Another Bloody Night in this Fucking City
Dedicated to the worst city of all
lyrics
Your river was named after the tree of wisdom
But can you tell me something?
No, you can't, you fool, you disgusting pile of ashes
and shattered dreams,
Ancient gods from your streets look at me
With faces of boredom, anguish and pain.
The neverending story of broken people,
Living in a cloud of poison,
But thinking they can still look at the high
And see the true color of the sky.
No dream for you, nor hope nor life
Lie in a mist of silent despair,
Floating over the screams and the flashes of vanity and dread
I want to get out of here!
You can't exist, you must not!
Trapped here I can only imagine
Fire, destruction, oblivion, decay!
Forgiveness is far from your reach.
The cancer of perpetual alienation
That inherited the disease of past centuries
I can only see the delusion of false hope
For consciousness is a grave that you can reach
A collective hallucination of pretending smiles
A tide of regression where you only can drown
Beneath such horrorific dismay there should be a shard of light
But no, this place is dreadful, an awe of consternation
Putrid and desolate, never beautiful
Pathetic fates destined to meet in bitterness
Not a glimpse of what is promised in narcotic wraith
Everything is a broken mirage of a mangled vigor
Lost in repeating moments of decadence and degeneration
A mosaic of moral malformation destroyed by decline
Another bloody night in this fucking city,
And darkness falls over me like a rain of shame,
Washing away everything good in my life
And filling me with anger and hate
As you can fill any heart, any glass, any recipe,
With the sour scent of false smiles and good decieves.
No dream for you, nor hope nor life,
In legends of yore, corrupted cities,
For much less than what I can see,
Were merciless erased with sulphur and fire,
But you prevail in your cradle of misery and lies,
And trapped here I can only imagine
Fire, destruction, oblivion, despair ...!
Forgiveness is a flower that cannot bloom in a putrid land.
supported by 7 fans who also own “Otra Noche De Mierda En Esta Puta Ciudad”
On ne frappe pas un homme à terre : c'est ce que dit la règle mais NONE a déjà prouvé qu'il ne les suivait pas et si son album éponyme retirait toute perspective de béatitude spirituelle, Life has gone on long enough, son deuxième opus, nous interdit l'accès au bonheur terrestre. La vie n'a aucune substance et la production plus distante le confirme. Le DSBM s'empare de textures sonores blues, mettant en relief une dépression urbaine. Les cris partent en fumées : ne restent que les pleurs... Jordan Vauvert