1. |
Carne, membrillo
00:37
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All the extremes are fucked up.
The politically correct is killing us.
Reject all the lies and simply embrace
respect, education, humor and basic ethics.
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2. |
Happiness
02:59
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They used to pretty up the result in hopes of a favorable assessment.
Remote happiness was their usual alibi.
Mental codeine shots for someone else's pain.
The hours didn't pass without their momentary dose,
A moment, sometimes life.
They closed their eyes for a moment,
Then imagined they were alive and before they realized,
They were already reading it.
That day wasn’t different at first,
Although the times were merging into one
As if it were an ordinary engagement
-Mundane business keeps you busy everyday-
They spent a lot of hours tying up loose ends, erasing clues,
Convincing themselves of their non-plurality.
But that evening, there, in front of them, them, damn, them.
They realized all them were dead ends,
Turned ’em upside down,
Went out in search of new theories
That could explain…
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3. |
Anti-Defeat
03:08
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Years went by slowly and nothing came up.
Days were agonizing never ending.
Only the noise of the chains on every May 4
Modified the annual script.
What once had been a grandiose crowd,
Now it was simply excess.
Excess of indigence, so tragic
Without anything nor anyone
Doing something and still nothing came up.
lt was so well systematized that encouraged discouragement.
If you supposed that anything could change,
Then you guessed right.
What still remained uncertain is
The direction of that change you wished for.
And if at dawn I haven’t come back,
Call the morning.
She knows my destiny,
She has known me since my childhood, since my early childhood,
Where motley lights, colorful and without an owner,
They took over my dreams making a better world.
We’ll never witness the consequences of it all,
Nor have firsthand knowledge
About if the ignored war warnings were ground for our defeat,
Tho nothing forgotten brought us
Ways to channel the obvious
- If we weren’t able to channel the obvious, we better shut the stream and open a new escape route and blow the fuck out the way things are and how we know ‘em, a new route to make everything fall apart and start all over again -
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4. |
A Real Conquest
03:43
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Hey, this place is burning.
Hey, this place is burning and here we go.
Hey, burning and nothing seems to be able to avoid it.
Yesterday the cold stopped the cognitive hemorrhage.
Hey, we had to focus
Hey, we had to focus our minds on surviving.
Two hundred covers gave their souls to the darkest permanent silence, And there we were to suffer the spectacle.
The pamphlets said nothing about this.
Once again advertising, once again.
I suppose that if we manage to get out unscathed from this madness,
Nothing will be the same, nor different.
It will not be. It will cease to be.
This place’s burning, this place’s burning, here we go
And there will we be to remember
What happened and to toast with our bodies,
Praising the capacity of our animal side.
Ready and set for another spin of the wheel
In the hope of finding the way to go off
On one of its infinite tangents.
If we are lucky maybe this time it won’t be
Another roundabout path that take us back
To the circular bottomless pit.
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5. |
The Cave
03:00
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Don’t call it love,
When you know in fact you are so badly hooked on it.
I’m only a compulsive gambler trying to get over a bad choice.
Let's drink this homemade liquor.
Take me to the cave to play the last game.
My worst choice is your best option.
My worst nightmare!
If finally no one gets wounded,
We can play as many monopoly games as we are able.
We will take the mickey out of everyone.
And your best choice was my worst nightmare,
But your choices are void,
Though your binge is badass sick fun.
If finally no one gets wounded,
We can play as many monopoly games as we are able.
We will take the mickey out of everyone,
While you bang my head against the wall after I told you about my liberty
One more time
I don’t wanna grow up, but it’s just like… Not with you at least. We can discuss it tomorrow. Meanwhile, just fuck me.
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6. |
Travel
02:07
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Let's pack and go on a trip to that place we think is unknown.
Let's enjoy the journey, because that is the ultimate purpose.
If in the end we realize that this place is equal to the origin,
I don't give a goddamn, cause
We will have lived an offbeat experience.
What's still unclear is the setup in terms of luggage.
Some people say it’s cowardly
To fill up your suitcase to the top.
It may be better to carry as little as possible
Feed and clothe us on that road
and leave the rest to chance.
One thing is clear to me:
I do not want to regret not having tried.
Lucy was on the verge of getting it.
We will always remember her,
Dear lucy, one thing is clear to me.
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7. |
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8. |
Lemons
03:21
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They called her Lemons ‘coz of her addiction to decaffeinated coffee,
With half a bag of plain sweetener, oh please,
And straight gin, with no ice.
She was the last of seven sisters.
Her early years scampering around her family’s feed warehouse
Forged the basis of what sometimes seemed to be.
Like a row of palm trees lined up along the waterfront.
Like a dog that decides this is the place to curl one out
She was like that, one little step after the other.
Hopelessly plunged into the obligation to move forward.
Unavoidable like the spinning of a wheel on a downhill road.
And if the milling goes wrong, you know that I don't give a fuck, no.
There was a time, both sweet and sour, in which she decided to capture her miseries on cocktail napkins.
They called her Lemons ‘coz of her addiction
To prompt awkward situations for everyone.
She used to defoliate daisies as a hobby on winter afternoons.
“If it rained someday I would go out and dance”
That thought kept her alive. She wasn’t keen on storms until it rained.
Years later she died due to a panic attack.
Nobody claimed her body, nor her works.
"Seven dead dogs falling face down, and a poor old woman crying in front of her husband's coffin, dead from hysteria"
Those were her last words.
They called her Lemons ‘coz of her addiction to coffee.
Decaffeinated please. Otherwise I panic
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FAiLS! Málaga, Spain
Punk-rock band committed to omitting what a punk-rock band is supposed to be.
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