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TCL is a studio project, came to light on the autumn 2014 turning point, aroused by the hunger for the music that is different from what we’ve got used to in our original bands. The sound of “Corona” is inspired by “atmospherity”, moods, emotions, protracted booming, dense tones and omnipresent grim. Lyrics at its first reading can evoke excessive apocalyptic tinge, tend to have a cathartic dimension and in a nutshell deal with existential aspects, with an emphasis on the lyrical integrity.

The recording took place in November 2014 with the help of Seabeast Production. The name of this two-track EP simply copies the launch year - 2015, "MMXV", nothing more, nothing less.


released March 4, 2015

Igor Krakhmalev
Daniela "Dahlien" Neumanová
Dima Borovkov
Šimon Hajdovský



all rights reserved


The Corona Lantern Prague, Czech Republic

Igor Krakhmalev /Diligence, Demimonde/ - Guitars
Daniela "Dahlien" Neumanová /Diligence, Keep On Rotting/ - Vocals
Dima Borovkov /Ex-Sepsis/ - Bass
Šimon Hajdovský /Sinuhet, Monna, Akline, .../ - drums
Tonda Smrčka /Rise of Surya/ - guitars
... more

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Track Name: Thick Lava in My Mouth
Thick lava

Scent of substance far from decent
Eyes learning to resent
Mind being the obstruction
Within fatal reconstruction
Chasing pain to negative space
Scorching saffron to face

So I have been waiting
And shifting the subsoil
Of my subconsciousness
I‘ve been waiting
To burn the furthest turmoil
Waiting for lava and jaws to undress

Jaws to undress
Jaws to undress

Throughout its massive vent
Through the nostrils
On my way down from the peek
Kissing sulphate on the cheek

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Thick lava in my mouth
Tasting the esophagus
Melting it all the way down
Taste buds they are
Slowly drowning now
In thick lava
Essential erasure
To allow

More and more
Erasure to allow

So I've been waiting
To burn the furthest turmoil
Waiting for holy lava
Nothing less
Track Name: An Embrace Discolored
Drain the color from this cold
Oppressive embrace
With force fierce enough
To fill this endless space

With this token of heaviness
With these sore lungs

This weird steadiness
Is just a distant reminder
Of rusted happiness


We talk, we touch
An imprint in my viability
We talk, we touch
An ammunition to vulnerability

There’s no
No sink or swim
There’s no sink or swim

Hardly could I further go
Distance that is absolute
Hardly could I ever know
This distance so absolute

Drain the color from this cold
Oppressive embrace
With force fierce enough
That filled this endless space

There’s no
There’s no
Sink or swim
Just never ending drift
Across this trench

Drift across this trench /x/