The Palindrome Sequence
released 07 September 2014
all rights reserved
feeds for ,
- Track Name: Man Vs. Wild
From simple things, has grown up a dollop.
It’s complicated and confuses the masses.
Also it aspires to perfection, but this complication has degenerated.
Throw the balance off, break to autarchy, devoure the nature, where you were born from.
Laying fire against the cold, building a house against the rain.
Driven by instinct.
However, It could be experienced, it's built up by the simplest things, like anyone else.
The comfort makes a life of ease, and deletes the personality of who we are.
Forgotten past remains.
We are on top of development.
We confute our own affirmation.
We behave radical with ourselves.
We lay traps against ourselves.
After a 1000 years the marks what we left for the next generation will disappear.
They wont define our lives and our history.
- Track Name: Gepetto Protocol
Chipping, Producing from a pinewood to the toothpick.
She has cropped an inorganic matter in her body.
He’s suffocating in the sea of estrogen.
You stray from your bloodline, you yield yourself for a strange effect.
Once revarded, once hit even as a dog on a training, to behold the etiquette and the limit between grown man and child.
So many kind of men, so many kind of personalities.
Do we agree with anyone?
I have passed the main period of my life, and this pendulum won't swing anymore.
It rests in calm and peace, I think the poise has been restored.
I’m facing my reflection, there is no parallelism, nor chiral symmetry
- Track Name: Don't Try To Raise To My Blind, Bitch!
You play with your value, you always bet it.
The green monster moves the need.
Push your soul into the middle of the table.
While you're rubbing your sweaty palm.
The friendship against the chief.
You spit him on face, with a smile on your face, and you bite out his eye.
Because it’s the mirror of the soul.
Forces on the shoulder, like on the balance.
Their weight push you down, or fool you into.
Trasnformed machines, programmed processes: Counting, Betting, Winning.
At the end where there’s only barrened wasteland, bet your last cooper,
standing by the table looted by.
Lay our head to rest, the hope keeps you always warm.
Think that: Shit can happen.
But there’s a wizard, who’s separated by appreciation.
Reclining upon emotions, that triggers the embarrassment.
And it causes destruction, this is the only way to survive.
- Track Name: Hostages Cannot Escape Fast Enough
Platonically, just platonically.
Dispossessed of all kinds of equipments.
From this time forth we can divide and conquer unless you don't want more fuel to fire.
Van Gogh has sent his other ear ,too
Because she deserves it as an unsofisticated gold.
Don’t you know where is my spine?
I am a contortionist who’s good for only one thing, to wipe up the floor with him.
It’s too late to beg for mercy after she has turned her thumb down on the spectator’s terrace.
An unblindfolded execution without the chance to say our last word.
By tomorrow clocks won’t tick the rhythm of seconds.
Where butterflies flew there and back a long time ago, now demons declare war against us.
Release the fucking hatred, motherfucker!
Dispose the halo above your head, pluck out the feathers from your wings, then spread the blackest plauge above this city on the blackest friday.
How many times do we need to realize, we dont row in the same boat?
Let the incohate song remains, unsung.
Let the frequent questions remain, unanswered.
And where I put my trust in you, let it be untrustworthy.
Feeding from nihilism, staying on a constant point till our beard is grown.
Even a bite of bread can't go through my throat because her lack is choking me.
Wasting time to wait for that ship, haven's light does not call back, it rather let it lost in the fog.
What if i say, my acts were not in vain?
It doesn't matter how long you mind on the next step, at the end the king will get checkmate by the queen.
- Track Name: Captain Crunch And The Sinking Ship
Acting like Conan the barbarian, but you're only the smallest in lillyput.
Your voice is louder than anything.
If the weakness prevails the spirit, I can be vulnerable.
Bring back the state, when conversations allay the passion.
The feeling of security wakes up the courage, but what would you do in a reciprocal situation?
False conceptions drag you across the fog covered empty forest.
As the saying goes: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
Your kingdom is built up by pity, no more need than the weakest breeze to make it collapse.
I'll give you that breeze, to get you fucking round!
- Track Name: Byron's Verse Is Left Undone At The 7th Strophe
More value has got into the one part of the scale-beam.
What else could I balance this scale, if not with the weight of the world.
Let’s climb that edgeless mountain, where I’ll set off the avalanche against you.
Rocking the cradle, with bloody hand, on thin ice to disturb the calmness.
All the dream and aims are backed, to make the comfort.
Everyone’s speaking with bated breath, getting louder and louder.
The bellweather turns into a lamb.
Now, I have to enjoy the company of jackals.
When they feast on me, it is the final nail in the coffin.
What you smell is the smell of burned desires.
They are ignited by malevolance, I wont regret.
These walls are not built for, to sit in judgement on me, behind them.
Two stranger fingers seize together, whilst another two fusion in X formation.
- Track Name: Galilei Syndrome
This is not the worst nightmare nor an unfulfilled fairytale.
Why do they write the history, those, whom the time swallows soon?
Everybody chases that chariot, rides faster and leads us to the grave.
Too many beneficaries take credit for your work, so you never reap what you sow, cause they tear the soil.
The perfect creations of god are their own parasites.
It would be better for our kind to eat each other or itself.
Because we just tread on ourselves.
This is still not a nightmare, but i wish it would be like this wakefulness.
Let’s get the waltz started on our chaotic, discordant, earsplitting, false noted, motherfucking, swan song.
The world is on a string, even the overlords fell on their knees.
Those who bends their heads for it, their windowless house will bend on them.
The world is on a string, even the overlords fell on their knees.
Instead of making the best of the last hours, they fall asleep on their death bed.
- Track Name: When Stowaways Become Passengers
It all begins where 4 lines converge to the sky, with a stairway where every stair bear a name, and change place with each other.
While the herd is growing, some sheeps are becoming leaders.
Some pillars work as the weakest chainlink, demolish even the most massive sronghold.
Learn the same structure with the same jaw, so flash all the dark snatch.
These are the tears of wonder, they wipe out from their eyes.
I try to crawl back from this pit, made by you.
If i refuse, i get deeper.
The only face is the neutral one, where we can't read from.
What could that virus be, destroying every kind of shield?
I didn’t say that i'm sick of it all, i'm just sick of you.
So do me a favour, when you are at leasure, don't show compassion.
While the herd is growing, some sheeps are becoming leaders with predator instict and „seek and destroy” feature.
Every trivial meaningless monologue, shall fall on deaf ears.
If you want to start it again, leaving behind the past.
You better never forget that bygones we’ll never be bygones.
- Track Name: IDDQD Means Playing God, Then Hell Breaks Loose, Like Never Before
Somebody has hidden a needle in a haystack.
Impossible to find it, but it can still stab.
Lack of a particle causes anarchy in the universe.
I see the fortune, doesn’t smile upon you.
Long live the patience of a saint.
But it looks like one day the curve will reach the axis.
A revolver is loaded with 5 blank cartridge, and 1 deadly bullet.
Which one are you?
Wich one will be fired next time?
I have already sufficed with my swallowed pride.
When you salt the ground for bareness, you salt a lot of wound.
No matter how hard our burden is, I bear them till i'll be compressed.
Probably they'll vanish only at my burial.
I give my hand with open palm but yours is turned close.
Chew my bone up with the tooth, flawless from the outside, rotten and
sore from the inside.