1. |
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2. |
Circle of the Angels
07:05
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Sometimes I stop, I stop to wonder
who'll die before, whether the wind or the sun,
the sea or the rain, the fire or God...
My nerves under pressure.
I keep silence while a new zoo
begins to move once again
Absent-minded, incoherent
Loose and ignorant, as is its custom
Perhaps nobody has noticed me
but one day more is so hard to bear and
in the dark they still can perceive all,
they might report everything they saw.
Perhaps nobody has noticed me
but one day more is so hard to bear
and in the dark they still can perceive all,
they might report everything they saw.
But their lips shall stop and their spit keeps on shining
along with the stars.
Streets now empty have lost their breath
Memories are far-off
And the few folks remained don't mind about that
As if a cloud would haze the whole horizon
Another dream, silently...
It's only another dream
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3. |
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Last night some little eyes
showed me a way.
As soon as we set off
I realized that I would have
finally made myself
acquainted with their secrets
buried in time.
WHEN NIGHT FALLS, NEW FUNNY SHAPES
ARE JUMPING OUT. MANY
LITTLE EYES LIKE FAINT
TONGUES OF FLAME ARE GETTING CLOSER
IN THE MAGIC OF THE NIGHT,
VOICES WHISPER NEW WORDS.
BY NOW, THEIR LANGUAGE
SEEMS TO BE LOST IN TIME, BUT I STILL
HAVE A HAZY MEMORY
OF THEIR OWN VOICE SOUND.
ONCE I SHYLY TRIED TO CATCH
THEIR FACES THROUGH MOON’S MELAN-
CHOLY BEAMS; THOSE LITTLE CREATURES
WHOM HAVE LOST
EVERYTHING THROUGHOUT TIME.
LAST NIGHT THEY SHOWED ME A WAY WHICH
A disarming scenery had been appearing now in front of my eyes
filling my heart with tears and nostalgia.
Since that night I know looking for the land of God
it makes no sense, by now.
I NEVER NOTICED BEFORE.
IT’S A PATH HIDDEN
AMONG THE TREES, PARALLEL
TO THE WAY I’M PASSING THROUGH EVERY
MORN. IT LOOKS NOBODY KNOWS
SUCH A ROAD. HENCE, AS SOON
AS WE SET OFF I REALIZED
THAT I WOULD HAVE FINALLY
MADE MYSELF ACQUAINTED WITH THEIR SECRETS BURIED IN TIME.
THE MORE I WERE GETTING FAR FROM THE THINGS I ALREADY KNEW,
THE MORE I WERE FEELING MY SENSES’ WARMTH REBORN
WHILE CONTAMINATION was CLEARLY DYING DOWN
And down there,
In this unreal town,
echoes of homesickness come back.
So now loneliness covers every face
with crying. But these lost heroes
are lying down on their memories
Sometime, sometime are chained
like only wonderful dreams can be.
In this last tale
echoes of homesickness come back
So now, now loneliness,
it covers every face.
But these lost sparks
Are lying down on their memories.
Sometimes are chained
like just wonderful dreams can be.
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4. |
Maxfield's Morning Home
01:08
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5. |
Antland
05:55
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Waves spit on my memories
flies lick remains like salt on a cliff
swallowing desolation’s wan stains
and skies without any prayin’
You have generated just this
eyes which float on cages and black tones
settlin’ on to paltry cus+
toms while humans go dancing.
NOW YOU’RE JUST THE KING
OF THE SILLY ONES…
CROWN SLIPS OUT OF YOUR HEAD AS IF IT WERE SNOW.
NOW YOU’RE JUST THE LORD
OF THE LOSERS AND
YOUR SCEPTRE GIVES IN WITHOUT A LAMENT.
Frenzied worker ants all lined up
bow in front of ghosts an’ gods
Heavily made-up Golems smiling
from rotating chariots.
But a shadow comes in
breaking through the wall of truth
while that fire is eating its flesh
passing through roads and veins/nerves.
SO YOU’RE JUST THE KING OF THE FOOLISH ONES…
CROWN SLIPS OUT OF YOUR HEAD AS IF (I)T WERE SNOW.
WELL YOU’RE JUST THE LORD OF THE WRETCHED AND
YOUR SCEPTRE GIVES IN WITHOUT A LAMENT.
WELL, YOU’RE JUST THE KING OF THE SILLY ONES…
CROWN SLEEP OUT OF YOUR HEAD AS IF IT WERE SNOW.
NOW YOU’RE JUST THE LORD OF THE FOOLISH ONES,
YOUR SCEPTRE GIVES IN WITHOUT A LAMENT.
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6. |
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7. |
Lucy Pharr's May
04:15
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10. |
Apollyon's Waiting Room
01:44
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11. |
Nuova York Anno 4
02:48
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17. |
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