1. RIDE (Desperado)

Ride on the way through the desert of our lives
Ride along the way to the point where the sun shines bright.

Riding but never get there.
Is it allowed just to watch?
Catching the balance. Straight to where I want...
The destination may be unknown
if you presume the sun is just another mirage....
to get that feeling when it's almost like drinking with god.

Tonight! I want to get that feeling.
I want it tonight!
Yeah, right!
I want to get that feeling when it's almost like drinking with god.

Drinking with god!

I want to confess him with a glass of wine in my hand to forget.
People seem so small, no importance to things at all.
Questions disappeared although nothing seems more clear.
Looking defined with devotion to the unknown.

Life is worthless and nothing is worth to be alive.
No more fight, no languishment for life.
Death is the last one to give us the sense of life.

Drinking with god!

Tonight! I want to get that feeling
I want it tonight!
Yeah, right!
I want to get that feeling when it's almost like drinking with god.

Tonight!


2. NON PLUS ULTRA

Civilization of animal for the last rapid era
has led us to misty, disheartened yet prosperous times.
We all languish for oblivion.
Autocratic narcissists desire to gain immortality
to rise us from the earthly dust.
We've concocted a story of supreme race
under a creator with a human face.

We don't even allow worms to make a hole into our forehead.
Reject the axiom: Dust to dust!

Do you believe she lets us lead?
She is leading us into a new ice age when we are going to be extinguished.

Man's narcissism derives from the naive conviction we will survive.


3. FEW SECONDS IN CLEARNESS

You said you were not doing it again.
Follow the thoughts. Get caught in between.
Two poles make you undefined.
Is it worth to try again?
You are weaving still the same.
Composing the opposite.
There is something you've done
until it collapses and falls down.

Wind is blowing through your veins.
This is the edge.
Just a step ahead.
Are you gonna try...

... just a step ahead into nothing?
Be prepared for anything.
Riding the wind with a pleasant idea.
Riding on. Do you dare? Do you dare?

Wind is blowing through your veins.
This is the edge.
Just a step ahead.
Are you gonna try?

...until you touch the ground.

These are your few seconds in a lifetime.
You are falling now! You are flying now until you touch the ground.
It's a wonderful. it's a wonderful life.
You are flying now! You are dying now
until you touch the ground.

Fly! Fly to the ground!
The point of view is unchangeable,
History irreversible, situation critical, solution specific.
Confront the two poles! Re-collect the rest!
Re-classify what you have! Re-define your name!
In the end, you are weaving still the same.

You are falling until, until you touch...
You are falling until, until you touch...
You are falling until, until you touch...
All it's clear now until, until you touch the ground


4. COMPRESSED TIME AND SPACE

Der Verstand macht frei!
Everyone is in a line.
We are going through places and times.
Standstill but moving in ordered chaos.

All kind of things we experience at once.

We are pilgrims of time.
We are part of a current of faith.

We are turning the inside to outside and outside to inside.
We squeeze present, future, past in a moment it has no place.
We compress earth and universe in a point it has no mean.

We are pilgrims of our minds playing with space and time.
Leave the line behind.
We are pilgrims of our minds. Jump back in a black hole of time.
Erase every trace of self - restraint.

We are pilgrims out of time.
We are part of a current of faith.

This trip as a gate out of our logic world.
It makes you insane.
Dreadful feeling about being just a dream is a response of artificial time and space.

We are pilgrims of our minds playing with space and time.
Leave the line behind.
We are pilgrims of our minds. Jump back in a black hole of time.
Erase every trace of self - restraint.

We are turning the inside to outside and outside to inside.
We squeeze present, future, past in a moment it has no place.
We compress earth and universe in a point it has no mean.

All you need is faith in yourself!


5. WORDS

Words!
A word, an idea brought into life to be disdain.
It's a skill of our tongue.

The better you lie the better you are!
Words don't give the truth,
able to lie on every occasion they find.

The better you lie the better you are!
Game! A play is not.
Smile! What a feeling to have?
Cry! What a feeling to express?
Smile, cry! What a joy for those who have something to show!

What can a word mean coming from a tongue, a tool to survive?
What can it mean?

The better you lie the better you are!
Game! A play is not.
Smile! What a feeling to have?
Cry! What a feeling to express?
Smile, cry! What a joy!

To represent an idea vs. to manipulate,
A net of expressions and lies.
Which is which?!
Just moral causes give us a no trespassing line.
What happens when all falls apart?


6. THE SALESMEN OF DREAMS

Conscious of worlds. Being in.
Melting one into another, into me.
In need of a place to hide.
The question is above your head.
How can you hide the neck from the hands?
The mind is confused by senses.
No reality is common to all.

Open the door!
You are going in,
Welcome in!
In a dream you got it from us, divulged in you.
Is it wrong to have an illusion that has been taken from a stranger's mind?
Conscious illusion gives us that little bit of peace of mind, not to go wild.
It's conscious escape to act in these subjective worlds.

We don't hold any truth!
We are the salesmen of dreams!

We don't hold any truth!
We are the salesmen of dreams!
Selling you the illusion of sailing on a fantastic weaves with us.
Come with us!

