1. |
Do To You
02:45
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Do you know that feeling when somebody’s telling you to let it go?
You’re hurting, you know it, but they are begging not to show.
What does that do to you, do to your self-esteem?
It wastes away, it wastes away within.
Have you noticed that barely anyone ever listens?
When you finally shed your shell and overcome your fear?
What does that do to you, do to you, do to your candor?
It wastes away, it wastes away within.
Then you meet someone who’s openly treading water.
Can you find the compassion to let ‘em know it’s gonna be okay?
When you were never given the comfort.
You were never given the benefit of doubt.
Never ever treated so kindly, you were never heard, never allowed.
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
It’s up to you to change the course within.
It’s up to you to change the course within.
You’re gonna fight the way they summoned you to be,
gonna reframe the words that you’ve never believed it
and they’re gonna try and get away, get away, get away.
You don’t care, you don’t need them here.
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor?
What does that do you, do to you, do to your rigor, rigor, rigor?
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2. |
Pendulum
04:15
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Some folks walk on broken glass.
Yes and
Some folks tread on bread crumbs.
Yes and
Yes and
Yes and
There are some
Who run for so long
Till the pain is gone
And their should grow numb.
Yes and
We tread on
We run for so long
Till the crumbs are gone
There's no way back home
Yes and...
There are some
Who run for so long
Till the pain is gone
And their should grow numb.
Yes and
Yes and
Yes and
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3. |
Climb Into My Brain
04:49
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If you could only climb into my brain,
surely oh’s and ah’s would leave your lips.
If you took a walk and looked around,
surely, you would get me.
Welcome to my mess,
I use my trash to guide me through the day.
Paper piles, 32 tabs and memories in tiny boxes.
If you climbed into my brain,
could you make sense of what you'd find?
Let me leaf through, dog-ear a page or two,
scratch notes in the margin.
Highlight, underline, annotate,
Place footnotes for between the lines.
Let me clean up in here.
Now, if you could only climb into my brain.
But here we are and solid bones and skin won’t let you in.
What oh's and ah's leave my lips,
as I start to understand.
I have rendered myself,
to myself, an open book: Now ready to be shared.
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4. |
Traum
03:42
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poem by Hannah Arendt
Schwebende Füße in pathetischem Glanze
Ich selbst, auch ich tanze
Ich selbst, auch ich tanze
Befreit von der Leere
Ins Dunkle, ins Schwere
Gedrängte Räume vergangener Zeiten
Durchschrittene Weiten
Verlor'ne Einsamkeiten
Beginne zu tanzen
Ich selbst, auch ich tanze ironisch vermessen
Ich hab' nichts vergessen
Ich kenne die Leere
Ich kenne die Schwere
Ich tanze, ich tanze
In ironischem Glanze
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5. |
Nach Grauen Tagen
03:03
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poem by Ingeborg Bachmann (with small changes)
Eine einzige Stunde frei sein!
Frei und fern!
Wie Nachtlieder in den Sphären.
Und hoch fliegen über den Tagen
möchte ich
und das Vergessen suchen---
über das dunkle Wasser gehen
nach weißen Rosen,
meiner Seele Flügel geben
nichts wissen mehr
von der Bitterkeit langer Nächte,
und die Augen groß werden
vor namenloser Not.
Tränen liegen auf meinen Wangen
aus den Nächten des Irrsinns,
des Wahnes schöner Hoffnung,
dem Wunsch, Ketten zu brechen
und Licht zu trinken---
Eine einzige Stunde Licht schauen!
Frei sein - frei sein!
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6. |
Auf Einmal
05:05
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Auf einmal fehlen sie dir
Die touches, die hugs
Sie fehlt dir, mächtig -
Die Liebe, die love.
So schnell kann's geh'n
Alles anders, eh wir uns verseh'n.
Und klar war's doch.
Auf einmal fehlt es dir
Das, was dir genommen.
Hattest so viel vor
Hast doch gerade erst begonnen
Es fehlt dir mächtig
Hast doch gerade erst begriffen, wie wichtig
Kannst nichts hören, kannst nichts sehen
Kannst nicht atmen, nicht rausgehen.
I can't breathe, they don't care, they love it -
How dare you
Auf einmal fehlen sie dir
Die touches, die hugs
Sie fehlt dir, mächtig -
Die Liebe, die love.
So schnell kann's geh'n
Alles anders, eh wir uns verseh'n.
Und klar war's doch.
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7. |
Cycling
03:13
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A wheel, 26'' inches in diameter, carves its way forward; its spokes like 28 spindly legs taking the most audacious little steps; its tyre taut in determination to bear the brunt of the earth, each shard of glass threatening to snag its skin; it casts a cloud of dust and muck in its wake, as it ploughs through unforgiving terrain, through the obstacles laid in its way. Every 360° sees new ground.
Not everybody likes women riding bikes, breaking the law, handing out food, spreading the word.
A chain of 114 links feeds the teeth of the wheel it propels; regenerating on a never-ending loop, it fuels forward motion; muttering under the strain of its exertion, it metabolises tirelessly; it cannot stop.
A pedal with the weight of change behind it grinds the chain into action, which in turn, turns the wheel. It groans, it wheezes, it works. This most crucial of strengths, most vital sustenance, is what drives momentum; the first of three revolutions.
Not everybody likes women riding bikes, breaking the law, handing out food, spreading the word.
It takes one push of a pedal to turn a paradigm on its axis.
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