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1. |
TTX
05:26
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TTX
The doctor said it’s gonna be ok,
And my vision’s clearing, though the memory’s still faint,
But whatever exceeds the mundane panoply
Must take its time to come back again.
Now I still can’t say what led to the occasion
- Interstellar constellation? –
Yet the mystery embarked and that was that..
Thought I’ve read the tales and seen the movies all
Where obscurity thrives for our sweet delight,
But to find myself within the graveyard wall
With the sun long gone in the middle of the night,
With my feet steady moving and my conscious besoothing
That everything was right,
Was an occurrence I didn’t much oblige.
Caught in a bad moment when you realize
That it’s all of your moments that you despise…
It took me to a burial ground
Where cloves and myrtles seamed the stone.
I wiped the dust and read the name aloud,
But the engraved letters spelled my own.
I cried: 'Desecration of the living soul!'
When thunder struck and burst the earth,
And I was bound in awe as I saw flesh and bone emerge.
Campanas chimed with the assemblage
Of this ghastly ghostly silhouette,
Yet I stood my ground till hush heralded
The setup of the walking dead.
Had neither winked nor lit my lips with prayer,
- 'Think of batman, face the slayer' –
When I felt the solemn sadness that it bred.
Thoughts had ripened, new invention:
Draw a breath, say the word.
But its raised hand called off my intention
Before my iambus could be heard.
Then beams of twilight sear’d the air
- Emerald and caramel -
And some lucent orb disbanded from its hull.
I knew it was my soul.
I wish I was trained in epiphanology
It’d help me disunite life and mythology…
'Do you remember?' spoke the orb to me,
Floating in mid-air o’er the bare-boned chest;
'Do you remember' - how could I forget -
'That fatal day with the TTX?
Man, you ain’t no fool of nature,
Choice is what defines your way,
But foolish is your choosing I daresay.'
Thoughts beyond the reaches of my soul
Things beyond the breaches of control
Boundless dreams and unbound nightmares,
Endless joy, infinite despair,
Thin is the line, thinner the bearer
With every barrier.
Do you not miss me?' spoke my soul to me
And instantly I felt the gap it had left.
'Do you not miss me?' spoke my soul to me
And fiercely my void filled with regret.
'O my god, you’re all alone,
And lately all your wit has gone,
Your mojo’s drown’d in t’bitter drop
That’s left of cornucopia’s cup!
The side-effects of slide-effects:
Autocannibalism. Your belt's too wide
It can barely hold the barren cerement
That you wear tonight.
Are your shoes too big, your feet too small,
A mind too tight to withdraw?
If end up with nothing, it’s nothing at all.'
Then I felt me fall, forever fall.
When moral hits its common with the axe.
And, what the hell is TTX?
I hit the ground, the bells tolled on,
See: Punctuality is one of the pillars.
My ears faded, my sight was gone
And thus ended the spine-chiller.
There’s many twilights to be, and some are fake,
There’s many hours to steal from the dead man awake,
But if you’re going, you might not come back.
Canonized, forever living dead.
Your sepulchre lies up ahead.
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2. |
Submerge & Abide
04:50
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3. |
Scarecrows
04:32
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Scarecrows
The fallow field in autumn's off,
A pasture o' play for the scarecrows.
The peasant was pure, with a heart of love,
Freedom 's what he bestowed.
The crop was reaped, the job was done,
The birds were all shooed away;
With autumn's beauty almost gone
The peasant plead 'em to stay
In the tree by the brook is a songbird who sings,
But he's made of straw and his melodies' designed;
When wind - Beaufort two - wails under his wings,
Auroral high frequencies control your mind.
T'was Scarecrow's design, and he spoke to the peasant:
'You insolent fool, now it's my time to reap!
But as you may figure it's not gonna be pleasant:
The birds are my army and I claim your seat!'
'You're just a pawn on the playground of life,
And your steps' got you trapped as I roll the dice!
Now you're my pawn on my playground of life
So meet the Scarecrow Mind Controlling Device!"
The black and green peasant was sadder than me,
He stood on the field for the birds to feast.
