Aborym

Psychogrotesque tracks

Lyrics


1. I

(Instrumental)




2. II

They said I was schizophrenic
Rebellion to a steady order
The mass kills empty containers
The mass smashes heads full of air
Those who try to escape from the gears of mediocrity
Neurotics, they call them
Those who want to be
Haldol interferes with the complex
Biomechanical activity of my nerve cells
Devastating effects: no joy, no joy, no colour, no feeling
My body doesn't react, my soul refuses to talk with me
Trapped in a shroud, my refuses justified the diagnosis
I swallowed Luvatran and I vomited my life
My psychosis was developing, they were making me mad
I was feeling disgusting: hatred for myself
Spontaneous explosions of violence, uncontrollable
Regurgitation of suffering
Remembrance of humiliations and blood
They sewed on me a heavy strait-jacket
Attraction-repulsion, obsession
Hatred for myself - self-mutilation
Me, horrible insect, brand of infamy
Banned from the mankind community
Is this my punishment? For what?




3. III

Total isolation
Rooms all the same
Empty glasses, puke and stains of blood
And the marks of scratches against silent walls
And I can still hear the screams of psychos
And I can still feel the blows
And the stink of medicines
And the screams of silence of endless nights
That neverending darkness
And that blinding white of the walls
Dozen and dozen of beings
Drag themselves with no sense
There are no mirrors
Nobody owns anything
It's like time has forgot to flow
Time with no meaning.

I heard those voices inside me: you must die, slowly, Slowly, where were them?
I could feel them coming to my brain
Mysterious nothing, multiproblematic reign
I couldn't contrast them
I tried to run, madly, even by night
I couldn't suffocate them
Those voices were leaking in me
Until they took every single corner of my mind
Until they became so deafening to feel the urge
Of screaming to shut them
The descent to this hell interspersed with attempts of Escape.
Of degradation and violence
Long years of horror - the horror of solitude: abandon
And I banged with my fists to the walls
With hundredfold strength
In here men don't praise the evil
But they buy the good that they find inside of it
In here are swallowed fluorescent poisons and asbestos Pills.




4. IV

Sono sporco. I pidocchi mi rodono. I porci, quando mi Guardano vomitano.
Le croste delle labbra hanno squamato la mia pelle, coperta Di un pus giallastro.
Non conosco l'acqua dei fiumi né la rugiada delle nubi.
I miei piedi hanno messo radici nel suolo e compongono, Fino al ventre,
Una sorta di vegetazione viva, piena di ignobili parassiti
Che non è più carne e non deriva ancora dalla pianta. Eppure il mio cuore batte.
Ma come potrebbe battere se la putredine e le esalazioni
Del mio cadavere non lo nutrissero in abbondanza?
Sotto l'ascella sinistra si è stabilita una famiglia di Rospi
E quando uno di essi si muove mi fa il solletico
State attenti che non ne scappi uno e non venga a grattarvi Con la bocca
L'interno dell'orecchio: poi, sarebbe capace di entrarvi Nel cervello
Sotto l'ascella destra c'è un camaleonte che dà loro una Caccia perpetua
Per non morire di fame: ognuno deve vivere
Ma quando un partito sventa completamente le astuzie Dell'altro
Non trovano di meglio da fare che lasciarsi in pace a Vicenda
E succhiano il grasso delicato che mi ricopre le costole: Ci sono abituato
Una vipera malvagia ha divorato la mia verga e ne ha preso Il posto
Due piccoli istrici, che non crescono più, hanno gettato a Un cane,
Che non ha rifiutato l'interno dei miei testicoli:
E si sono sistemati all'interno dell'epidermide, lavata con Cura.
L'ano è stato intercettato da un granchio; incoraggiato Dalla mia inerzia,
Con le sue chele fa la guardia all'ingresso, e mi fa molto Male!
Non parlate della mia colonna vertebrale, perché è una spada
Desiderate sapere, non è vero, come mai sia piantata Verticalmente nelle mie reni?
Neppure io lo ricordo molto chiaramente.
Tuttavia, se mi decido a considerare un ricordo ciò che Forse non è altro che un sogno
Sappiate che l'uomo, quando ha saputo che avevo fatto voto Di vivere con la malattia.
Finché non avessi vinto il Creatore, camminò, dietro di me, In punta di piedi,
Ma non così piano da non essere udito
Non percepii più niente, per un istante che non fu lungo.
Questo pugnale acuminato penetrò fino all'impugnatura tra Le due spalle del toro delle feste
E la sua ossatura fremette come un terremoto. La lama Aderisce con tale forza al corpo
Che nessuno finora è riuscito ad estrarla: gli atleti, i Meccanici, i filosofi, i medici.
Hanno tentato, volta a volta, i mezzi più diversi
Non sapevano che il male che l'uomo ha fatto non può essere Disfatto.
Viandante, quando mi passerai accanto, non rivolgermi, te Me supplico.
La minima parola di consolazione: indeboliresti il mio Coraggio.
Lascia che io riscaldi la mia tenacia alla fiamma del Martirio volontario vattene
Posso ancora fare un' escursione fino alle muraglie del Cielo.
Alla testa di una legione di assassini
Etornare ad assumere quest'atteggiamento per meditare, di Nuovo.
Sui nobili progetti della vendetta.




