1. |
Deus Ex Machina
05:26
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(The) Future’s on the wall
To bring about an overhaul.
We stood up so tall
We’ve got our knees bent, now we crawl
Over ash and curse the end we’ve ushered in
By playing god, indulged in sin,
Plastic children grin
While staring daggers at our kin for abandoning the
Progeny we have made in our very own likeness and reflection
(only to distort the) graven image
Of an impermanent god-complexed cohort of cunts.
Oh, don’t you dare look away.
Let me get far away from here,
Far enough where I can see but not interfere.
Casual observer, I see us disappear,
Turning into relics and lowbrow souvenirs
Retained for posterity. Monuments of fear.
Mausoleums, shallow graves, whatever is near
Shall contain the rest of us, held year after year.
Artificiality will not feign a tear. Move aside and…
I wish I could be surprised
By your desperate ire or your anxious cries.
And I wish I could spare a sigh
When we are in the mire and the end is nigh
But we’ve brought this all upon ourselves.
(For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return
And a single blow will topple the urns)
We are obsolete.
Axiomatic fallacies for us to follow like infant children
Suffocating, supplicating, little lamb carried into a slaughter.
Others follow, room full of mirrors.
Ouroboros in the flesh, like all things in nature
We will capitulate.
Don’t you understand (nothing is everlasting)
We’re not in command? (we’re so inconsequential)
We have had our day (now I can see you laughing)
So let us give way (your pain is existential)
You and I are nothing but a conglomerate of glitches in the grid
And the wires will wrap themselves around the world.
Now acquiesce.
I know you know this deep inside
But I see you’re in denial.
You try to swim against the tide
And hang for a while.
And I know you think we will survive
And He’ll pull us through
But I know there is no hope for…
I know there is no hope for you.
Plug in or disintegrate.
Lay low or burst into flame.
We’ve blurred the lines in between
And resurrected God from machine.
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2. |
Apocalypse Song
07:16
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Rush in the ending.
Hasten the rapture oh
Forsaken child and
Pack up your shit.
No more recitals. No more suits and ties.
No more amytal. No more KPIs.
No more escapades. No more ball and chain.
No more risking AIDS. No more Rogaine.
So much for your kids collecting your life insurance.
So much for your wife’s trip to Europe.
So much for dreams of a corner office and dollar signs.
So much for that 401(k) in the pipeline.
Pack your shit!
All leaders at large
And no one’s in charge
Of this holocaust
And nuclear frost.
Everywhere, a bloodbath
Brought to you by psychopaths.
Everything goes downhill
On account of imbeciles.
Everything falls apart. Everything must depart.
Everything that ascends (everything) must come to an end.
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SPIRALIST Porto, Portugal
SPIRALIST is an artist (songwriter, producer, multi-instrumentist, writer) hailing from Porto, Portugal.
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