I No Longer Know If I Am Mad
Age of Silence Lyrics


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I no longer know if I am mad
Or if I'm feigning it to cover my own mediocrity
I sometimes feel like a fell wizened necromancer
Labouring at his pleasure
Performing his liturgy as one long consumed by ashes

Factory fumes nourishing the dreams of the cosmopolite
Affectionate longing for white coats, auditoriums and blackboard dust
Spiraling walkways, webs of concrete, bricks and mirrored glass
I no longer know if I have experienced passion/love/despair/hate
Was it only socially induced behaviour?
Like long forgotten twisted poetry
Gleaned from mouldy parchment

Pain is always more real than bliss
It's in greater supply
It's the warm familiar womb in which your mind can hide
As your open doors and portals
Walk the paved paths to offerings
Foiled predetermined neurological patterns
Like paper boats bound for the drains
You speak the incantations written on grey mortal walls
Syllables tasting like blood in your mouth
You know absolution
You know mortality

Reality slowly peeled layer by layer
Outwards to the fringe where upon the altar of forgotten deities
The combustion of the self still vibrates
Dark flowers thrusting their thorns up
Reaching where manifestations of the skies labour to fill the vacuum
You seek to explain the universe with numbers
Itch to fill in the final answer underlined twice




Like an infant you step into the first light at dawn
It's bright and bitter and sharp

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Age of Silence's song "I No Longer Know If I Am Mad" reflect a deep existential crisis experienced by the singer. The song is a reflection on the singer's loss of identity and the confusion that arises when one is unable to distinguish between genuine feelings and socially induced behavior. The singer is unsure if they are genuinely mad, or if they are pretending to be mad to cover up their own mediocrity. The lyrics paint a picture of a person who is struggling to find meaning in a world that seems to offer only a hollow existence.


The first stanza of the song describes the singer's lack of clarity about their own mental state. They are uncertain whether their madness is real or a pretense. They describe themselves as a "wizened necromancer" who is "labouring at his pleasure" and performing a liturgy consumed by ashes. This imagery suggests that the singer is engaged in a futile and pointless activity, like a magician trying to bring back the dead.


In the next stanzas, the lyrics describe the singer's longing for a more meaningful existence. They yearn for the white coats, auditoriums, and blackboard dust of academia, and the spiraling walkways, webs of concrete, bricks, and mirrored glass that represent a more exciting and vibrant world. The singer also wonders if their past experiences of love, passion, despair, and hate were real or merely socially induced behavior. They compare these experiences to "long-forgotten twisted poetry gleaned from mouldy parchment."


Overall, the lyrics of "I No Longer Know If I Am Mad" explore the themes of identity, madness, and existential crisis. They suggest that the modern world is an empty place, where people struggle to find a meaningful existence, and are trapped in a world of socially induced behavior and mental patterns.


Line by Line Meaning

I no longer know if I am mad
I am unsure if I have lost my sanity


Or if I'm feigning it to cover my own mediocrity
Perhaps I am pretending to be crazy to hide my ordinary nature


I sometimes feel like a fell wizened necromancer
I sometimes feel like an old, wise wizard who deals with the dead


Labouring at his pleasure
I do what I do because I enjoy it


Performing his liturgy as one long consumed by ashes
Performing my rituals as if I have already died and turned to ashes


Factory fumes nourishing the dreams of the cosmopolite
The city's pollution fuels the desires of the cultured people


Affectionate longing for white coats, auditoriums and blackboard dust
Longing for the laboratory, the lecture halls, and the chalk dust


Spiraling walkways, webs of concrete, bricks and mirrored glass
The confusing architecture of the city with its concrete, brick, and glass


I no longer know if I have experienced passion/love/despair/hate
I am uncertain if I have felt any strong emotions


Was it only socially induced behaviour?
Did I only act this way because society expected it?


Like long forgotten twisted poetry
Like old, dark, and twisted poetry that has been forgotten


Gleaned from mouldy parchment
Found on old and decaying paper


Pain is always more real than bliss
Suffering is more authentic than joyfulness


It's in greater supply
It is more abundant


It's the warm familiar womb in which your mind can hide
It is the familiar and comforting place where your mind can seek refuge


As your open doors and portals
As you reveal yourself to new experiences


Walk the paved paths to offerings
Navigate the predetermined paths in search of success


Foiled predetermined neurological patterns
Blocked by pre-programmed nerve patterns


Like paper boats bound for the drains
Like disposable paper boats heading towards their ruin


You speak the incantations written on grey mortal walls
You recite the words written on the dark walls of the mundane world


Syllables tasting like blood in your mouth
Words that feel painful and evoke a metallic taste in your mouth


You know absolution
You understand forgiveness and release from guilt


You know mortality
You understand the inevitability of death


Reality slowly peeled layer by layer
The truth is gradually revealing itself


Outwards to the fringe where upon the altar of forgotten deities
Towards the outer edges where abandoned gods are worshipped


The combustion of the self still vibrates
The destruction of the self still resonates


Dark flowers thrusting their thorns up
Malevolent plants sprouting their sharp thorns


Reaching where manifestations of the skies labour to fill the vacuum
Reaching towards the realm where the gods attempt to maintain order


You seek to explain the universe with numbers
You try to decipher the world with mathematics


Itch to fill in the final answer underlined twice
Eager to provide the solution that has already been hinted at


Like an infant you step into the first light at dawn
Like a newborn, you step out into the first light of the day


It's bright and bitter and sharp
It is harsh and piercing but still illuminates the surroundings




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS

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