1. |
Hidden Symbolism
04:26
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Whose opinions differ is a fool.
Telling it, yelling it, screaming, shouting, everything is cruel.
It's the one thing that you missed, now it's haunting you.
Stretching far the outer layer, lies in lairs, watching,
waiting for you, know it's coming.
You won't stop the bricks, clock ticks out, you run inside, terrified.
Stolen, hiding from the event horizon. No use in trying.
And you crawl in fear that the worst is near,
yet you wanna know. You won't take no placebo.
Never should've asked. If I knew I'd pass.
All the things to forget, every moment, every step.
There's no going back,
no going back down the track.
Do yourself a favour,
make a wish and cut the cord.
It all seems natural,
the way it comes is pitiful.
I never thought of it.
Drag, drag, listen up,
it's on my mind a lot.
When I see, when I sense,
it kicks me, it's immense.
I know, I know I asked,
it's not a test,
I thought you're something more.
I thought you're something more than me.
But you are only just like me.
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2. |
The Forces
04:50
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Steady and patient,
flowing like the river,
we were drifting.
Awoke amidst of
the coldest days of autumn,
falling leaves.
The forces behind us orchestrate.
The forces, they bind us,
construct our fates.
Decay fortifies us.
Precise, always like clockwork.
Our wings are almost mended now.
You knew what I was about to do.
You know me better.
I am Enkidu.
Distance leaves me spanning to despair.
A second away, yet you let me.
Let me bear it all.
You see through the conniptions.
You remind me of prescriptions.
All I see are distant lights in
towns and cities that are fighting
over non-existent immunities.
The forces behind us, they orchestrate.
The forces, they bind us, construct our fates.
Decay fortifies us, filling out the strays.
Precise, always like clockwork in the tower.
Our wings are almost mended
now that we know how it goes.
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3. |
Forty Three
05:23
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Green, white, red, a coat of arms.
As many said, low-born collide with pure-bred.
The two love birds on their quest to clasp the city south by
west, by north, by south, by east, my knees are weak.
Economy of death reeks of bloody breath.
Narcotics to fuel the dreams. Premonitions of light beams.
Seeing, not knowing. Being controlling.
Signs on the walls. Slowly it crawls.
The forty three for the whole world to see.
Cast into dust. Missing suddenly.
Thousands before and more to be.
Unending slavery to bring unity.
No responses from the saints,
too busy not making claims.
Liberty of expression
will make you a connection.
Steel plates in their heads.
Raining oil, soaking wet.
Blazing surface as they set.
Thoughts are leaving for their beds.
And I see wisdom in foolishness.
I plead guilty to indifferences.
To know and stand unconditionally.
To be a part of the forty three.
Standing so close to me.
But I can barely see through the Coventry.
As thousands before and more to follow
fight for the freedom against a grave too shallow.
By west, by north, by south, by east.
Overlook the cities from afar.
See the people from afar.
By west, by south, by north,
my knees are weak.
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4. |
Hotel Room
05:38
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We took the keys and let the visions bloom.
We made it ours, our little hotel room.
Heavy door and golden handles.
Picture frames and bright-eyed candles.
Why did it seem so distant?
When we could've had anything in an instant?
Slow roll, overgrown.
You hit the note and you know
I can't resist the eyes on you.
Tell me more,
tell me.
How'd you like
to sail the oceans blue?
Tell me more,
tell me.
How'd you like
to set the oceans' moon?
The phantoms reappear
on the other side,
as we adhere.
All of our platonic fears are gone.
Successors to our dreams,
doubts and minefields.
Undisturbed forever it seems.
Distorted perspective,
commencing reflective criticism
of your worn-out stance.
Hiding in the details, so cosy.
You warm up, and let them out.
All the words of wisdom, Pandora's box.
And what for, Epimetheus?
You decide your future,
it's in the palm of your hand.
So describe it clearly,
tell me.
Tell me more,
tell me.
How'd you like
to sail the oceans blue?
Just cave in, and save me
from all the grief's monsoon.
We are a part of this anthropogenesis.
Hear my voice now.
