Hilltop

Nighthawks

NIGHTHAWKS When the boreal colours of Eden's horizon got long overdue, I ate my eyes raw so I could digest that Tiffany blue Our spaceship is cyan and white Milky Way, in a Bowie’s way High stellar overdrive Lift off tonight Our spaceship is cyan and white Milky Way, in a Bowie’s way High stellar overdrive Lift off tonight There’s a black hole in everything’s heart, That’s how the light goes out to dark And if it’s darker long before the dawn It will get darker and darker forevermore I’d rather see the rigs of Saturn in your eyes than the sun that never sets in the land of the cool Stardust teleport the kids from school On my Chevy Malibu I am playing on an oddity Digging into you, no longer blue Our spaceship is cyan and white Milky Way, in a Bowie’s way High stellar overdrive Lift off tonight Our spaceship is cyan and white Milky Way, in a Bowie’s way High stellar overdrive Lift off tonight

Hilltop

HILLTOP You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… And it grinds my gears how in the middle of the night that sleep paralysis wraps itself around me… Around me… That sleep paralysis Sleep paralysis Sleep paralysis Sleep paralysis Sleep paralysis Sleep paralysis You’re just a cog 24/7, lost in dreams about the westward You’re just a cog 24/7, lost in dreams about the westward You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge boulder which falls all the way down, then you start to roll it again just so… You reach the top of the hill You reach the top of the hill You reach the top of the hill, lost in dreams about the westward

Westward

WESTWARD It was more than a season But I just cannot tell Cause I’ve got lack of eloquence And all the words are on the run I glimpsed what thousand oceans Of countless verbs have not become Maybe I’ve made up my mind Flying away can’t hold a candle to Waking feeling the ground, touching the pastures of green Avoiding all of the scheme Of this crazy machine I’m just in doubt moving forward Is there still a light to the westward? Is there still a light to the westward?

Lemonade Acid

LEMONADE ACID There’s a black hole in everything’s heart, that’s how the light goes out to dark Dominion is set upon every mind The maze has no easy way out to find If all times lead to a bowsprit quest That’s how subtle the quarrel test You reach the top of the hill rolling a huge bolder Which falls all the way down then you start to rolling it again Maybe I’ve made up my mind Where’s the exit door? Why is it the floor keeps stretching? Do I overthink a lot because my mind is like a corridor in which every exit door ends up on a new corridor? Like walking an endless alley at 3 am in a lucid dream? How far does this tunnel extends? Am I too messy and I don’t get along with people because they don’t look at things the way I do Or was I just born unsympathetically nonchalant? What if you actually never was born? What if you’re a steam of consciousness from a distant intelligence from another dimension? Isn’t it convenient that none of us remember being born? If we live in a simulation, why does the programmer allow us to question the programming And be aware that we are just a bunch of zeros and ones? If God was created by Adam, who made Adam? And who’s the who from whom he comes from and so on and on and on? How lucid is the dream? How long have we’ve been asleep? Is there a way out? In the journey to find the ultimate answers that would solve all things in existence, I’ve been told that a wise old man who lives at the top of a mountain, In a heath near a cliff, had what I was looking for Eventually, I got there, knocked at his door, his name is Heathcliff, I said I was there for the answers and he said he already knew it And as I leaned to hear it better from his whispering peaceful voice My sight got stuck at a scene I glimpsed over his shoulder, Of thousands of skeletons and dead bodies lying down there, Swaying mechanically in the sea Whilst foaming waves pushed them against the rocks at the corner of the mountain I asked and he told me that that was just inevitable As by the moment one listens the great and undisputed truth of it all About the meaning of life and so on “The acknowledgment of the informations I give Hit the nervous system like a parasite that grows in seconds And by reaching its peak the reaction of jumping off the cliff is inescapable” So “Yes”, he explained, “You’ll have the whole knowledge ever desirable And will know everything, but mind you that it will last half a minute Before you’re gone for good” So now, he leaned towards me And proceeded to begin telling me the answers I was searching for so long My mind stretched tons with the information, just like he said I gazed for long years into the abyss, the abyss also gazed into me I jumped and as I drowned the last beat of pulse in me left the body I was gone Then, I heard a siren ethereal voice singing over the waters And I immediately started to float back to the surface I was back Heathcliff told me “that never happened before” It's been a long journey from nowhere to nowhere, nothing to nothing It al ends with you lying in your bed The lamp across the room illuminates your empty gaze in the half light You drink and know the dream has dreamt itself Tomorrow’s bells will toll, you’ll run more fast Perhaps, it was never just lemonade Maybe you only remember it that way But you can’t tell if its the acid that was programmed to taste like sugar and now tastes like acid Or if its the sugar that was programmed to taste like sugar and now tastes like acid Sugar or acid, all is one You swallow the last drop, and finally let go: It was never lemonade, it was always lemonade

Acid Lemonade

Acid Lemonade It all starts with you lying in your bed The lamp across the room illuminates your empty gaze, in the half-light. You’re drinking while wishing the lemonade had sulphuric acid in it It’s been a long journey, from nothing to nothing, nowhere to nowhere Suddenly, you just don't care anymore because you figured out the relevance of our existence: It doesn't exist You pretend you're playing the game “How are you doing? “I’m fine”, which is just one of the answers that the system programs all the brainwashed puppets to say from the uterus and hides that you gave up looking for the true answers Your days are vanishing in the acquaintance with the concept that the origin of everything was a calculated accident Which inspires the consequent understanding that there is some sort of prearrangement about the planet whirling silently in space And then comes the routine of boredom wrapped in the repetition of meaningless activities with no inherent purpose You’re chained to the formula, attached to the machine Gradually the things that made you get out of bed every day, are vaporised into thousands of particles of disinterest and the goals you believed in are now all pointless If you eat the food it has no taste, whether you breathe it or not it makes no difference, whether you are praised or scolded it makes no difference. Tears in the rain At some point, you want to sleep for decades and, guess what, it ends up happening. Then you wake up only to discover that you're in a dream within a dream, within a dream… within a dream… Reality is a fiction… simulation It was all inside us, liquid days that slipped through our fingers They leak in kindergarten, they leak in traffic, they leak in the lack of talks at the dinner table Then there's that age when flashes pop through your mind, random images of pathetic moments Everything you've done, big or small, will dissolve in time No one reaps what they’ve sown, time is the real reaper and that’s why in the end you’ll end up in the beginning, back to the void you came from The lamp burns out You’re sunk in bed no longer in half-light You’re engulfed by darkness, from within and outside And at the end of each thought you stretch your arms trying to reach that light that your subconscious tells you that is at the end of the tunnel But there is no light at the end of the tunnel because… What if this tunnel is Ton 618?