Lyrics

 She is a lord
(Sylvie Frétet)

Fingers get out of shape, she seeds a powder on her toes
could stop her heart, forgets her name
throws brain codes in jail.

The lords likes to break her head, the lords likes to drown her mind.

She is a lord, without weapons or shield,
except granite wings and concrete fines,
except the air and the earth, she brings under her shoes.

The lords likes to break her head, the lords likes to drown her mind.

No flying no swimming for the lord, no running no jumping for the lord,
just lost memories in black books.
Only bad trips in a simple life

The lords likes to break her head, the lords likes to drown her mind.

 Over the Table
(Nemanja Dragicevic)

Once upon a time in a jungle a king called lion met a pork
asked him why he's on a tree, the pork said : I'm a monkey
If you are a monkey, jump from tree to tree.
If you're a pork jump on my fork.
This is animal poetry that no rhyme can eat.
This is for the girls and boys wanting meat in their plates.
I'm the food you can't hate.

I'm just an animal, open my belly, cut my ribs

If you want to travel, eat. Take a seat, and breath,
you will need a rest after the feast.
Can't stop the feast, won't stop the feast
I invented the fork while travelling on a pork.
And if you want to die, then stop eating.
My fork is my tool, my pork is my pet and I want my tool to kill my pet.
Cause all I wanna do is eat some fresh meat.

We're all are animals, we're all are cannibals,
and we're all gonna end like a pork on a fork.

 Too Late
(RS)

A small monster running the place,
taking care of everything, taking out the trash,
estimating and transforming,
always there for me, always scheming.

It's too late, he's running the place.
I'm happy, it's too late…

 Summer Days
(RS)

Everyone is dead. Bright light, dark sunshine.
Everyone is missing. I'm just a lonely head.
Everything is ruined. Colors are gone, black tones prevail.
Something doesn't work, I can feel it, I would like to share.

Everything is gone, black holes, empty space.
Everybody's out, don't know where to look.
Sunshine's in my mind, and darkness is in my flesh.
Sunshine's in my mind, and darkness lives on my skin.

 The Enlightened Man
(Sylvie Frétet)

What should be read in her eyes when our feet want to speak.
She does not admit the love in our assaults.
She spits on our faith, doesn't approve our choices.
She claims that our being, right now and later in afterlife,
will be cursed for ever.

We don't want this.
We sort our waste.
We empty our trash.
And we fight the devil.

But everything is clear, my life is clean, my life is spotless,
and I make a point of honor to offer you
the most beautiful requiem that will not cost a cent,
and I will scream it without losing a single tear.

We don't want this.
We sort our waste.
We empty our trash.
And we fight the devil.

 Walk
(RS)

Walk into your private hell, by yourself, everyday.
Drive into your private hell, no curves, no turns.
Walk into your private hell for the rest of your life.

For the rest of your life, no eyes, no heart,
no blood, no mouth.
Jam your head into the wheel.

 We Fly
(RS)

You're just a piece of a big mess, a big chunk of junk that builds itself.
The rust on your body feeds the germs in your head, everything goes round.
Don't look to this horrible noise, you might see a tiny head.
The world is a grape of small indescribable faces, useless and blank.

We fly, above the crowd.
We fly, above the clouds.
We fall, like anything else.
We fall, despite our empire.

Outside the loop, we fly, we slide, at the speed of light.
We have strange bones and skin, everything has a price.
From the sky, we watch our kind, we laugh and sometimes we cry.
Arms, foot, jaws, tongue and blood, you can try, but there is no way, for you to reach us.

We fly, above the crowd.
We fly, above the clouds.
We fall, like anything else.
We fall, despite our empire.

 All Night
(RS)

As I'm waiting for this little thing to clear the way.
My body is boiling when my mind is making up some useless ghosts.
All at once, a path appears, she's waiting and I'm on my way.
And we fuck all night.

 The Melting Man
(RS)

I am waiting for this girl in this bar, this place is warm, huge and slow.
A man is standing there, holding still for quite some time now,
out of place, and out of synch, no one pays attention.

And suddenly, he's taking a deep breath and starts to melt.

All those guts and raw material are getting through the floor,
and soon enough, it's back to normal again.

I wonder if she would have liked to see this.

 Strange Teeth & Black Nails
(Sylvie Frétet)

On the other side, he can see in the dark.
Dichromatic world, in a neighboring place.

I find his face, strange teeth and black nails.
His claws' looking for my head.

His mouth, like a comb, smiles to my hair.
But what about my flesh?

But what about my flesh?
What about my brain?
His eyes magnify my kind.

I have no fur, no tail. We have no soul, no god
Is it so easy, to see the other side?

I try to hear in the dark...
And something in my heart, talks to the other side.

 The Hole
(RS)

Sunday morning, I had the urge to put a hole in place of my face.
That's not sad, there is nothing to worry about.
It's not what you think.

Surprisingly I can see.
I can store small things in the hole.
I tryed a large range of decorations.

Fake animals, candy, pills, flowers, food.
Nothing was good.

Eventually I got tired of the hole and got rid of it.
Everything is fine.
Everything looks nice.
The stitches are uneven.

 Transfixed Night
(Sylvie Frétet)

He's hearing strange sounds, she's too scared too move.
He should go now, the creature will hit him.
Where are you now, the bed is empty,
where are you now, the bed is empty.
Who made the massacre?
Who's hurting my ears?
He's earing strange noise, he's earing strange sounds.
She's too scared to move, he should go now.

I'm a fucking pork, it's a pork attack.
I'm a fucking pork, it's a pork attack.
I'm a fucking pork, I'm a fucking pork,
I'm a fucking pork, I'm a fucking pork.

I'm hearing strange sounds, I'm too scared to move.
We should go now. The creature will hit her.
Where is he now, the bed is empty.
Who are you? Stop the noise.

 Boxes
(Sylvie Frétet)

Birds under the grave, spiders around my neck.
My nerves into the earth, play with foolish bones.

Take a look inside, ensuring there's no secret.
Haunting dialectic, dialectic of the boxes.

Could you help me?
I have to drive this machine, which puts skin and flesh.
Which puts blood in large boxes,
In a black being,
in a black being.

Could you help me? I feel a rat in my body
Could you help me? The rat is in my box...

 List of Things
(RS)

One for the mind, two for the arm, three for the sex,
one for the heart, two for the cell, three for the pain,
one for the sex, two for the love, three for the fingers,
one for the host, two for the leech, three for the blood, four is the body, …