Lyrics for Album "Black Fog Over Camden"
01 - Under the sea
Under the earth
There are things happening
Out in space — things you wouldn't believe
All the lights seen on New Year's Eve
Sound like a church organ
Under the streets of London
And they call from somewhere else
Like a warning
Listen closely
The light will go out
And fade, like Big Ben’s chime
Lost souls are praying
For the end of days
Those long gone, whispering
"Fear not"
Will be just a satellite circling the Earth
I need a fix
Something real
Something authentic
A ghost of a thought — sharp with claws
The earth will dry up and be replaced
Just wait...
All who remain
will hunt for what was lost
Under the sea
(Under the sea)
Under the streets of London
(London)
02 - The Gutter Prophet
He sleeps near the old electric wires
Mouth full of ash, eyes like dying coals
Speaking in loops, he hums the Empire’s end
Says he saw angels crawling through manholes
He draws maps in the dirt of Soho
Lines and signs — "Follow the cracks below"
Laughs when the neon flickers and dies
"Your kings are worms now," he softly cries
He says the clocks have stopped for a reason
He says the fog ain’t just the season
Listen close...
The gutter prophet knows the score
He’s seen the shadow behind the door
He whispers truths the sane ignore
"London's heart will beat no more"
He once was a preacher, or maybe a thief
Claims the river speaks to him in grief
Talks of a choir beneath the drain
Singing dirges to drown the pain
He says the rain’s just warning tears
That something comes in coming years
Listen close...
The gutter prophet knows the score
He’s seen the shadow behind the door
He whispers truths the sane ignore
"London’s heart will beat no more"
He touched the cracks on Charing Cross
Said he heard the city's loss
"Under the sea, under the stone,
You’ll find the truth — but not alone..."
They left him there, with broken teeth
But I heard him still — beneath
The city breathing, coughing dust
And his voice, still warning:
"Descend… you must."
03 - Black Fog Over Camden
Came creeping up from Chalk Farm way
At first just mist — or so they’d say
Then darker still, it filled the air
With no breeze to move it anywhere
No footstep echoed on the street
Shops stood silent, none to greet
One by one, they locked their doors
Some prayed, some drank, some watched from floors
And the lamps went blind that night
No flame, no spark, no guiding light
Only the fog… so thick, so black
And voices whispered: “Don’t look back.”
Black fog over Camden Town
Swallowin' roofs, chokin' the sound
Those who breathe it, lose their names
And walk like ghosts through soot and flames
I saw a lad run, his breath was red
He swore he saw his father — dead
Standing in the fog, calm and tall
But when he reached, there was none at all
Now the trains don’t run through Kentish Line
And the bells of St. Martin ceased to chime
No pigeons perch, no cabs do ride
Only the hush, and what may hide...
Black fog over Camden Town
Creepin’ in slow, settin' down
A funeral shroud with no parade
And every eye grows cold, afraid
They say it leads beneath the floor
To iron halls and ancient lore
To those who wait, beneath the ground
In silence vast, where none make sound...
Black fog, black fog…
O Camden’s gone, and so are we
Driftin’ down, like London’s plea...
04 - Tower in the Mist
"There’s a tower that no man sees…
Only those who’ve lost something deep.”
By Tower Bridge, near river’s bend
Where fog runs deep and streetlights end
I saw a shape the sky denied
A shadow tall the stars can’t hide
It wasn’t made by mortal hand
No scaffolds, stone, nor builder’s brand
It stood in stillness, cold and vast
A relic born before the past
I looked once — it looked back
And time itself began to crack
Within its walls, I glimpsed a face
Mine — but not in this place
Tower in the mist, unseen by day
Calls the broken ones who’ve lost their way
It holds a glass that shows the world
Before the gears of fate unfurled
The Thames stood still, the air grew thin
I felt it pulling from within
A mirror turned, a gate of breath
Where all who enter lose their death
Old gods sleep beneath its stair
They hum in codes and ancient prayer
London weeps but none resist
The song that flows from out the mist
Tower in the mist, behind the veil
Echoes a truth too strange to tell
A second London, pale and grey
Where souls once lost still find their way
I turned away, I dared not climb
But still I hear its distant chime
Not made of bells, but hollow light
That sings to me each sleepless night
Tower in the mist…
She waits for me still
On the edge of the real…
And what was willed.
Tower in the mist...
05 - Voices in the Thames
Walkin’ by the river’s side, near Southwark’s bone-white pier
I heard a song beneath the tide — a hymn not meant for ears
Not seagulls, not the wind, nor boatmen lost in fog
But voices thick as silted dreams, rising from the bog
They whispered names I’d never known
And some that once were mine
They told of streets with silver stones
And towers lost to time
I leaned in close — the current spoke
A city split beneath the smoke
One lives in light, the other drowned
And I walk both without a sound
Voices in the Thames, calling through the foam
Singing of a London no map has ever shown
Reflections twist and lie — the river doesn’t sleep
She keeps the truth in tides, and drowns what she can’t keep
The water’s black, but dreams are red
And somewhere in the stream
I saw myself with hollow eyes
Living in a dream
A child ran past in sailor’s dress
From decades buried deep
She looked at me, then disappeared
Beneath the waves' slow sweep
They say the Thames forgets no face
No crime, no kiss, no fall from grace
It shows you what the mind has hid
And things you thought the past had rid
Voices in the Thames, whispering below
A tale of mirrored cities, where none but I may go
I touched the surface once — and nearly lost my name
But now I walk with two — and none of them the same
"The river runs both forward... (and back)
And those who listen (long enough)
Are never truly whole again."
