When all I am is written in works
Painted in memories
And I can only be sheltered by the dark within
All I want is to get back home
But I am afraid of their words
This decision that I made
Granted me a fitting fate
Obscured by the past once unresolved
Heightens my chances to burn this world
Every night, every single one
I see her face
Every time, every single time
I see myself, encouraged to achiеve his dream
Why would someonе want to grieve for so long?
Why since January have I been fixing a puzzle
Once forgotten?
I almost jumped from a bridge, afraid of me, afraid of his words
Or maybe her thoughts...
When a family once shattered in the past
Sunken in misery hid from the light of my goals
I couldn't help myself, I ran away to achieve my dream
Deep below the sands of a distant past I could drown in my very own world
Time brings the change and I am aware of how actions in a frame work
(The past is the past, the future's unseen. The past was the future and the future, the present will be)
But I'm obsessed with my goals, obsessed with meaning. Afraid of repetition. Afraid of...
(Has it already been 3 months?)
I have seen the same fears in myself in this buried past
And I couldn't move my fingers in the same way again
I’m fucking obsessed with every single thing
I want to release my works by my way
Everything should make sense!
But no! This won't even matter for anyone, no more than for me. Maybe he was right "He's the fucking center of the world!"
It had to be... For sure it had to be. The truth! The truth behind my compositions and identity! But it isn't true. It only was. What have I been doing...
(This makes no fucking sense!)
I still think of her in moments like these... I thought I was done with her
The irony of searching the truth in a world built of lies
Sends me back to the darkest of pasts under lightnings of hatred
Take me out
I'm dying slowly
And it was my decision (I quit!)
I cannot really quit
"Vamos ahí! A reventar!
¡Pero bésala, hombre! ¡No te cortes, que la vida es sólo una!
Mi padre me asignó un trabajo
Y a mí me pareció bien
Explotación laboral, y no por tocar... No creo que vaya a aguantar a este paso
Si decido apostar por el rechinar de mis dientes
Capaz me muero de hambre, debajo de un puente"
"Cantad conmigo!"
You cannot make a living from music
(You cannot make a living from music)
You will rot under a sea of dust
(You will rot under a sea of dust)
Maybe you'll commit suicide
()
I can't keep the pace of my mind
The angel has fallen, his wings are withered
His creation taken by hands of mischief
I shall continue this task, driven by my grief
Lest I end up tarred and feathered
And here's the list of all the things that are wrong:
- the continuity between the albums is stupidly dumb
- I'm repeating myself with things I've already composed and said
- Am I making two songs about the same topic?
- Nobody will actually think about it. Nobody fucking listens to these songs anyway. But I don't care, that's not the main thing right?
- I was complaining about it like... 30 seconds ago? Maybe not thirty (I guess we could have counted exactly how many seconds passed before this exact line, but that's even more stupid)
- Why the hell are we doing this song
- Why the hell did I think of starting this project?
- What is the purpose of everything I'm doing
- This isn't funny anymore
- I should take drugs
- There's no solution at all, and with every spoken word, things get worse. But I don't think
- this is enough to jump over the next section of the song. Which is, by the way, about not giving a shit about how bad this [insertar minutos exactos] minutes hacee been and just doing the whole album. Well the album is made, right? I mean how could anyone listen to it if it's not published
- fuck you
- white ribbon sucks
- this album makes no fucking sense
- Ángel has told me to say all of this. The next one is... Wait, this as well is included. This is getting weird? I hate drone metal. Yes. I don't like drone metal at all
- getting back to the goal of this section: Ángel, please get back to singing
I mean, of course Rubén wouldn’t say any of that crap but
Warte hör mal kurz auf
Dude, what the fuck was that? By the way, he actually wrote some of the lines from the beginning
I think Lou was referring to the spoken word, actually
Hmmmm
This is getting more and more embarrassing
Yeah, we should stop this
Chacho ya está, cojones
Bueno, ahí va eso
Grant us eyes
Remove the cold
Embrace the tide
Feel the waves crashing at the shore
On the longest Summer we've ever lived a star shined across the sea of dust
So beautiful...
Shape after shape, deep inside your mind
You created the light of hope for those who were in pain
So hard to see...
No one will stop me this time!
I can't wait any longer to release all this ache from my chest
And I hate myself but after all, I only know how to do one thing
To use these hands able to create life from destruction
My creators won't stop me, not her. Not him! A cyclope in pain
Patterns so close to each other dance again
Am I searching for truth? Am I exposing the void?
Or maybe I'm only digging my tomb
So take me down, deep in the sands, and maybe someday I'll know better. Be reborn
I'm done for today. But there's always a new day
I'll do it anyway
I'll reach the never ending depths of misery
Look who's back. Yes, it's me!
The shovel-man!
So, where is my shovel?
