1. |
Doomed
01:41
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2. |
Gallows
05:41
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There is the hangman
I was condemned
No future in sight
No joy for vain life
What is the purpose
To believe in something
If everything ends
All of a sudden
All the roads lead here
No escape from fate
Sentenced to a dormant state
Nonexistent
Morbid soul
I was dormant
No dreams at all
I’ve realized I was already dead
I had accepted fate
This is it
Resignate
Glad is the man
Who believes in nothing
He wanders through time
He carries no burden
Glad is the man
Who believes in nothing
He wanders through time
He carries no burden
What is the purpose
To believe in something
If everything ends
All of a sudden
I was dormant
No dreams at all
I’ve realized I was already dead
I had accepted fate
This is it
This is it
Resignate
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3. |
Resignation
06:05
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Lethargic and rotting
He’s dying alone
No moon, no sun
No earth below
Lethargic and rotting
Haunted existence
Half man, half thing
Becoming only the thing
Forgotten by self
The blaze went out
No rivers, no mountains
No sky above
Forgotten by self
His wills have faded
Like a rock coming down the mountain
He’s not master of his fortune
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4. |
Hole
05:39
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I cut the rope and near the end I roused
I refuse the mediocrity
I want the sun, the moon and the cosmos
Served in a tray made of gold
Master sun speak to me
Am I the only one?
Running in circles
Chasing the rabbit
Towards this hole in the soil
Running in circles
Chasing the rabbit
Towards this hole in the soil
Still so many doubts
I keep searching but I canʼt find myself
Should man live like this?
At least Iʼm free or at least I think I am
Master sun speak to me
Am I the only one?
Running in circles
Chasing the rabbit
Towards this hole in the soil
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5. |
Why Do I Desire
04:14
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Why do I desire
What I do not need?
Why does my soul, like fire,
Or a hot abstract greed,
Seek all that is higher?
Why, if not because
It is a soul?
Who can know the cause
When it lies in its whole
Hidden in laws?
Yet this matters not.
What matters is pining
And that stress of thought
That comes of divining
What to wish that may not be got.
(poem by Fernando Pessoa)
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