Age of Silence
Album • 2004
This is the auditorium of modern movements A breeding ground for light speed profit thinking Where a biting shine exposes the possibilities of the flesh And the direction of the green flow This is the city of Soma - an idea brought to life And carefully designed by George Reed Founding member of Modern Architects Deluxe - "Constructing a new world for speed, efficiency and streamlined income" So you're climbing upwards through structures of metal and glass Subconsciously trying to reach the roof, but somehow there's always one more floor It's a strange mixture of soft thinking and hard work Or was it the other way around? The ground for comparison was trampled a long time ago, so no one really knows anymore Amidst this aimless craving for matter
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025
Accelerating darkness Designer light Iron constructions, concrete and wood Flaring light echoing consumer minds Mountains are only future sand Forests are only unreleased heat Darkened glasses kill dirty rays Handbags weighed down with asphalt dust Thought process standardized Philosophy a set of guidelines for inefficiency Religion a fluffy cushion of synthetic feathers Life itself a mechanical movement from A to B C is always a thought but never an option
Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025
The cycle of life speeds up like a rabid biker Getting narrower for every turn Its silver tail not as shiny as once it was The width only paper thin Acceleration beyond light and darkness Welcome to the modern museum of life A strobe-like feeling of universal consequence The rate of change of velocity Merely a tool to make us see That no one can stand as still In such a speed as we always will Warm relations turn down the heat Dust is everywhere, all mouths are dry This is my nest - I'll defend it with my life Cosmological consequences of not relating Connections cut, no restrictions necessary Yesterday, today, tomorrow
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025
They sent me an invoice - "P&S to be returned to D. Incorporated within the date of..." So I gave them a call. An angry one 9-113-451208 I said: "Why are you invoicing me?" I heard whispers and slow breathing "I never made a purchase from you, so stop bothering me" The whispering stopped. The sound of hot air sustained "I demand an explanation" All went silent, and the phone seemed to get heavier A deep voice in the other end of the line: They sent me an invoice - "P&S to be returned to D. Incorporated within the date of..." So I gave them a call. An angry one 9-113-451208 "It's not yours, you lease it It's not yours, you lease it" "Please be kind and return it to us Within the date stated on the invoice, Or we will have to come and claim it by force" "It's not yours, you lease it It's not yours, you lease it"
Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 26, 2025
I found it hidden in the very core of the city The building didn't do it justice, but then again no building would The office door ajar and the letters D.I. on everything It was empty when I arrived but the thick, damp air told me That someone had been there only minutes ago The room was painted in different shades of green All matching the color of the flow And the interior, spartan as it was, seemed to Underline the fact that this company was all about Control, direction and blatant satisfaction I saw invoices everywhere, and a thick mahogany table Covered with yellowed pieces of paper - they were lists, and it finally occurred to me - this was an administrative center for the P&S of our modern world "Such a fetid web of pretense"! The words traveled slowly, and were absorbed by the thick walls It lay in the bottom of an old ashtray Yellow and worn as the others, but somehow different Two dates - one I knew and one I didn't Both were passed, the second one very recently I lifted the paper, folded it and slid it into my back pocket Then I left Fundamental change - turn the direction of the breeze by force, crank it up to a storm Of the breeze by force, crank it up to a storm
Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025
Colored flashes never burned my eyes The way the dirty sun does On my way from the office Through streets of bleached light It came to me that what I had to do was To find the main flow and obstruct it It came to me that what I had to do was To find the main flow and obstruct it So I went to the cathedral Nick-A was at the turntables as always As always the fans were already dancing like madmen So I went to the cathedral Nick-A was at the turntables as always The fans were already dancing like madmen To the pulsating beat It had a cashier-like quality A soundtrack working in verdant direction Mr. A kept chasing the flow with an ever-increasing BPM As the audience exchanged movements - bargaining for moves and grooves Until power restrictions were enforced And the BPM sunk like a stone Colored flashes never burned my eyes The way the dirty sun does On my way from the office Through streets of bleached light It came to me that what I had to do was To find the main flow and obstruct it It came to me that what I had to do was To find the main flow and obstruct it So I went to the cathedral Nick-A was at the turntables The dancers were left in despair - discontented It was rumored that some of them chose the red exit
Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025
Found the core to stop the flow No obstruction, green pierces everything I have been washed Now the errors and faults are a blur See the glass under my feet and the reflection above It has all come to this: My view to the left and to the right has been lost Something is blocking it To help me focus on what is important For it and for them I have been eaten by dirty blocks of concrete And concept-paper But in the end, as I was sliding brutally through the system The whole feeling of being digested turned out to be nothing more Than the feather-soft caresses of a juggernaut world "P&S to be returned to..." I guess it's all set So it has come to this Measuring the distance Between this world and mine
Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025
It has been done! The return is completed! Now to grow fainter To be buried in soft shades of jade I used to like the rainfalls - to feel tender bites Of gray city water on my white, clean face Pure from the start - dirty to the end Drawing diagonal marks - shutting me into a private prison with bars of water on skin The smell of wet asphalt always softened up a hard, hard world 90° angles, shiny surfaces covered in dirt And worn out streets leading from nothing to nothing Who puts me here anyway? Did I ever take the time to find out? Did they ever bother to ask? Was it even an option? It's been returned I wonder if the dirt has forced its way through my skin by now Feels like it's there - itching from the inside, weakening my flesh I need a sunblock or a dirtblock - something to protect me Nothing's ever gonna be the same again I'm on the wrong... surface Nothing's ever gonna be the same again Nothing's ever gonna be the same again Open up the shell, wash away the façade Let me out, let me in Open up the shell, wash away the façade Let me out, let me in Please just let me Please just let me Please just let me Please just let me
Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025
I no longer know if I am mad Or if I'm feigning it to cover my own mediocrity I sometimes feel like a fell wizened necromancer Laboring at his pleasure Performing his liturgy as one long consumed by ashes Factory fumes nourishing the dreams of the cosmopolite Affectionate longing for white coats, auditoriums and blackboard dust Spiraling walkways, webs of concrete, bricks and mirrored glass I no longer know if I have experienced passion/love/despair/hate Was it only socially induced behavior? Like long forgotten twisted poetry Gleaned from moldy parchment Pain is always more real than bliss It's greater in supply It's the warm familiar womb in which your mind can hide As you open doors and portals Walk the paved paths to offerings Foiled predetermined neurological patterns Like paper boats bound for the drains You speak the incantations written on gray mortar walls Syllables tasting like blood in your mouth You know absolution You know mortality Reality slowly peeled layer by layer Outwards to the fringe where upon the altar of forgotten deities The combustion of the self still vibrates Dark flowers thrusting their thorns up Reaching where manifestations of the skies labor to fill the vacuum You seek to explain the universe with numbers Itch to fill in the final answer underlined twice Like an infant you step into the first light at dawn It's bright and bitter and sharp
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025
Somehow still here Under the surface Beyond the invoices and D. Incorporated Outside the system I have never seen past the paper fortifications So I have my doubts But still, that nagging prospect Of all this being fabricated False Calculated Consumes me in all its green splendor But it doesn't touch Alluring and tempting, the shine and the flow Runs straight through me Now not even sensing my presence But I can see it, I can see it if I close my eyes I can break through the paper shine And reach the core, the true core Jade Emerald Never defeated and never will be But exposed for everyone to see How can it still accelerate When the fuel is gone?
Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025
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