1. |
beginning - and so...
03:39
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And so… we gazed… upon this beautiful landscape
As the son… who was born… from the richest parents
As if, everything is mine and so I have the right to burn everything
Because, nothing is mine, nothing is mine, the nothingness is mine.
When everything should be as simple as laughing out loud.
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2. |
the mirror painter
05:18
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The man who painted seconds in mirrors
Sauntered about with a bold, black sharpie
Wrapped in daylight palettes he envisioned
A perfect mirror pane (as his empty canvas)
“We are all brothers; could you please spare me a dime?”
His plea echoed through the crowded street,
An empty knock to confirm
(There’s no one home!) x2
Forming a, snapshot of life
Each brush blend, with the colors in his eyes
Outlining a, snapshot of life
Each brush blend, with the colors in the skies
Compelled to jot all of it down
He sat and began his hasty compilation
Struggling through their neglected gifts
Of permanent, unlinked words (and instants {never forget the instants!})
That soon faded into their daily schemes
He knew life occurred around and beyond him
And wished to savor every, every moment
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3. |
paradise (lost)
06:31
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A shallow vision of infinity
Denied by inner uncertainty
Windowpane so blue and grey
Erasing my feelings for yesterday
Grim smiles filled with haste
My beautiful flower lost its taste
Fading now doesn’t really matter
Eventually Life will shatter
Soon I learn I’m not in a movie
Everything here looks everything but groovy
Take me home where the sun shines
Take me where l*ve still rhymes
Dandelions hovering above the sea
Bound and enslaved by reality
Dreaming sometimes doesn’t seem to matter
Eventually Life will shatter
Soon I learn I’m not in a movie
Everything here looks everything but groovy
Take me home where the sun does shine
Take me where l*ving is not a crime
Void inside, a place to hide
Where’s my Lost Paradise
Bruise inside, happiness cried
Where’s my Lost Paradise
Whispering inside
As worlds collide
Is this really my lost paradise?
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4. |
five days
05:24
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Five days as a Monday ghost seems too unreal to live Life by as
Hermetic boxes with grey people locked inside, they lost the vibe to live as
“The ones that wait” wavered from across the graven fields it’s said it’s time to
Relapse,
in and out,
Breathing a completely screwed up codex-system,
needing something more, not only to coexist but more, and more…
Branches framed the walls from the narrowed path it’s hard to live by as:
Whispers and moans subdued to the evasion of years forgotten to live Life as
“The ones that wait” wavered from across the graven fields it’s said it’s time to
Five days as a Monday ghost seems too unreal to live Life by as
Hermetic voices of grey people locked inside, they lost their Life to live as
“The ones that wait” wavered from across the graven fields it’s said it’s time to
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5. |
divinity is still here
04:45
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The divinity we had has fallen apart.
From the firstborn breath from the very first start
Fading away to dawn’s antique grey
With most things we were supposed to name
from the whole Universe the æ came to be
a different perspective to a brittle degree
tumbling down (materializing) into a fragile host
whose aura is ever shadowed by a lurking ghost
Now… give us our name
grant us the same birthright we had
since the very night we came to be
Becoming a triad of amnesia bound
the little girls lost were never again found
as sparks that remain struggling in the misty dark
yet to prosper thus attaining their redemptive ark
eons piled overseas through clouds of splendor
earthly enclosed to a (in?)harmonious surrender
funny how its energy derives through our within
what we always thought to have started is yet to begin
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... and the Sandsteps Porto, Portugal
Multi-instrumentalist Joel Nachio is a Portuguese singer-songwriter and fronts an alternative musical project which is highly abrasive and experimental in which he composes, records, produces, and plays/programs pretty much all instruments and where musician friends collaborate. Everything is about sharing and sharing is pretty much it. ... more
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