by El-Ahrairah

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released May 25, 2016

Recorded at The Library Recording Studio June 13th and 14th, 2014 by Graham Barton

Mixed by Travis Nordahl

Mastered by Graham Barton

Produced by El-Ahrairah

Art by Dan Wieken

El-Ahrairah is:

Travis Nordahl - Guitar, Vocals
Dillon Allison - Drums
Sam Loesch - Synth, Harmonium, Vocals
Arron Mclean - Bass, Piano, Vocals
Graham Barton - Guitar solos



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El-Ahrairah Minnesota

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Track Name: Stone Throwers
small pines cut and thrust in earth
a ragged line on a hill
stripped trees and rough faces stagger symbols carved into the fort-side
in the river, more moan and piss collecting rounded stones comparing each to a fist
and beating their chests raw
braided wool is soaked in blood insults crudely painted
on ammunition and skulls death is worshipped
the stone throwers are calling drugged clan of outlaws
the stone throwers are howling collectors of bones
Track Name: Gates of Dawn
White wood and crimson leaves surround My tongue swollen with fear
My pale face burns
I am become death
That dagger, o that hideous blade,
slay and fell the nameless beast.
My hands danced so gracefully
Slicing with will and power
And as his blood pools round my boots I see my pure face in his
Pure, in the gods, in the land
Pure, in the strike of my hand
Sabre and hammer
Mock the Gates of Dawn
Track Name: They Wore the Wind
Four men cloaked in grey Centered in a frozen field Surrounded by ravens
And shrouded by thin fog
I saw them from a distance And thought them a mirage As I announced myself
No feather rustled
They remained motionless
As a gust blew from the South
They crumbled before my eyes And lay as a pile of ash
The wind carried a darkness that swept away their bones The wind carried a darkness that swept away all joy
Track Name: Drown Alone
Golden leaves fall peacefully on churning frigid waters.
The Moon’s milk spills down the shoreline.
Golden leaves collect on his pale blue skin
As he bobs softly in the autumn wind.
Rope rotted round his throat, ragged grave brown, Dead man's fingers worn as a sullen crown.
The sky’s spark conquers heavy night
As he sinks into Superior waters.
In death, he has found strength, Honour and pride
Adorned with beautiful jewels Of ice and snow and gold
Drown Alone
He is whole
Bloated and strong
To drown alone
Track Name: Cut Like Rogues
Perched upon his throne Smugly grinning
As he watches the dance Bodies flow and fall Steel clashes on iron
He is not afraid to die It is destined to be Daggers float swiftly He is cut like a rogue His crown is stripped Hail the new dawn The tyrant has fell
In the throne room
She stands frozen by fear Seeing the blood cascade Down the golden legs
She cries in terror
As the black angels take her They bind her face
She drops to her knees
She is cut like a rogue
Her crown is stripped
Hail the new dawn
The tyrant has fell
They are cut like rogues Their crowns stripped Hail the new dawn
The Tyrants have fell
Track Name: White Kingdom
The white kingdom has failed
Upon my throne, I can see the flames
The horrors that have befallen the city And the evil that is grown too great
The gate will not hold
The walls will crumble
The keep will fall under a shadow
And be crushed by a terrible hand
Prepare my pyre
Lay the oak round me
I gaze upon the stone lords and princes Immortalized in marble and granite
Tall and terrible they are, with eyes of grey And grim faces unchanged for ages
Their hall shall my ashes forever lie
As one with the heathen gods of old --
So it is destined to be
That I shall burn with my city
Douse me with the oil Torch the oak
Track Name: Ostrakon
name of bastard scratched in clay
ostrakon of christian slave
crippled seer
slighted cross
dropped from cliff
in slighted toss
city of judah ostrakon
crushed by filth of babylon
crippled seer razed the cross
burned the scrolls and razed the cross
charred bulla in the hands of servants in temples, dead next to sons of kings
Track Name: Rind of the Earth
We sat gathered round the cairn,
Dressed in dark hides and frozen grey eyes
Etching names onto stones
And casting them to the flames
Our hammers raised in triumph
Of Spring’s fine blade
That peeled the rind of winter
And sliced the hand of death
Ragged, we who stood there
That morning of bloom and birth
Gave offerings to Idun
And journeyed home again
It crossed all Europe like a mystic road,
Or as the spirits' pathway lieth on the night. And I heard a voice crying
This is the path of glory.