1. |
A fateful dream
04:35
|
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|
The king of my land; the king of my land
said to me in a dream, told me in a dream,
in a dream, in a fateful dream...
“The only true love; the only real love
is the love for death, is the love for death,
for death, for death, for death...!”
|
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2. |
Bill the commander
05:00
|
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|
Bill the commander,
the war has been so rough
fighting for the empire,
bleeding for the union jack,
killing for Victoria...
Bill the commander,
you used to be so tough,
but now you appear tired
you have a sad look in your eyes,
there’s something dark deep in your mind
But at least Hong Kong
seems to be today
your “home sweet home”,
your dearest place.
Here you have
sweet opium and cheap babes.
It’s 1861...
England’s so far away.
|
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3. |
||||
|
Me quedaré en el jardín donde el musgo crece,
esperaré sentado aquí.
No venidme a buscar, ni tampoco a molestar,
hace tiempo que desaparecí.
Me quedaré en el jardín mientras atardece,
me fundiré con la dulce tierra gris.
Ni los mapas os servirán, ni astrolabios ni brújulas,
hace tiempo que ya no estoy en ningún lugar terrenal;
hace tiempo que ya no estoy aquí.
Quiero salir de este jardín,
quiero salir de este jardín…
|
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4. |
The smoke seller man
03:17
|
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|
Where did your light go?
Where did your lunar song go?
Where are nowadays all the endless nights
and the old good times?
Where did your light go?
Paper-made man…
Before, you were skin and flesh.
Now you’re nothing but one more number
trapped in the machine,
lost under one million thunders.
Your howls within the drunkenness,
make me remind
everything that was left behind
and will never come back…
Your howls within the drunkenness!
Everything that was left behind...
|
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5. |
Foreigners in the sand
03:49
|
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6. |
Foundation
04:59
|
|||
|
The pillars of the evolution have fallen down.
The pillars of the evolution have fallen to the ground.
The hand that pressures and pulls us makes us feel numb
and the one that frees us turns us wild.
The unavoidable collapse gets shorter in time
but its force and its consequences will be the same ones:
We’ll go into the uninhabited plane;
there will be no regressive bipeds in the landscape.
The whole turns into a line that fades the barbarity away
Only the rests of the origin inevitably remains
These are the same rests that will permute because of cosmos’ laws
These are the same rests that human race will not be able to change at all.
We’ll found a space duality
not to condemn every human being.
We’ll have our last opportunity
just to survive, to be free.
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
The Unexplored; The unexplored and The Strange;
a cupful of shiny and newborn universe;
hands that seemed shooting stars;
vinyl covers from The Unreal Place;
a mahogany lung;
Indian faces appearing in the rug;
the tide and the swell
moving inside the seascape...
Moving inside the seascape...
Moving inside the seascape...
And the electric symphony was the heartbeat
from the black and white Metropolis;
and the music filled my eyes
with the yellow sound of the dessert sand,
of the dessert sun…
And the fulgurant, blazing colt
which came from the sudden rite
danced, trotted and run amuck
all over my back;
and the fulgurant, smoking colt
which came from the ancestral loom
hammered and hammered its four horseshoes
deep into my bones, deep into my gloom…
|
||||
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