and I watch you stumble

drunk out into the night

to cat call ladies

you're thirsty for blood, you're picking a fight

and I wanted to ask you

man, what do you do in the daylight

So bum me a cigarette, buy me a beer

till i'm happy to be here, happy to be here

with all of my family, hookers in heels

and the men who watch them like hungry black eels

Run into me sunday

tell me you had one hell of a time

and through the haze and the gun smoke, I'm forced to believe

you're probably right

And someone lies bleeding

someone got violent and did not think twice

and I watched you my brother, making a fool of the moon tonight

So bum me a cigarette, buy me a beer

till i'm happy to be here, happy to be here

with all of my family, hookers in heels

and the men who watch them like hungry black eels
am I just a spark?

Lyrics by Noah Gundersen/Letra da autoria de Noah Gundersen

You hold the answers deep within your own mind.

Consciously, you've forgotten it.

That's the way the human mind works.

Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us to entertain, we reject it.

We erase it from our memories but, the imprint... is always there.

Isto vai passar, não vai?

Está só a demorar um bocadinho, é não é?

Uns dez anos talvez ou mais... ou mais.

Há bocado, estava a pensar no quão trocista é a vida, estava sentada na cama e bastava inclinar a cabeça para poder ver o belo fogo-de-artifício que iluminava a escuridão, às vezes, de violeta, outras, de vermelho e azul e verde e branco.

Há muitos anos, era eu... e, no Verão, trazíamos uma manta estendíamo-la na eira ou no campo do milho, à espera para ver os fogos-de-artifício lá longe.

Acho que era feliz, acho que éramos felizes, ali, assim, sem saber que existia um mundo para lá do castanheiro grande…

A inocência termina quando se descobre a morte.

Estou triste.

Tenho medo de que não passe, tenho medo.

Não há sentido neste mundo frio e triste e órfão em que me enterraste.

Algo correu mal, algo ficou por apagar, não sei explicar mas houve algum buraco de que te esqueceste de coser.

I

As the official representative for the conformer sororities to a better society I must remind you of the tenants of being a valuable citizen:

Take your vitamins

Whiten your teeth

Sharp in the edge

Comb your hair

Don’t slouch

Watch your tone

Believe in God

Obey the law

Don’t cry

Buy now

Never live

Never try

Never feel

Never lie

Love the day

Fear the night

Do as we say

Obey

Obey

Obey

II

We’ll bury our mistakes

We’ll burn the remains

And pile in the corpses

On ritual flames

Smothering out any shadow of doubt

Don’t bother thinking, we’ll do it for you

III

You see… I have really weird days

I have really good days and I have

Really

Really

Really

Bad days

But the authorities have assured me never to fear

For they’ll soon have me cured

Just fill this prescription and take this pill

Take this sting

Take your meds…

To help your head

And I did.

But things still seem to hurt me

I take my meds to help my head

But things still seem to hurt me

I take my meds to help my head

But things still seem to hurt…

IV 

There are several things I would like to do before exothermic oxidation decides to consume my soul of hungry ghosts:

I’d like to fuck a supermodel every night for six consecutive weeks

I want to lead an ancient army into battle

I want to sleep on a bed blanketed with the skin of my enemies

I want to own a nation

I want to be crucified on a mesquite tree, resurrected three days later

I want to negotiate a multibillion-dollar deal on a boardroom on the six hundred and sixty sixth floor

downtown Manhattan or Wall street or Taiwan or some other metropolis that is just feeding off of its consumer fetishes.

I want to fight as a gladiator in ancient Rome

I want to pleasure the innocents out of four willing, wonderful women in a… sacred sex ceremony of blood and

flesh.

I want to capture the heart of a brilliant, decadent… wonderful artist… and never give it back.

I want to finally find thinkers, believers, seekers, those who are sick of living in this... mundane social identity of every day waking to put on the same cultural costume just so… the others... Won’t look at us… differently.

I want to finally realize, the honor, the power... and the perfect opportunity I have of being locked away in this...

damaged… beautifully flawed…

Skin present.  

V

Hi.

Listen…

Why don’t you just

…have a seat

and…

No really just sit down,

Stay calm.

What I have to tell you is

 …is quite upsetting…

For you.

See, last night I...

took your girl

or… maybe it was your wife

into my mouth like she was

a communion wafer

offered out by a smiling, beguiling pope to an honest sinner.

Her body is bread, cleansed my sins in a sweet, greasy feast that will never ever cease…

to amaze her.

I ate her for hours.

Listening to her cries for help

Swallowed, tasted, enjoyed, digested, and then…

Shat back on the blankets into…

Coma sleep

Did she tell you?

Did she speak of this?

Her terror, for once enjoying herself?

Did she describe the beautiful sting, the scratching, the touching, the pulling, the sucking?

Did she tell you I buried my fingers in her deep enough to cause pregnancy?

Did she explain the rhythm, hmmm the pulse, the gathering climax?

Did she pretend not to care?

But you could see it in her eyes?

Did she giggle a little…

About being cannibalized?

Did she tell you that?

Did she?

No?

Ha. Well… she smelled like fresh melon and ocean air, I can tell you that.

Lyrics by Otep/Letra de Otep

Post Scriptum: transcrita de ouvido e não dispensa de forma absolutamente alguma a audição, de forma nenhuma, mesmo.

Fitter, happier, more productive,

comfortable,

not drinking too much,

regular exercise at the gym

(3 days a week),

getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries, 

at ease,

eating well

(no more microwave dinners and saturated fats),

a patient better driver,

a safer car 

(baby smiling in back seat),

sleeping well

(no bad dreams),

no paranoia,

careful to all animals

(never washing spiders down the plughole),

keep in contact with old friends

(enjoy a drink now and then),

will frequently check credit at

(moral) bank (hole in the wall),

favors for favors,

fond but not in love,

charity standing orders,

on Sundays ring road supermarket

(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants),

car wash

(also on Sundays),

no longer afraid of the dark or midday shadows

nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate,

nothing so childish - at a better pace,

slower and more calculated,

no chance of escape,

now self-employed,

concerned (but powerless),

an empowered and informed member of society

(pragmatism not idealism),

will not cry in public,

less chance of illness

tires that grip in the wet

(shot of baby strapped in back seat),

a good memory,

still cries at a good film,

still kisses with saliva,

no longer empty and frantic

like a cat

tied to a stick,

that's driven into

frozen winter shit

(the ability to laugh at weakness),

calm,

fitter,

healthier and more productive

a pig

in a cage

on antibiotics. 

Letra da autoria de Radiohead/lyrics by Radiohead

Relax... it's over, you belong to me. I fill your mouth with dirt

Relax... it's over, you can never leave. I take your second digit with me...

Love...

You are... my first, I can barely breathe I find you fascinating.

You are... my favorite, lay you down to sleep, It's all that I can do to stop...

Love...

So blue... so broken, paper doll decays I haven't left you yet.

So cold... subversive, your eyes are full of bleach.

Tomorrow, I will go away again...

Love...

YOU ARE MINE, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MINE!

I CAN TEAR YOU APART

I CAN RECOMBINE YOU

ALL I WANT IS TO COVET YOU ALL

YOU BELONG TO ME

I WILL KILL YOU TO LOVE YOU.

Love...

Letra da autoria de Slipknot/Lyrics by Slipknot