I couldn’t tell you all the weird I’ve seen
Out on the edge of your broken dream,
A mystic place of riches unforeseen,
A fabled land of magic where a beast is bred.

Out of a damp and darkened region,
This creature came to be.
Trespassing the gold plated religion,
This demon was set free.

It rose out of a crescent moon,
With an empty smile and an eerie gloom;
Parading a thousand different faces
The lord of deception now rules the holy’s palace.

With oil money pouring on the dying soil
And with blind pilgrimage being done,
On every small part of this biosphere;
Prophets chanting… the end is near.

I couldn’t tell you all the wrong I’ve seen,
Out on the edge of your rotten dream,
A cult of inaction and acceptance,
Of liberty being raped by blind supremacy.

It’s 8.10 :P.M. in Megapolis,
A place of static pleasure and hollow bliss,
A genuine temple of the unholy
Saturated with thousands of soulless zombies

But there’s some sort of unprecedented feeling
Creeping all over the city streets,
A scent of freedom and of a coming hatching:
The once chain-bound undeads are breaking free.

I couldn’t tell you all the shit I’ve seen
Out on the edge of your fucking dream,
A filthy plague of madness you just wouldn’t believe,
A mega-masquerade I crave for you to see.

It happened for a long time
And it still goes on today.
An inquisitive genocide,
The colonial way.

I’ve seen my brother’s rights
Being raped, all over history;
Ever since the early conquest
Of the Thinnithian empire
To the dreaded world war three.

Ceylan, Korea,
Vietnam, India, Cambodia.
Since Muhammad’s pilgrimage
‘Til Victorians Britannia,
Since the violent rape of the Indian soil
Which gave birth to LAMERICA.

You just can’t believe it’s true
If it hasn’t happened to you;
The lingering trauma of World war two:
Berlin, _Prague and Paris too.

Beirut, Havana,
Baghdad, Hanoi, Hiroshima.

I have a song to write,
And I have nothing to tell,
So would you please be kind
And help me part this hell.

There’s a whole blank page
Lying in front of me
And I’ve got this contract signed,
So please inspire me.

Can’t talk of women, can’t talk of guns,
Can’t talk about nothing, it’s all been done.
I haven’t got nothing more to say,
So I’ll just repeat this till I fade away.

Let me introduce you to myself:
A nightly superhero,
A urban troubadour,
A reckless rock ’n roll renegade,
A mystery death doctor from outer space.
I’m a delirious demigod,
An alien alchemist,
I wear real strange adornment,
I’m true, I’m proud, I never end.

I dwell in a flying laboratory
High above the clouds.
I do wrong, I do right,
Loving everyone in sight.

I plot against the system,
I manufacture the weird,
Energized by bizarre mystic brews.

While you people live your lives
In simple shades of grey,
I promote multi-colorism
And I think its fine that way.

I wear a pretty pink tie,
And I think its swell;
I plead for polarity,
Watch me right this hell.

I’ll best you in every category,
Befriend your old grandma;
I’ll drive a car around
And crush your dog with it.

I’m your worst nightmare,
I think you’re bleeding dull.
I’m a groovy faery tale,
A psychotropic rush.

Spirits are my buddies,
I’m a cultural pioneer:
The anti political trooper,
Just watch me kick them out of here.

I’m just like Genghis Khan,
Jesus, Hitler, Buddha;
I’ll suck unto your nipple
And then ill clench your teeth.

I’m just a gentle genocide,
Evolutions new trick;
Just watch me dance my way around,
I know you’ll get your kicks.

I’m a funky freedom fighter
And I’m so cool:
Preacher, crook or space cadet,
Just a pathetic fool.

There’s an unholy story that I want to tell,
About this Guy who had his soul to sell;
All he wanted was his name in history
But now, he’s gotten into some dirty story.

He had all the help he needed,
Working on this giant he breeded:
An armoured shell and steel cold padding,
A crushing grin and hell spawned fighting.

Then the tale It turned to sour
As the stubborn gray men we endorsed with power,
Turned their backs on he of whom they’ve fancied,
The superman pinpointing at their own inefficiency.

Now if the point of my story
Hasn’t made itself clear,
I’ll repeat it in words
That are for all to hear:

The cause of your demise
Is your own lies and fears,
Now go on trying to make
The villain disappear.

Come away with me to the land of the faeries,
Away from the grim of your stinky cities.
Come to a place where there’s nowhere to go,
Where the beauty and the wonder is all they know.

Come away with me
To the land of the faeries.

Follow me to a place you will call home,
It is full of people, you will never be alone.
It’s a place of perpetual ecstasy
And I have got a ticket for you, come with me.

Come away with me
To the land of the faeries.

Forget the walls and barriers you were taught,
We’re heading for the land of the free,
And all those useless things you’ve bought,
Don’t bother taking them, follow me.

Come away with me
To the land of the fairies

It’s a place unlike any other,
It exist just for you my brothers.
Lalaland isn’t so far away,
You’ll get there, just do it your own way.

I am the Assassin,
Words like stainless lethal bites.
I am the Assassin,
Poetry pierces your hide.
I am the Assassin,
Innocence hollow vengeance,
The call of the wild.
I am the Assassin,
And tonight you’re gonna die.

Power play, dancing prays,
Chant the coming of a final day
Words of oblivion, child or rain,
The tragedy of a love so vain.

I hear them all talking
About a universal light,
And all I see them doing is
Fight, fight, fight.

Closing shadows, fortune, fame:
Bizarre theatre of pain.
Cheating leaders outdated
And this humanity, sedated.

They keep telling that they’re craving
For a celestial fate,
Yet all I see them doing
Is wait and wait and wait.

Play with power dancing pray,
Greet the coming of a brand new day.
Words of hope, in the land of pain:
The love of a tragedy so vain.

Every single day’s the same to me,
Said the weatherman quite modestly,
Precisely smiling for his salary:
Actor in the mega-symphony.

Beware: the angry weatherman’s vendetta.
Beware: his dreadful schizophrenia.

Roaming his allowed periphery,
Day by day clockwork motricity,
Sealed inside his airtight family,
Accepting his situation quietly.

Beware: the angry weatherman’s vendetta
Beware: his suicidal paranoia.

I just can’t stand the atrocities,
Said the weatherman despairingly.
Pain, anger, sadness and misery;
Oblivion is all that I can see.

Beware: the angry weatherman’s vendetta.
Beware: his ballistic dementia.

Shocked by all the horror that he sees,
Traumatized by this cacophony,
Takes a violent step, out of normality,
Just a little break from his daily sanity.

Once, long ago, I had a dream:
Of future-fold rainbows and city of gold;
But now darkened with visions of fire it seems,
The prosperous king is getting old.

The once devoted children of his breed
Were getting apart in the land of the weird;
Each blurred away by their own passions,
Toward this beast of dissipation.

Now in the midst of an age old blazing battle
With this ancient monument about to fall;
Enthralled by this long foretold demon,
The guardian knights will miss it all.