1. |
Selfie Show
03:55
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Today, outrageous sun,
tries to find its own way
as I am deep down the metro
(imagine what a strength)
Today, empty train,
emptier than ever been
as I stare at these seats
(wasted, wasted eyes)
Today, Russian girls,
stretching tourist lips
their telephones like rifles
(boom, boom, flash parade)
A selfie show
A selfie show
A selfie show
A selfie show
(egocentric smiles: the plot)
Today, precarious lover
just trying to find a match
as I get lost into my dreams.
(vintage, vintage man)
Today, crowded square
tourists filming all they can
as I realize I'm simply gone
(flocculent materialism)
Today, Russian girls
blonde hair, taking pics
I don't get what's the point of this
(what the hell what the hell)
The end, the end of innocence
has the sound of silence
black colour, the taste of blood and salt.
A dead end street
with no beginning and no end
a song of sorrow plays, empty voices speak,
useless words appear
to fill the vacuum of what is lost.
No cherries and no pie,
no sugar in the night,
an instinct to control, a brain to keep afloat.
A selfie show.
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2. |
Frames of Decay
07:13
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We are floating on a satellite
Living over a random lie
Never ready, never right
We are cheating on our world
Killing our dreams, serving lies
Never ready, never right
And the finger of the cheater
is a chord more than a whisper
the leading tune to impunity
We are breaking down our throne
Our conquers will be just gone
Never ready, never fine
We are tearing down our sky
spreading rumours, faking cries
Never ready in hindsight
And the message of the dreamer
is an ultrasound, not a jitter
the faint melody of modernity
So burn your map, lady,
we need to forget borders,
we need to be to one another
just like friends, just like lovers
and if you're not ready, you must be ready,
you will be ready, if you're not already
and if you're scared, just don't be scared,
my ship has been sinking like forever.
I'll wait for you
at the bus stop,
or anywhere nearby,
or wherever love might come;
and you'll witness the decay,
the frames, lights are on,
the frames, the curtain falls,
the frames of our decay.
If you ever like this fucked modernity
If you ever understand this modernity
If you ever got what's right and wrong
If you ever got what's the point
If you ever got the sense of this
If you ever got why this wall
If you ever got why all this hate
If you ever got the indifference
If you ever got the ship so unsteady
If you ever got the guns, violence, darkness
If you ever got the meaning of this fog
If you ever got the deniers of everything
If you ever got the hate sellers
If you ever got the nationalists
If you ever got the cold wars
If you ever got the border drawers
If you ever got the next dictators
If you ever got the liars, the fake ones
If you ever got the tears we keep inside
If you ever got the businessmen
If you ever got the emotions gone
If you ever got the minor thing
If you ever got the final words
If you ever got the delay
If you ever got the ocean
If you ever got it someday
You won't surely miss
The frames of our decay
And I wish I were you
without the need to think of myself...
And the curtain falls.
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3. |
Portbou
03:44
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Drinking people, not a plain thought,
killing neurons like this winter and my soul,
drugs of poison spilling into heavy skins
like this water rebuilding a grape of rocks.
No surprise here can be surprising,
nothing important or exceptional to me,
I'm checking out the borders of my life,
breaking windows, tearing my wagon apart
and getting off, getting off
from this kind of jail
and getting off, getting off
to realize where to stay.
(where should I stay?)
Stairs and mirrors reflecting an abandoned place
where the mountains pretend to meet the sun
Stairs and mirrors reflecting an abandoned place
where the mountains pretend to meet the sun
in Portbou...
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4. |
Wartime Soundtrack
06:28
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This is a wartime soundtrack
straight from this modern age
where everyone is enslaving himself again.
This is a wartime soundtrack
straight from the rebel firm
where every brand means fire to me
This is a wartime soundtrack
straight from the age of media
where you can die on TV: nobody would really care
This is a wartime soundtrack
struck by careful claims
where everyone is believing every truth.
This is a wartime soundtrack
straight from the darkest rooms
where they're hammering another nail
This is a wartime soundtrack
straight from the coldest town
where nobody will ever listen to you,
where nobody will offer you an applause.
The rope is unraveling, let’s sing Feng Shui.
We need another howl…
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Angelo Romano Palermo, Italy
Born 1982 in Sicily, Angelo Romano is a singer-songwriter with a totally personal approach to music and arts. His life is kind of a weird storybook, with several cities all around where he spent some time and lived his life: from Pisa to Florence, from Ottawa to Amsterdam, from Groningen to Berlin, Utrecht, Barcelona and then Palermo, where he is currently based. ... more
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