wild roses grow twin sisters cry
crows falling from the purgatory sky
we mime behind the mask pulling on a rope
love is forsaking razor finds the throat
sunny side down sitting on a cloud
idle hands bitter taste in a mouth
heavy rain stinking breath of undertakers
broken dreams sleeping under newspapers
deep troubled waters bottom of the barrel
candles burning out lonely christmas carols
life in a suitcase feet begin to bleed
faceless death on a one end street
people smell like gasoline the past is shattered
broken wings and a bird without feathers

falling down the wishing well
open road to hell
I disappear from your sight
masquerade the rainy night
knocking on wood till I break the spell
a ruined horse in the carousel

apocalyptic romance old blood on the tracks
broken wishbones rusty battle axe
sling shot gun the scarecrow gets mocked
boys tap dance as girls catwalk
fistful of sand sinking eye sockets
blank letters and torn out pockets
drunk clowns swinging old cattle whips
creased bow tie tiny walking stick
mouthful of jokes burned apple pie
a small twinkle in your daddy's brown eye
ghost in the attic trail of brown hair
the madness of a bliss becomes a nightmare
all pride is gone deception is the king
sad cinderella fake diamond ring
the world is made of gasoline the future is shattered
broken wings and a bird without feathers
Track Name: tired feet

heavy rain the moon is smiling mockingbirds and gusty winds
dead ringers road kills life is at a stand still
a rope is hanging from a tree a world is breathing underground
squeaking wheels horse carriage thunder makes electric sounds
blood is spilt from a stone resting eyes decompose
dry clay quiet times burning waters broken bones
silver clouds crooked lust dancing devil rusty gates
graveyard shifts empty bottles dusty shovels digging graves

drifting with the wind to a place of complete solitude
broken bones lay under my tired feet

bleaching sun cold breeze lights go out fallen leaves
trembling fingers drifting ashes lightning cracks while people sleep
death comes knocking wings cast shadows handwritten epitaph
rain in the afternoon lost dreams narrow path
stray dogs black cats flowers brought to a grave
night watch icy cloak bats hiding in a cave
blissful peace resting place stone the crows angels cry
brick wall inscriptions frozen lips and twilight sky

as I ramble down the street with high emotion
running fast I'm running from home
the open road leads me straight to the ocean
days to come I spend 'em all alone
Track Name: beacon
a guiding light that shines eternally
when the sun sinks low in a troubled sea
the day fades away and the shadows begin to fall
message in a bottle finds it's way to the shore
a man overboard and all hope is gone
coz the fog is thickest right before dawn
across the coastline the waves break the cliffs
as a dependable light guides the incoming ships
looking for landmarks a map unfolds
a light keeper lit candles for all the lost souls
above it all the white tower stands strong
a full resistance to even the worst kind of storms
ocean spiral a no man's land
bright things come to confusion as the clouds expand
all the seagulls cry as sailors disappear
so don't make a move till the coast is clear

Lonely hours walk quietly by
your name on my skin and black swan in the sky
your ghost in a shipwreck beneath the ocean it lies
your silhouette reflecting in the corner of my eye

dime cigars cheap import
gloomy sunday weather report
transistor radio roll top desk
steep staircase and old oil lamps
crackling fireplace broken light fixtures
as the wind knocks over the family pictures
remote island a breathtaking view
worn out tracks and the color blue
creative silence the ocean is still
handwritten letters black ink and a white quill
solitary life a man is lost for words
smashed up bike particles of rust and stuffed birds
synchronized telescope climbing a rope ladder
at daybreak trying to predict the weather
admire the shape of collected stones
a signal from the light keeper indicates it's safe to sail home