Delicious, his eyes, for a soft birdy beak,
As he suffered the curse of the beasts.
The winter was harsh but the wind felt pity,
He lowered his voice below Beaufort two
And whispered: 'My friend, I know it's quite shitty,
But I promise: your pain is now through...'
'You're just a pawn on the playground of sorrow,
And your steps' got you trapped as you trusted a Scarecrow.
Now you're still a pawn on the playground of might
But at last you are free - so get out of sight.'
Mr. Scarecrow revealed his cloak of knavery.
He sat in the shack on the peasant's chair;
Said: 'This is my Reich that I built out of slavery,
So fear my dominion in Scarecrow lair!'
But meek Mrs. Scarecrow, that we all shall admire,
She spoke to him 'My dear, I'm sorry!'
She grabbed a torch, set the palace on fire.
She was pregnant - not only with worry...
'You're just a pawn on the playground of hate
And the world for my child is not the one you make!
We burn in our mistakes.'
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4. |
Eris
06:26
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Eris
I was raised in beliefs, embraced standing water,
Bred reptiles in mind, t'was mossy and plane,
My subjection was firm, my soul was empty,
But I brayed my beliefs in a mortar with grain
And I baked the bread that evokes the hunger,
The one that on earth cannot be allayed,
And I dined in my head and I saw in my heart:
Sorrows bring forth - but joys impregnate.
O the wisdom of youth is a treacherous gift,
Is a brook whilst the thaw, thundrous and mighty,
A fiery comet in lucidest gleam,
But burning as fast as brightly.
And so I, starry king, could not hinder my slump
Into the abyss of the fatal truth,
And darkness was blinding, my body was numb,
And shattered my wisdoms of youth...
The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life,
The higher you climb the closer you get to the goddess of strife.
The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life,
No mourning can save you from yourself.
Life is a joke when it's hardest to laugh,
Life is a gift you would never have asked,
Life is a riddle, death just a guess,
So easy acquired, yet so hard to pass.
But there's nothing beyond, no food for the hunger,
The cistern is dry and the altar is hollow,
No comfort on earth and no comfort in heaven,
There's no light in the tunnel to follow.
The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life,
The higher you climb the closer you get to the goddess of strife.
The tree of knowledge is not the tree of life,
So make an ape out of yourself and survive.
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5. |
Lethe
05:13
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Lethe
Silence is required, Mr. Death sleeps by my side
I’m not sure about my actions, I don’t know about last night,
Normally I’m not the kind of guy to take him home,
I wonder, will he stay for breakfast - I'd rather be alone...
O yesterday could’ve - neatly played - put things to a good start,
The night was clear, the stars were high, as was my need for love,
The full moon cleansed the darkened path of mist and fear and fright,
My zoot was tight, my shoes shone bright as I walked into the night.
But as always things did differ from my mortal expectation,
That's so strictly bound in borders of profanity,
But they were subject to severe misinformation,
As I had an encounter with epiphany.
He stood beneath a willow, with a black suit and a scythe
That leaned against the tree trunk, yet he was weeping like a child.
I said: ‘Why are you crying? Is there something I can do?’
But he replied ‘My son, there’s nothing, I do weep for you.
For the greater might of chance has put you upmost on my scroll,
So no mattering to flattering, straight the edge and rock’n’roll.
But in utter recognition of you asking for my pain,
You may sense the scent of life for this one night again.’
O yesterday, where is your sting? Tomorrow, thine sweet balm?
The ever-dawning prospect when another has gone wrong?
But dignity and countenance - I learned it from a picture -
Are assets, quintessential to the metaphysic fixture.
So I hooked onto his look, raised an eyebrow and then said:
‘You dare come up to my threshold, but you dare not go ahead?
Diagnosis: You’re haphazard, you’re sadistic but alone,
So let me introduce you to the civilized art of oblivion.’
So I went for a drink with the Reaper
And after a couple more he was not so grim - anymore
Yes I went for a drink with the reaper
And now he’s sleeping by my side, my ass is sore.