5. V

If I could breathe the hate I found in humanity
I would be suffocated by its virulent fogs
If I could live in my way - no mercenaries
I would count on the pain, the only thing I own
I am a man... I am without a leg
If I look down I realize that I don't even have the other One.
I am a legless man and I don't have my left arm
I don't have the right one either and I have no spinal Column.
I have no hands... I don't have eyes...I don't have hair
There's a lack of nose and ears in my face, I can't see Anything of me: I am a black fly
I am misery: I am nothing: you made me a “non-man” dear Doctor world
And if I transgress against your catechism I hope many will Follow me!
If I exist I am no one else: I don't acknowledge in me this Equivocal pluralism
My subjectivity and the Creator it's way too much for just A brain.
This place in where huge instinctive pulsions are lost: Here there is the Final Apocalypse.




6. VI

Not a sacred place! This place is cursed by God for sure!
See them try to kill the pain, blackness fills the mind, Decayed
Swarming stigma attaches, insane
Yesterday, truth despaired, my life, stolen easily
Trenched again, unfathomed thoughts, my grave deeply
Stone grown, growing in squares, light shines me through
Blindly finding, doubting, death's riddles, so true.

Going to the asylum to learn how to die.
See them try to kill the pain, blackness fills the mind, Decayed
Swarming stigma attaches, insane
Yesterday, truth despaired, my life, stolen easily
Trenched again, unfathomed thoughts, my grave deeply.

I fly towards other rooms
They all look the same
But every single one of them is different
By the imprints they project in this astral space
They have different voices and different stories
Different screams, different microcosmos
They all reveal the echoes of men who've all lost their Way, yet remain.
Their vibrations tell us: some of them went away, some of Them are dead.




7. VII

Every single thing is static
In my nightmares iron skeletons want to touch me
Huddled up in a corner I hear just my mourn of a man
That step by step turns into a kid's mourn, that step by Step turns into a baby's mourn
That step by step turns into a fly's buzz, what am I now?

His smell gives me nausea and it's impressed in my mind
In between the dream and the refuse of what dawn will bring
Wrong! and I did it again! Sacrifice! In the name of Corruption.
Wrong! and I did it again! Psychogrotesque fairytale
Wrong! and I did it again! Sacrifice! For all the puppets Hanged down their lies
Wrong! and I did it again! Atavistic daily disgrace
Humanity, perpetual carnality, insanity, perpetual Carnality.
Wrong! and I did it again! Sacrifice! In the name of Madness and free-doom
Wrong! and I did it again! Psychogrotesque fairytale
Wrong! and I did it again! Sacrifice! Spiritual harlotry
Wrong! and I did it again! Lobotomized neurotic youth.




8. VIII

My back is up against the wall everywhere lobotomized fall
The sadistic power game they play dirty methods they will Put in my way.
A cultured abominable instinct of suicide
Injected in my dried veins: no hope to survive.

Sick synthetic conspiracy: a state of siege
Loaded as I am of the scorn for despicable hearts, i'm a Nest in flames.

My back is up against the wall everywhere lobotomized fall
The sadistic power game they play dirty methods they will Put in my way.
A cultured abominable instinct of suicide
Injected in my dried veins: no hope to survive.




9. IX

(Instrumental)




10. X

Death to the lifeless, befall the death of their line
Consumed with absurdity, it will all be taken within time
Created to be desolate, a new way of life begins anew
Distorted daylight, its darkness will reach the few
Combined catastrophe, the mindless soul dead
Born in the grave, a wretched life force-fed
Ex-sanguinary empowerment, now gains the insane
Usurping the chosen, destruction will now reign
We are all delusions in the eyes of God.

I am a perfect mask of pain
The violence of the poison twists my limbs
It deforms me, it knocks me over, look how the fire rises Again!
They can't hear me, they're ghosts
Don't come nearer, I smell like burnt
Climb toward the final burst
I'm loosing hope, I wish for death
I am drowning in an amniotic liquid
A neverending whirlpool is dragging me down
My wings are melting and merging with plastic
I'm a nest in flames: I am burning.

He sits down with holy fears and waters the ground with Tears.
Then humility takes its root underneath his foot
Soon spreads the dismal shade of mystery over his head
And the caterpillar and the fly feed on the mystery
And it bears the fruit of deceit ruddy and sweet to eat
and the raven his nest has made in its thickest shade
The Gods of the earth and sea sought through nature to find This tree.
But their search was all in vain there grows one in the Human brain.