A single entity,
wrapped in a sea.
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5. |
Speculation
03:50
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Don't blink, unrelenting speculations circulating.
A single image reappearing,
and it's not looking like it is soon to leave.
All the more I
started advancing towards imminent self-destruction.
After I feel creeping it up, crawling it up my
spine, and my stomach is in a vortex of delusion.
All it takes is no more than a second
to trigger response.
I plunge into a state of misery,
forgone dilemmas, attempts at plain prosperity.
Caught in a trap I built for you,
created a gap for me to fall through.
You know what I'm thinking?
I think I can't choose because you are holding me back.
Now I'm on the crossroads,
this time I know which way's the wrong one.
The issue is that the two in front are rotten
and I'm not really feeling like losing two years.
It just follows, it never quits
until you cut it off.
But never is time,
the right moment for it doesn't just appear.
It is there and we cannot grasp it.
And you wait, and then it's gone for a while.
Until it improves and makes a comeback.
Then all you can do is regret.
I plunge into a state of misery,
calling off the questions.
Forgone dilemmas, attempts at plain prosperity.
Caught in a trap I built for you,
it's just me, waiting to contribute.
And it is I.
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6. |
The Curtain
06:02
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I wanna know what goes on
when the curtains are pulled.
I hope it's what I think,
I hope I know what's below.
We are created, destinated, all the same.
Who would have said
that I deserve
all the credit that you give.
We both know we know nothing,
we are both yet unexposed.
Juliet, where are you now?
Is the meaning so lost?
Are you the proclaimed holy light?
During the nights
fighting all sorts of fights,
pushing away from the sights,
using a fair-trade disguise.
All the details of all yourself, everything
you never wanted to reveal.
I was wrong to think it's real.
Now you're on it again.
I thought I saw a shooting star.
The more I know, the less you are.
You try to stay on track,
but under pressure you tend to crack.
I'm seeing double.
Tiptoeing around the topics of
the future, past and present.
All important things
are never to be found.
You'll never find them.
You tell and sell forgotten dreams
to the people with no means.
It is almost like I see myself.
I'm a stunt double.
Disillusioned Jötunheim,
so many faces you hide behind.
But you won't fool the thunderstorms.
During the nights
fighting all sorts of fights,
pushing away from the sights,
using a fair-trade disguise.
All the details of all yourself, everything
you never wanted to reveal.
I was wrong to think it's real.
Now you're on it again.
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7. |
Afternooner
04:08
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Downtown struggle, former troublemakers on the loose.
Underwhelming, out of focus, we cannot choose.
Cleaning after golden boys.
The hardest part is to begin.
The thieves are out again.
Noticing a trend.
Finding a clue.
To help us cut through.
Clothes off.
Burglar in the afternoon.
Torturing self for a tune.
Reading up on the news.
They kill.
Getting lost in own abuse.
Realize your own demise.
Finding a clue to help us fall through.
Having a deja-vu.
You've heard this too.
Being this much obsessed
makes it feel so processed.
You are so processed.
Clearly I am mesmerized,
why are you so much surprised?
If you would know the lines,
you wouldn't have to.
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8. |
Stooges
07:22
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All your past insignificances that lead up to now
are the sources of corrupted lateral thinking
and I try to hide them away
from all the deliberate
thieving of happiness I construct in myself.
On and on.
Because we're stooges
of the cruellest of them all.
As we project our fear on the canvas of fears.
Stooges,
blessed fools test
all the strengths of
the strongest knots
just to safe-way their hope.
Sturdy foundations,
I found it interesting
that our views polarized
in three hundred sixty five days
since your eyes glazed
as they met mine.
Long gone are those doubts and sad presages.
Every book's chapters have passages
the readers would rather skip
and never find out.
But who are they to think
that only they're right,
nobody stumbles and everyone might
just about be perfect the way they are.
All of our thoughts.
Because we're stooges
of the cruellest of them all.
As we project our fears
on the canvas of fears.
Oh we're stooges,
blessed fools test
all the strengths of
the strongest knots
just to safe-way their hope.
All of our thoughts.
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