Lethe, you’re the dead man’s drink
Veil us into rapturous shade
Occlude the sickening sun of things
And cloud the mind that can’t be saved
Lethe, you’re the lucent trail
You’re the fog and you’re eclipse
Descend upon our shadow realm
And cast oblivion in our midst
Lethe you’re the remedy
You’re the rain to wash us dry
And the blissful storm that blows
Our deeds off in the night
You’re the heavens’ fronds and vines
You’re the blessing and the bane
But Lethe, you are fortune’s bride,
Reluctant to remain.
- On with the game.
So I was in bed with the Reaper,
But picture my relief: he was not gonna reap - anymore
So I was in bed with the Reaper,
And now it’s tango in my head, my ass is sore.
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6. |
Portrait
04:43
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Portrait
I bought a glacier, recently,
Though my investment-guy said it’s not a good idea.
But I liked its grey sight and the taste of the ice
And when they wouldn’t sell I had the panacea:
So with the mountain plus the sky above
I got some new friends, many smiles and a laugh,
But no one knew, what I was thinking of…
I bought some jungle, recently,
I like rain and forest, so I thought I’d have a go.
My accountant had a stroke, couldn’t come with me,
But I found just what I was looking for:
A nice sunny spot with animals and stuff,
Trees around and rainclouds above,
And as I tipped ‘em, I was thinking of…
What role have I to play
When all my glacier’s melt away?
What of all my song will sound
When all the rain has fallen down?
See, all these probabilities
Make my mind not rest at ease,
How could I just buy me out of this?
I was at an auction, recently,
Bid at the sea, was the only to care.
‘Too wet’ said one, ‘too much salt’ the other,
‘Too dark’ the third, who was widely scared:
But it’s so sweet when dusk sets in
And the sun dips softly into the ocean’s skin,
I even raised my bid, though there was no one in…
Weighed myself in gold, recently,
Got some reward for the balance of a beam.
‘Equilibrium’, that’s what it’s called,
I bought a million balloons and the air within:
Think of things to come, got a plan to achieve,
And the yes-men nodded, the accountant bared his teeth,
But to fulfill, one must first believe…
Reflections burn inside of me
Of things that are and must not be.
And vaguely is written in the sky:
‘The future’s fragile’ - so am I.
And in the end, when all is sold,
What’s left to weigh my soul?
Can’t I just buy a way to keep control?
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7. |
Magma
01:41
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8. |
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Serpents & Elemts Pay Dirt
Are you going to find yourself?
Why don't you seek out the desert?
There lies a counter of lost & found
'Serpents & Elements Pay Dirt':
24-7-365
Quality selfs at a very low price
24-7-365
Just follow the footprints in sand to survive.
Are you searching for inner peace?
Why don't you seek out the desert?
Broilingly sighs a halcyon breeze
'round 'Serpents & Elements Pay Dirt'
24-7-365
Quality peace at very low price
24-7-365
Just follow the footprints in sand to survive.
Something lies dormant within you?
Wisdoms, you'd wished 'em to know?
Awaken the spirits, discover the truths,
But keep your expenses low
Are you seeking the meaning of life?
Why don't you go to the desert?
Check out this counter of lost & found,
It's 'Serpents & Elements Pay Dirt'
24-7-365
Quality meanings at very low price
24-7-365
Just follow the footprints in sand to survive
24-7-365
Setting the standard for meaning of life
24-7-365
'Serpents & Elements', goodbye, and survive.
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9. |
World Of Pain
03:25
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World of Pain
If my father was a Titan
it’s a shame I never met him,
If my ancestors were gods
then I was set out in the woods.
If I was the heir of Caesar
then my life is but a teaser,
And if great things were to come,
something’s gone wrong.
I was promised all the trasures,
I was to be weigh’t in gold;
my mama said I’m something special,
I must have a story to be told.
I was meant to be the center
of the entire universe;
I was meant to be
worth.
You migh say: ‘History’s a story of a twilight-glory,
where the actors might be ancient, but the author is today.’
But neither’s me.
I just see people that are younger,
do the things I might have done;
I just see people that are higher,
go the ways I might have gone;
I just see people that are stronger,
solve the problems I might’ve had;
I just see people that are faster,
outrun the things that I dread.