06 - Cathedral of Rust
I followed cracks beneath the stone
Where gaslight flickers all alone
Through dripping halls and rusted rail
Where once the choir sang the Grail
But here, no saints or sacred hymns
Just clanks of steel with broken limbs
A shrine of gears, all laced in grime
And screens that chant in silent rhyme
Candles made of copper wire
Smoke that reeks of melted fire
Priests in robes of oil-stained thread
Bowing low to what’s long dead
Cathedral of Rust, where gods don't speak
But piston prayers and circuits creak
They worship spark and shattered core
The holy code, the data lore
An altar built of broken dials
With sacred texts in paper files
A choir of drones with hollow eyes
Sing algorithms to the skies
I asked, "What faith could rot like this?"
They answered, "Progress never missed."
"The world above forgot to feel...
So we kneel here — to cold and steel."
Cathedral of Rust, beneath the stone
Where flesh is weak, and wires have grown
They praise the hum, the echo lost
In vaults where even time has frost
"The end began not with a war...
But with the silence of a screen.
When men forgot their trembling hands
And built new gods inside machines."
Cathedral of rust…
Our prayers are code…
We kneel… we wait…
We rust… alone.
07 - The Hourglass Man
He stood beneath a rusted arch
Where clocks had bled and bells won’t march
His robe was stitched with threads of dusk
His face, a mask of smoke and dust
In silent hands he held the sand
That shaped the time of all this land
Not hours marked by sun or chime
But pulses buried deep in grime
I asked his name — he turned away
And tilted slow that glass of grey
The sky turned red, the wind stood still
And all of London held its will
The Hourglass Man, keeper of decay
Turns the tide of night and day
He doesn’t speak, but time obeys
The shifting dust of former days
He showed me visions not yet born
Of bridges cracked and children torn
A London split by rift and flame
Where all who ran forgot their name
Each grain of sand, a scream, a choice
A memory trapped without a voice
He gave me none, but I still knew:
When his glass breaks, we break too
The Hourglass Man, master of regret
Knows the end, but won’t forget
His measure runs not fast, nor slow
It moves where truth is not to show
(In every crack beneath your feet)
There lies a second heartbeat.
(You think you walk in present time…)
But his sand decides the rhyme.
Hourglass man…
I saw your hand
And now I know…
I’ll never stand
In time again.
08 - The Nameless Bell
"Can you hear it?
It tolls for the ones who never left."
At midnight sharp, it starts to chime
From somewhere lost beyond the grime
No soul alive recalls its place
Yet all the dead have seen its face
The bell rings twelve, but none reply
Just rusted wind and guttered sky
The sound drips cold, like candle tears
And conjures ghosts from vanished years
I saw a chapel made of smoke
Its spire cracked, its sermons broke
And in the mist, a crowd stood still
Each with a name that time would kill
The Nameless Bell — it tolls for those
Whose stories sleep in cobbled rows
No monument, no grave, no page
Just echoes locked in underground age
I knelt before that sound so deep
It echoed through my skin like sleep
And every chime, a wound returned
A past I’d never lived — but learned
I heard my name among the call
Though I had never lived that fall
A second self, a life unwound
Buried beneath this haunted ground
The Nameless Bell — it rings unseen
Its metal forged in might-have-been
It shakes the world but leaves no scar
A sound remembered from afar
"It rings for kings that time forgot
For children born in plague and rot
For lovers lost to soot and flame
And all who died without a name."
Bell with no tower…
Song with no tongue…
You toll for the living…
And silence the young.
09 - Final Broadcast from Whitechapel
"...this is... station zero... Whitechapel… If anyone still… listening…"
I found the signal in a box of dust
A whisper lost in gears and rust
Among the bones of platform nine
A voice broke through electric wine
It said: “The cities fell, but no one cried
The hearts were gone before we died
They moved like men, but none were real
Just echoes with a human feel”
Transistors hum where souls once sang
Now memories play in feedback slang
You wear your past like borrowed skin
But there's no one left within
Final broadcast — signal low
From down in Whitechapel’s glow
It says we’re ghosts, just walking loops
Coded dreams in empty suits
“Your mother’s laugh, your father’s frown —
Stored in waves and written down
A child cries inside a screen
But none remember what it means”
They say the sky still spins above
But no one here remembers love
Just sequences and broken codes
That drift through ash and fallen roads
Final broadcast — voice decays
We’re stories told in metal haze
We fade with each corrupted line
And never knew the end of time
“If you hear this… you’re not alone…
But you’re not you… not anymore…
This is the last… the last… the la—
10 - Ashes Over Westminster
I climbed the stairs through smoke and steel
The sky was grey, the ground surreal
No breath of wind, no flocks of wings
Just broken clocks and melted kings
Big Ben was bent, its face half-gone
Yet still it ticked a ghostly song
The river dried to stone and bone
And London stood… but stood alone
Ashes fell like winter's hymn
On empty streets and halls grown dim
A silence loud, a final sound
Of everything once lost, now found
Ashes over Westminster — snow that burned too slow
A kingdom without memory, beneath a haunted glow
The past collapsed, the future drowned
And time just stared, without a crown
I walked through fire that made no heat
Through flags and prayers crushed under feet
A voice inside me tried to cry
But all I had was “why?”
"They buried the soul beneath the wires
Built cathedrals with funeral choirs
And when the dust began to reign
There was no one left to name the pain"
Ashes over Westminster — the end was not a flame
But fading breath in statues grey, and no one left to blame
Yet still I stand, with rusted voice
To sing for those who had no choice
Ashes fall… like slow goodbyes
But something stirs beneath the skies
And in the dust… a breath… a spark…
A whisper from the London dark.
