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by Forlet Sires

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This night is long – forever. I drag this cross until the end. And so I ache. Despite all my endeavors, what has been done will always be, and so I ache… So I ache; this is it, the suffering, the epitome of self-defeat in humankind. Blistering discrepancy, the gleaming scar is peeling through the outer layer. Trapped inside a feeble mind, this is the ground that nourishes the fall of virtue. There is no heaven for us. Life is all about the pain you don’t cause. Stain your soul, give in to lust. Tear down what you’ve built throughout all those years. Hurt yourself, damage the one: take a leap and throw your heart away. Long indeed is the night. Though forlorn, I was still not alone. Your kind words made it worse, made it burn – For I know your love. Now, sometimes, you see… I lose sight, I heal. Undeserved; This curse of mine, calling for despair. Suffer in vain. Rite of the hopeless. You wallow in mud, ride with the lowest. Exit the shame, enter the thrill. Destroy yourself! Fill in the void, carnage and candor. It tears you apart, bitter and sweet. There is no self, rather a jigsaw and so you forget, so you dissolve. When the winds howl, douse the lot in gas. Find your way out, reject all the blame – hanging glory. Snow has come and below lies death. While it thaws, be there. Blight, decay, old ways… They remain in the same old place. So I ache, for you, what was…
You’re alive, alone. You’re afraid, you tried. Devils are in your mind, lining you up to die. Fade away, longing for more. Feel the void, mourn the waste of life. Youth was lost, faster than you thought. Midlife has passed, all you did was dreaming. Gently conditioned, ambition repressed by degrees. Chances arise, you’d leave ‘em out. Tailored asylums are reeling in all of the numb. Hypnotized, bright and dull. Time is thine and thine alone; you try to crawl back towards the light. The more you struggle, the more your mind derails and draws you into the ether below. Holy, holy stands the one who creates amongst a sea of rats. Weep not for what you could have been - infested and born from pain. Warped is the sight, where nothing shall thrive. Wasteland embraced, devoted disciple of hurt. Illness determined a course of decay. Blessed is the fool, corrosion on shameless display. Lonely, hollow servant sitting, watching, absorbing. Anxious, frightened coward. Feeding, shitting, dreaming. Time is thine and thine alone; there’s no one but yourself to blame. You’re passive, tired, careless. Bitching, moaning, wailing, striving with no effort. Rotten from the inside. Could you die with no regrets? Say, could you die with no remorse? Could you die with no regrets? Tell, could you die with no remorse right now?
Dead Skin 08:59
For all those who hide: What is morality? For all those outside: What makes the wrong right? Count your enemies, at least you’ll know you live. Unlike flies on shit, piled up like cowards. Wide-eyed we stumble further, sometimes you don’t belong… Now everything that made us feel is covered up by thick dead skin. Still confined by doubt and shapeless fear, locked up in this forgotten tomb. Still imprinted deep inside your soul, where dying ember will hold hope, ‘till you choose to stay down for good. Get a grip, one last time now. There’s no final solution, yet every movement got a counterweight. Lately, inhuman acts crush society: Pollution, sin, predilection for war. Come forth, once more. One more time to mess up. What we want are white walls, one more life to waste now. Once more ‘round we go. Let us waste our time, for a pleasant, diseased life. Since no one is eternal: Let them paint white walls. By the minute, the curtain falls, while we fight for no one. By the time unreason dies, we’ll be no more…
Cold sorrow claims all hope. Live on, for reasons unknown. Falling. Fallen. While I’m bleeding unappealing strands of purulence, I am feeding off a cyst on this dry cunt. Now I dance with the hounds, vile eyes stare at the craven. Grey livor mortis is smiling bright across my lying heart. Revelations of this live persist and form a bold river, waging a war on the sanity that’s left. I am kneeling on a graveyard full of cravings. Let me stay for a while, in a state of arrival. For a second there I longed for many things. On a second thought, I pray: release me. Liberate your mind, eliminate your goals. When the war is over, you may find yourself. Praise the god of thorns, lay down all your hope. Know it is the time to be alive in hell. Push me down, oh rabid one, I plead to be undone. I lust for all that makes me numb, I frown at every dawn, all life long. Cold sorrow claims life. Let go now. I am not, I was and will always be shaped by the horror, the conception of what I cannot comprehend. We roam this world alone, engulfed in utter silence. In spite of all the noise, devoid of heart and soul. Abandoned, forgotten, estranged to ourselves. The concept of existence is lost forever — a cluster of chances, gone wrong.


Confronted with the complex beauty of “Holy”, it is no surprise to find oneself left behind in disorientation and confusion. Forlet Sires continue their explorations of uneasy, heavy music – making classification in genre terms rather complicated. The four songs on this album create this elusive net of insecurity – you thought you knew where it’s heading, but that is false. This is the band on yet unreached heights in songwriting and creating atmosphere.
You can clearly see the urge and unique will of finding their own way in today’s field of heavy music – the surpassing of barriers is what you witness while following the band into their sonic abyss.


released April 20, 2019

Music and lyrics by Forlet Sires

Recorded at Gaswerk Winterthur by Forlet Sires
Recording assistance by Pascal Pendl and George Necola
Mixed by Billy Anderson
Mastered by Justin Weis

Artwork by Adam Burke
Photography by Lea Reutimann
Layout by Forlet Sires

Released through Cruel Bones Records


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Forlet Sires Winterthur, Switzerland

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