I see others hold my veneration,
others hold the master key,
Other people smiling from the
screens and pages down at me;
Other people crowned by masses
in moronic ecstasy;
It’s other people liked,
not me.
You might say: ‘Everyone is special and is gifted anywhere!’
But when god gave all his children equal talents -
I wasn’t there.
Now, can you draw the circle
or are you still drawing the line?
Cause when I wake up febrile from my sleep,
is it from your dreams - or mine?
And if the world hung by a silky thread,
would I dare to cut the cable?
And are my scissors sharp enough
to cut fact from fable?
You might say: ‘Hope’s the final thing to die, just confide and relax!’
But hope will be my hangman, and confidence -
will be its axe.
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10. |
Father Frost
03:57
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Father Frost
Tell me, how do the icicles grow
And who plants cold flowers on the screens?
Tell me, who paints grey over all
And powders with white all of my greens?
What anal zealot makes each year totter,
Who wields the wand to change the phase of water?
Tell me, who brings the ice and snow
And how is he so?
Tales are told, about a weirdbeard,
Myth's unfold, legends rise,
That in 5-star Fourth Season vault
This persona mostly resides.
Where he spends his time with his PS3
And rumours say he's on cocain and speed,
That no slumber may cumber, and no sleep may creep
Upon his vile mind, where his plans concrete…
He's playing Mortal Kombat, but with every break he takes,
He stretches out his ears for sound;
And every fall, when the leaves are at stake,
He listens when they hit the ground.
Then he rides out on his North Wind-wagon,
Then he flies away, with his 'Boreas'-flag on,
With a license plate number K L double-6, please,
If you see him in the sky report your local police!
For he's a snow-flake terrorist - out of control,
An ice-cold anarchist - coming for you all,
So if you don’t react now and enact total war,
This could be the end of all that you are standing for!
But pray listen, more dangers loom
In these horrid times we’re condemned to exist.
Dreadful creatures are lurking in the gloom,
But the vilest dwells within our midst:
Feeding on money, manpower and might,
It is outright voracious and yet utterly void
And I find it hard to believe that this abomination
Was once human: it’s now a corporate mutation.
It’s Chairman!
In his dimension there’s not mete nor bound -
His claim for redemption remains unsung & unsound.
An there is no escape,
Because he has got a cape!
It made the headline, it will make your deadline,
And with pitch-black ink it will draw your flatline,
And as fear beats you and your life disseats you,
Deceit defeats you...
But there is Nothing you must fear,
Nothing to be afraid of.
I hear it penetrates the skull
And nests inside:
The perilous endoparasite
Virulently invades the cerebrum
And severs the synapses, one by one,
Thus disintegrating the being.
Beware, beware,
There’s Nothing everywhere!
It oozes out of your screens
And fills the Aether...
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11. |
Stowaway
03:45
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Stowaway
Living in a concrete cube’s stupor-measured squares,
Anchored in an earthen crust that’s got no earth to spare,
It’s the futility of unctuous words that keeps the world in turn,
The utility of our trifle trust that keeps us where we were.
In the Spectacular Vernacular Behavioral Theater
Spectacular! Molecular!
Electrochemical entertainment for me – and you.
Floating in a spinning top, starside and return,
Flying on a giant rock both cradle and urn,
I am really just a stowaway but let me stay another turn,
As long as there is coal and mind to burn in the machine
Of the Spectacular Molecular Behavioral Theater
Spectacular!
Interstellar!
Electrochemical entertainment for me – and you.
Dwelling in the biosphere of eternity and nothingness,
Embrace the things and do caress the blossom they unfold,
For there’s no fiddling in the script and time alone does hold the pen
And sweeps it firm from page to page as they go flying with the wind.
And when we’re all extinct some day some alien archeologist may
Dig us up and reconstruct and stuff us and then wonder,
And erect us sullen statuettes as ghost-train figureheads
In a funfair of pillage and blunder.
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Alternate Audio Austria
Independent label for quality wayward underground music. Based in Austria.
www.alternateaudio.net
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