1. |
Memo
04:56
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All turning points can serve as a diversion
from the dead-end potential
You’ll see, I’m gonna hit the dead-end with a damn smirk, YOU’LL SEE
By then I’ll be in no point to ask you for any help so pray, they’ll pray for me
This particular turning point has kept me spinning for years
drilling myself inch by inch into the, so-called, immutability
The closer the horizon gets the closer the sun sets,
till your eyes go beneath the ground and you can forget your sound.
Leave me
no choice but to move
so I must find something to prove.
Give me
utopia as a rule
and non-believers as a tool
to make excuses for my being useless,
it’s not me who’s slacking,
it’s the world that’s lacking movement around me
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2. |
Parasolic Tan
04:13
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To pass on sad facts,
to deny the complexity within your ability to take
hold of your day with paper to pay,
cuz every little footstep you make ain’t free.
That’s co-existing,
the paper is listing guilt in an ascending order,
spending under the leviathan parasol,
too bad the thing is only covering half the world.
It’s a pretty good time to start holding your breath
till you burst saving the ones who stand under the sun.
Guilt(full) to the bone, sugar-coating doing something wrong,
a scene recycling compliments on talking yet not walking, like this song.
Well, it’s bigger than a word, bigger than a speech, bigger than a whole life politically correct
Sad, they don’t feel the same and I’m bound to respect our differences.
Such a way to go, equating all into a song.
Sunrays claiming diffusion from the land
Sunrays traced back to the holes of the parasol
Sunrays burning the contrast permanent
Sunburnt souvenirs of what equates us all
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3. |
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A|GOOD|EMO|BOAT|NEVER|SINKS
Part of me is setting sail to stop staring at this to do list
Part of me is a panic bomb but dismantling could ruin the rest
My half-accomplished goals still need time under the non-evaluating sun
Part of me is counting days till the abiding drift is interesting again
Part of me is parting ways with distraction and looks for the fastest lane
So tired of searching for the junctions that will keep the goal unclear
I’ve wanted more, been here before, believing in an exit rather than a door, a never even score
Another city that was asking for it, saying goodbye with a straight face
Buoyancy claiming my place,
and this pond is getting claustrophobic day by day
but I’m not saying I’m a big fish I just love the taste of my leash
and I chew with my mouth and eyes open,
I KNOW WHO’S SMILING WHEN I’M CHOKING
A soaking leash might break, the loose end might serve as an excuse
to enthuse, to move forward till the saddest part explodes!
You change your gait to levitate, the bottom’s pushing you away, right?
Gone, the surface is moving away,
my own trace is leading back home, was floating a hoax?
the surface above me provokes, was there a reason for this course?
if not, is floating underwater a door?
Was there a reason to seek more?
_for leaving through an open door?
Is there a midpoint between the seafloor
AND THE SURFACE!
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4. |
Juxta/pose
03:41
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He reached out, to crop everything out of reach
he wouldn’t know what he ruled out
Amputating notions just a bit over his head
But then again he’d never miss
thoughts he had counted out.
he rounded himself up, to roll his moments out, detritus left a trail
less, in every rough terrain, he’d leave some pieces back small price to pay
momentum wouldn’t drop but his perception radius reduced so much, ended up perforating all
Yet he’d juxtapose, all disruptions with
his self-imposed, perfect symmetry
he would expose all he ever was to a new found cause to juxtapose
wont blame those schematized
same stories may force same endings
Yet he’d juxtapose, all disruptions with
his self-imposed, perfect symmetry
he would expose all he ever was to a new found cause to juxtapose
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5. |
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Skip the queue for a common misconception
Designated fantasies have finally ceased to help
-Alright, alright, you can try and rethink to get by
But forcing present to past’s only the pretext for your shaping
forms to norms and remembering something else
but as narrations unfold plot holes check in to prove they’re all but gone
Did you find enjoyment
in a past you could foresee
In this new found power
the price of which would be
long pauses caused by adequate dismays
failing to communicate in present day
no one would justify
The weight you create doesn’t seem to abate Best to keep it to yourself
The weight it’s your state yours to desecrate Best to keep it to yourself
You should have known projecting doesn’t go with facing
Problems framed on walls seeking attention with a straight face
What’s no more’s building a wall only you write on
problems that refer to no one, hence there’s no one there
Did your problems languish, cycling in your head
Now with no receiver a hush descends
Within the weight, it’s relevance’s innate
Within the weight, your need is your main trait
The weight you create doesn’t seem to abate Best to keep it to yourself
The weight it’s your state yours to desecrate Best to keep it to yourself
You should have known projecting doesn’t go with facing
beating around bushes past ambitions are set to surface (in a corpse way)
What’s no more’s building a wall only you write on
problems that refer to no one, hence there’s no one there
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Bad Bid Athens, Greece
Bad Bid are:
Gennadios Arvanitis on violin/backing shouts_
Christos G.
Kritikos on guitar/vocals_
Nick Neofytos on bass/vocals_
Costas Papathanasopoulos on the drums_
Alex Sak on the trumpet/backing shouts_
Marios Vittis on the trumpet/backing shouts_
George Zafeiropoulos on the sax/backing shouts
... more
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