1. |
Lete
03:51
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Turn off the light
Ghosts revealed to my eyes
Separate what’s dead and what’s not
Take the broken pieces
Imagine what must breathe then fix it
Put yourself in the skin that others worn before you and wasted
Backpacks following tracks
Emptiness shared but gathered in only one hand
At the time we need to build our faith
Ideal visions fade after the death’s sentence
Each one builds his own wreck
And memories are now swept by winter winds
My own tastes set unreachable norms to follow
My own fears kill any possibility of acceptance
My own dreams reflect what must be done to survive
Running after is the goal
To feel is the key
My skin is a breakable shape
My soul is a concrete bound
My memories are flying pieces of death
Maybe hasty judgments make me blind
But what can I do when I see that interest is only found in a torn vision where time disappears?
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2. |
Averno
03:09
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I’m riding an old blind horse
Both looking for a deaf white god
Storms and suns remind us how useless the end reward is
People I’ve known have learned how to accept the distance made
Deeply found for most of them
Beyond the horizon for a few
I’m hearing the call
Spitting my tongue
Watching the mud flood
Reveal what has been buried for years
Stamp the light source
Throw what survived to snakes and dogs
Forgive the absence
Reproach blind acceptance
Let die weakness and ignorance
Turn away from the flood
Hours I’ve lost wondering how to play the game of eternal energy
Hours spent wondering why lines remain when the mirror is broken
Fractured into infinite pieces
Divided into millions of destinies
Millions of pieces telling the same story
Millions of diseases telling the same suffering
How can I focus on what is remaining?
How can I focus on what is perverted?
How can I focus on what is existing?
How can I focus on what is existing when the light offers the synthesis of everything that must die but is always restored?
How can I focus on?
How can I focus on what is remaining?
How can I focus on what is perverted?
How can I focus on what is existing?
How can I focus on what is existing when my reflect becomes unblinking
My shattered nails will become the light and the emptiness
How can I focus on what is existing, perverted, remaining?
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3. |
Eumenidi
02:44
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Please try to make it short as we are walking out of the road
Turn the lever on once only and move beyond the next step
What we’ve always left undone when confidence is definitely gone
I can not make it as short as my reflections
I can’t make it short when the rituals evolve
Water, transformation
I stand on the threshold of a new contemplation
Reflections made through the others
Lack of interest brought by conquerors
Repeated behaviors breaking my soles
Heads will ache when the judgment night is coloring the sky brown
When the wheat fields wait for blood falls to let the poison spread
Let what’s written fade
Blow strong enough and all leaves fly
Let what’s written be forgotten
When the decisions become unclear
Let what’s dead feed unless you feel, unless you think that the storm has gone
Although concentration has failed from time to time and year after year
I hear positive enemies walking to my neighbor’s door
My home now returning to dust
Storms affect stones
If I try to deny it I’ll accept it as a gift as always
Cut your foot off and break your arms in the climb of the highest mount
My deaf ears bleed unless I think, unless I feel
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4. |
Anchise
04:28
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Under the oldest bridge we used to skim the water
To dive and drink after cries
Along the ridge we used to clean the dirt they spit on our bodies
They came to sink one by one
Accept, possibly like a grail
Reject, possibly like a fate
Erase pain every time you have to fail
Contemplate new legacies each time you succeed
Take the pen
Take the paper and throw the rubber
One line for each year
One line for each wrinkle
For missing stares and voices
A lot of water has passed under my own bridge
Rocks falling from the ridge
Rocks falling from the bridge
Boats come to sink as I watch you getting old
From wood to concrete
From stone to gold
Understand and control closest fears to accept these moments as gifts
Ask the grave
Dig, kick the ground to build your final lair
Sad is the melody of a song for a friend
My body hardly split
When it hears a mother saying “don’t be afraid”
When it hears a father saying “fight like a man”
A brother bringing home basis of the frame
People in row
Gathered by an unwavering faith that I make yours
I make yours my faith
You make mine your everyday fears and I throw my old nightmares away
We swap our lies, we swap our faults
I gave the light when you gave the rot
All things considered, how should we feel in return?
Preparing ourselves to postpone the moment when our mothers sleep and our fathers fall
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