Liner Notes:
In his collapse, Viglius sends out Appolodorus the peasant, to fetch a priest for his burial...

Appolodorus is astonished, but does what Viglius asked him : he goes off to the nearby village to get the old man a priest. But while he's walking, Appolodorus starts to think and ponder...

Could this be the end of their journey, at the very point where it was just beginning to get interesting ?

Such a banal and hackneyed ending : Viglius being buried by a priest, with a soothed mind, reassured that he 'did everything that could be done' and ultimately die with an artificial peace of mind ? Appolodorus decides this has to be avoided by all means.

By the time Appolodorus reaches the village, he has made up his mind : instead of asking the priest for a service, he'll put up with a nice scandal, thereby forcing the priest to definitely refuse the request made by Viglius and to condemn both men. Haunted and threatened, Viglius will surely revive in order to flee, with him, Applodorus. When he finally encounters an influential priest, Appolodorus starts his wicked blaspheme dance and lets his poultry shit upon the face of the stunned priest. The expected result occurs... the priest and the commoners of the village burst into rage, and furiously set out to lynch the blasphemic peasant and his weird companion, the old mystic, of whom they all had heard such strange rumours.

Appolodorus was pleased... now they have no choice left but to flee... but how ? By building a vessel, a ship or a spacecraft in order to set on and discover new shores, new, unexpected dimensions ? Why not ?

Lyrics:

Viglius

"Have I observed this recklessness well,
that the crippledly-minded did tell?
Ghastly abhorrent repel,
my acrid end was sure to tell!"

Farmer

"Why pledge to the sky,
that weeps upon thy pensive eye?
While thy fast decaying corpse,
is fed upon by worms !"

Viglius

"Rampant ! …In the murk of death!
Tyrant ! … Do I lurk its breath?
Warrant ! … Its awfulness !
Blatant ! … Excreements !"

"Now a choice is presented to thee,
die in their hands or walk with me!
I'll build with thee a vessel whereby
we'll from out this hexaemeron fly!"

"Rather than being burned by those swines,
for this ! An ever worse end, too indign!
When life manifests itself as concrete,
the raving abstract lunacy obsolete!"

"Again, a choice is presented to thee,
die in their hands or fly with me!"