Hier gibt es Texte zu lesen, die Claus 'Mouth' Leitner einerseits am laufenden Band ersinnt und die andererseits auch schon eine musikalische Bearbeitung der 'stummen' Mahones erfahren haben. Die Sammlung ist bei weitem nicht vollständig und wird in der nächsten Zeit (vielleicht) weiter ergänzt!



The Eyes Of Hate Dancing Wheels (in Arbeit)
Phobia of Darkness Kilkelly H

The Eyes Of Hate
Sept. 1991, arr. 10/08/1996
Copyright © 1991
by Claus Leitner

Spare to look the eyes of hate
Humilating, the image lies
Tremendous world of thoughts
Mankind will penetrate
Into reflecting vengeful eyes

Morbid lust felt through time
The greed entwines posessions
Envy, the raked ambers
Of all the countless crimes
Slow death's besoming the obsession

Contact a strange dimension
Arousing incredible tension
The eyes of hate, the eyes of hate
So cruel

Dark the horizone of mind
Mercy of inexoriable growth
Uneasiness of the unknown
Demons, been born blind
In all offences mighty foes

Existence of souls ever denied
The destructive an pure hate
Against the innocent fear
Expressions extremely horrified
Escaping through a closing gate

Unveiled truth not visible
Lunacy became th principle
The eyes of hate, the eyes of hate
Now cry

The prospect of flight is taken
Strange ideas of sick minds
Showing now the terror
The world of thoughts forsaken
To the victims of mankind

Pursue an undefined course
No single trace of remorse
The eyes of hate, the eyes of hate
Now bleed


Phobia Of Darkness
31/03/1991, rearr. 19 and 29/12/1996
Copyright © 1991
Claus Leitner

In cold and lonely nights you shiver
Without light, exposed to darkness
A deadly silence covers this night
You cannot move, don't dare to breathe
Something's out in the dark
Cold and wet down your spine

A scream in your dry throat
Your body is like paralyzed
Sweat perspires on your forehead
Isn't there a strange sound?
You cannot identify, unhuman
Heart is beating at full speed

Lead me out of this hell
Something will do me harm
I am so scared of this
Please show me the stars

Listen to the steps sounding near
Frightened by this nightmare
This darkness drives you mad
How long till the sun awakens?
You smell a somehow rotten stench
What monster could that be?

Damp fumes reaching your nose
You're close to lose your mind
There's something in front of you
The image of an ugly creature
Lurking in the city's sewers
Sure it will drag you down

Phobia of darkness
The herald of death
Sinister darkness
Please turn on the light

Again there is only silence
All those sounds have gone
Only the unpleasant stench remains
Now you're afraid of the sun
She might show the death of night
A deadly dream has taken shape


Copyright © 1997
Claus Leitner

Celebrate the birthday of a butterfly
Christ Pope kissing Mochovce ground
Pavarotti is performing the damnation cry
The lost and found office can´t be found
Jane is dead, so farewell goodbye
Jason prefered to go underground
War and peace are different lies
Explain noise to me, I hear no sound

A street with red-brick houses
Traffic lights with a range of colours
Everything is red & blue & green
The ground is as hard as to be clean

Somewhere on Earth are children growing
And the marching men torn into pieces
Moroseness keep on sowing
As inhumanity on this planet increases
Bloody streams keep on flowing
Population manifestating on diseases
A rotten farmer is still mowing
Destruction of culture is so easy

Up & down & right & left
Be it toilet or a public house
Everything is dead & sweat & mean
A madman´s fuck on this scene

Up & down, I spin around
Up & down, I hit the ground
Get lost, please get fucken lost
I am the world that kills me


Dancing Wheels
Copyright © 1997
Claus Leitner

in Arbeit



by Peter Jones

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1860, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend schoolmaster Pat McNamara's so good
as to write these words down.
Your brothers have all got a fine work in England,
the house is so empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected,
a third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell
are going to be married in June.
Mother says not to work on the railroad
and be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1870, my dear and loving son John
Hello to your Mrs and to your 4 children,
may they grow healthy and strong.
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
I suppose that he never will learn.
Because of the darkness there's no turf to speak of
and now we have nothing to burn.
And Brigid is happy, we named a child for her
and now she's got six of her own.
You say you found work, but you don't say
what kind or when you will be coming home.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1880, dear Michael and John, my sons
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news
that your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
your brothers and Brigid were there.
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly,
remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning,
with money he's sure to buy land
For the crop has been bad and the people
are selling at every price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1890, my dear and loving son John
I suppose that I must be close on eighty,
it's thirty years since goodbye.
Because of all of the money you send me,
I'm still living out on my own.
Michael has built himself a fine house
and Brigid's daughters have grown.
Thank you for sending your family picture,
they're lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit,
what joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1892, my dear brother John
I'm sorry I didn't write sooner to tell you, but father passed on.
He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful
and healthy right down to the end.
Ah, you should have seen him play with
the grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother,
down at the Kilkelly churchyard.
He was a strong and a feisty old man,
considering his life was so hard.
And it's funny the way he kept talking about you,
he called for you in the end.
Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit,

we'd all love to see you again.

  to be continued


Copyright © 1997 Fabian Seydewitz
Stand: 09. März 1998