Conscious of worlds. Being in.
Melting one into another, into me.
How can you hide the neck from the hands?

It's a pill to go through you everyday life.
The conscious illusion makes you feel fine.
Take it before you wake up.
Suppress the pure sense that drags you to abnormal pain.
Take a conscious illusion.
Fool your mind.
It's the sweetest addiction in your life.


7. MISS NORBET

She dries flowers in the middle of The waves
It's not sure for whom. Is it mal d' amour?
She doesn't like to die but it gives her taste of paradise.
She demands it now.
To get it now.

She enjoys sparkles at night.
Her sun is gray and her moon is brown.
She is a recluse groping in her hearth.
She is not sure what she's going to find.

Is your joy among angels?

She dries flowers in the middle of The waves
It's not sure for whom. Is it mal d' amour?
She doesn't like to die but it gives her taste of paradise.
She demands it now.
To get it now.

Her peace and quiet scream very loud.
The wind has come to her heart.
She is sick of a dialogue in one.
She's wondering: "Am I mad?"
Dreams of being a rose to adore are sure not for her.
Sometimes you need so little to revive the illusive belief.
Someday will all fade away and she hopes, and she hopes...
Someday will all fade away and she waits, and she waits...

"I don't want do die."

Dreams of being a rose to adore are sure not for her.
Sometimes you need so little to revive the illusive belief.


8. IMPERFECT ID

The roots of our ID, that strive for perfection, are deep in our imperfection.
Hidden passion is building an ideal world.
Never to be achieved but we have to resist.
is there a combination to decode?
A combination of imperfect actions is opening the door to perfection.

Is the trace, we are leaving behind, what we have renounced or what we are?
A lot has been made, not much has changed.

The roots of our ID, that strive for perfection, are deep in our imperfection.
Hidden passion is building an ideal world.
Never to be achieved but we have to resist.
is there a combination to decode?
A combination of imperfect actions is opening the door to perfection.
Is there a progress drawing an increasing straight line or a moving spiral?
idealist are leading the way, all other interfere.
We are going toward a ruthless failure.

Go!
A perfect society, a perfect life!
A perfect robbery, a perfect mind!
A perfect murder, a perfect rage!
A perfect person, a perfect fake...
nowhere to find...

The roots of our ID, that strive for perfection,
are deep in our imperfection.
Hidden passion is building an ideal world.
Never to be achieved but we have to resist.
is there a combination to decode?

Is the trace, we are leaving behind,
what we have renounced or what we are?
A lot has been made, not much has changed.


9. INCUBATE SCARE

A face that doesn't define me anymore. I have to leave it where it belongs.
It was bringing me questions I had already solved.

Transformation of what I mean.
Meaningless is just a few words ahead but it's not the same at all.
Alteration of emancipation is not an alternative.
My reality, it's a cube running over me.

My dimension, it's a cube. Nothing to touch, no side.
My reality, it's a cube. Nowhere to move, to hide.

Passing from mould to mould in regard to the situation.
I'm a full of shapes chameleon.
Rejection failed, sabotaged by the commodity.
My reality, It's a cube running over me.

My dimension, it's a cube. Nothing to touch, no side.
My reality, it's a cube. Nowhere to move, to hide, cover!

Grab my hand! Follow two leaves in a cold fall breeze!
Play their game... A careless dance...
Make your moves really slow.
Shadows can't do it on their own.
Your touch makes me forget there is nothing more to grab.

Save the last tango for me and make me forget there is nothing more to grab.

Moments of total devastation.
Nothing is worth or stable.
Nothing is forever.
The world is feeding me with fear.
I'm doing it to myself.
Nothing to posses or have.
Nothing is to grab.
So, why be so scared?

Feeding, feeding me with fear
just to have me near.
To sell assurance you don't have.
Give stability to my life 'cos scare
demands something to grab.

Grab my hand!
Follow two leaves in a cold fall breeze!
Play their game... A careless dance...
Make your moves really slow.
Shadow can't do it on their own.
Your touch makes me forget there is nothing more to grab.


10. THE WRATH OF WHAT WE WISH TO BE

I tremble on its ironic jokes.

The wrath of decaying corpse is a grotesque end for a tragic comic play.
We are insignificant men confronting ourselves with a possible after play.
It takes all the meaning from our actions.
It's a fact calling in question our artificial constructions of man's hierarchy.

It's all nothing from the prospective of death.
It's everything from the prospective of life.

I'm waiting for death to call.
Terrified! Why do we all have to die?

A sucking parasite since incarnation.
What terrible words an interchange of creation and annihilation.

It's all nothing from the prospective of death.
It's everything from the prospective of life.

I'm still waiting for death to call.
Terrified! Has she forgotten me?
A day, a year with no sense.
It's a curse of what we wish.

A sucking parasite since incarnation.
What terrible words an interchange of creation and annihilation.

I'm still waiting for death to call.
Terrified! Has she forgotten me?

The wraith of decaying corpse is a grotesque end for a tragic comic play.
We are insignificant men confronting ourselves with a possible after play.

All passed by or passed away.
The world has changed.
What am I still doing here?



11. IN NEED OF AN END
(No lyrics available)