1. |
Echo Chamber
05:10
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To much empty spaces in this room that should be filled.
Take all these friendly faces nicely framed, calm and still.
Fill out all these spaces with their mouths that sing your songs.
Of the ideas you all share in your heads. They’re never wrong.
Tongue by tongue. - Brick by brick.
Layer over layer of mirror shards and assent.
Fill this gap. Stuff this breach.
Build the perfect surface to reflect every speech.
Caress your work.
And feed it well.
Accord to all these faces. to the stories that they tell.
Nodding approvals
and shaking hands.
Sometimes trading sayings that carry on ideals.
In this room
which is so safe.
Everywhere are pillows of likeminded brains.
The density of all the truth
Clocks every further look.
Hides other rough realitys.
And blood behind the wall.
This room that mirrors everything
of what you all approve.
This room that locks out everything
That can’t possibly be true.
Now scream out loud
Or just give a whisper.
And bath in agreement and selfmade wisdom.
Your predication
will find its pairs.
And help to create the feeling of a righteous world.
While behind these selfbuild walls
The world shines in it’s own light.
And stands in it’s own darkness.
Untouched by the echoes in your chamber.
Untouched by the mimic plastered to your walls.
And in that corner lays a hammer.
Without a use.
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2. |
Hook Blind
01:59
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Don't take the bait!
Do you really think it's as easy as this?
Just a present from a nice soul?
Can't you smell it?
There is something in the air.
Something on these hidden hands.
Not this night.
Not right now.
But you are the trophy.
You are the prize
that they want you to pay.
They know you'll come back.
They know you to well.
And they have time.
And they have time.
Do you feel their eyes on you?
Do you feel their eyes on you?
Hook blind...
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3. |
Ten Floors Down
04:59
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Upstairs-he went - carried up by a small box
Familiar-faces - the circle hasn’t changed
Half a year gone by without feeding the vein
short words exchanged in an empty flat
The shot hit gold
his mind just hit the floor
This is the way out
collapse and fall through the door
Tumbling Backwards
hands searching for hold
familiar faces
melting together with walls
a cold wave of blood
spreading in his torso
no words are left
by an open mouth
Some steps-downstairs
then everything turned to ice
Air left his lung
Pinpoint pupils shut off the light
That’s where_the others
found him dead and dragged him back
inside
Rigor mortis made a visit.
Did it’s job and departed.
Grey deranged extremities
in the arms of decay.
The appartment started to smell.
while flies did find their castles.
It became unbearable.
and raised a treacherous smell.
Wrapped up- in a curtain- they stuffed him in a closet.
Even heroin- can’t cover - the smell of a dead body.
The blooming - stench reached out. Reached out - into the stairhouse.
The radius kept growing.
They tossed his corpse off the balcony..
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4. |
Hypnos
04:12
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In this room there is only
one pair of eyes
which finds itself in three simple framed mirrors
two in the bathroom
and one on the way to the door
the air is stale and smells like the hotel floor
the next step
given up to soon
all these piled up options
left for dead in bloom
the next spark
burned out to soon
all these piled up options
left for dead in bloom
it took all day for the loneliness to get pressed
to one hard lump
ripe without any use
now it fits into a glas
the next step
given up to soon
all these piled up options
left for dead in bloom
the next spark
burned out to soon
all these piled up options
left for dead in bloom
just the sound of the street
flows through the window
and the head is crammed
starring occasionally out of the window
just to find again
this one pair of eyes
meaningless because well known
sleep calls
opiate like
the time capsule to the next overfilled vacuum
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5. |
Dead Spiritualist Silent
04:01
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In an apartment in Detroit 1921
On a cold evening on February the 6th
Thomas Lynn Bradford started to seal his room
His hands weren't shaking
Guided by the confidence
that this is not the end.
That he would just step throgh a gate.
His one-way-ticket to a place named summerland.
The plan was completed at the meeting the night before.
Ruth and him decided to open the door.
And she said she'd be there.
Opening her mind to receive his call.
To find proof that there is an afterlife
and that the dead can communicate with the living.
He blew out the pilot light
and started the gas.
„Detroit, February seventh
More than forty-eight hours have passed.
Ruth Doran didn't hear anything!
Dead Spiritualist Silent“
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6. |
Dunkelziffer
08:13
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The Phone always rings at night.
A sonor dry repetative cry.
Alarming but still expected.
He picks up. Every time.
Like a silent confession.
With an open end.
No Voice.
Just Silence.
Sometimes_ a silent breathing.
Not as_ if composed by lust.
No Voice.
Just Silence.
Sometimes_ a silent breathing.
Not as_ if composed by lust.
Just breathe.
someone listening.
And knowing.
The past is present.
Still no words
Just breathe.
someone listening.
And knowing.
The past is present.
Still no mouth
Just a speaker
like a wound
A vibrant stitch through his ear
opens the door to a bottomless pit
in his mind where nothing ever hits the floor
the discovery
that the line has been dead for years
left him in cold sweat
left weight on his chest
this changes everything
and nothing changes
whom can you trust
if not even yourself
there's fourty million schizophrenic worldwide
go ahead
dial dunkelziffer
Go ahead
...dial dunkelziffer!
Look over your shoulder
Whom can you trust
if not even yourself?
Are these people staring at you?
dial dunkelziffer
look over your shoulder
whom can you trust
if not even yourself?
Pick up the phone!
A Dead Line
A dead End
No Bell Ringer
No Recipient
Whom can you trust?
A Dead Line!
A dead End!
No Bell Ringer!
No Recipient. Whom can you trust
if not even yourself? Dial dunkelziffer!
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7. |
Lurking Fear
07:44
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Everybody carries this black condensed bag
somewhere in his center
close to the stomach
it's filled with fear, anger, axiety, despair,
tiny teeth and wounds
we know it's there
when it takes over
when it reacts
or sedates
when it sharpens or dulls the blade
this black center
this black hole
(this black center
this black hole
this black bag
that you carry along)
everybody carries this black condensed bag
with portioned dark suprises
well hidden most the time
then cutting through the surface
like a knife
behind the happiest face
lives a little dark tennant
this black center
this black hole
that makes things hard to take back
that cuts off friends and opportunities
that cuts and bites
that is a part of you
this black center
this black hole
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