1. |
M.N.M.T.H
06:08
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Go to the beginning,
they're all placeholders.
Random seems meaningful sometimes.
Good, I see the sane one here isn't me.
It's probably temporary psychosis;
mundane and confusion is too thick to see through
to see the synchronicities,
so I just keep going on ignorantly.
Till the moment that you see
nothing but signs everywhere.
Random is compact meaning.
The message is understood,
the doorway is found...
Falling down the crystal lava tunnel,
fire erodes the flesh and bone.
Travelling in a billion pieces,
into the texture of fate.
Time is of essence.
Here, prepare.
We shall have all the time we require,
all the time.
Time is of essence, prepare.
We have all the time we require.
Ever-continuation could never be divided.
The essence of thought was gone
back to zero ground.
Inquiring,
analyzing,
judging...
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2. |
L.M.R
03:47
|
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I have no idea
who that creature is.
Truly anonymous?
Such debauchery!
All italic and bent,
following each other
in a formation
of bird-like continuation.
Living as any other day,
working, haggling, talking,
eating and drinking and dancing
and sleeping around.
The lemur had been there,
just as he once wasn't;
and he was not carrying any information,
just another stupid animal,
with a stupid tag.
Walking,
more out of idiocy
than of bravery,
towards eternal damnation.
In the deepest,
and brightest
blank moment.
Formless, and shapeless,
blinker.
Timeless, and perpetual,
emanating pulses of time
throughout the limbo.
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3. |
B.B.N
01:25
|
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… And the baboon stopped,
thinking.
Wiped his butt cheeks,
and sat on the driver’s chair,
holding his beard in his fingers.
“Do not start the car”
The red kangaroo said.
It’s all coming back to me now…
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4. |
K.N.G.R
05:32
|
|||
Did you know that you have more bacteria
than you have human cells?
Germs,
bacteria…
You are basically a colony of bacteria
that lives of a sentience that drives
the machinery,
to provide nutritions for the fucking bacteria.
Boom, I just blew my own fucking mind!
Slapping left buttock
with the right hand.
driving that gravy train
up the inked valley.
Fucking shit is happening.
Slapping left buttock
with the right hand.
Driving that gravy train
with the creatures in my closet.
Let’s go back
and set the house in order.
And the ground
opens mouth wide,
swallowing all mankind in a bite.
Earth’s crust flips.
All land and civilization
is dipped in lava,
the surface of the earth
iss now what the mantle used to be.
Time is meaningless,
the image is self-growing.
You cannot force it to shape.
You cannot force it to change.
All the oceans vaporize,
and the planet is refurnished
with a cold desert.
Life is no more.
Reconstruction is a dream.
Dream is timeless;
knows no boundaries.
Right there, when time
becomes meaningless,
waiting in a void.
First time you fall in love,
and be branded,
and tree branches’ veins divde.
There’s no going back.
patterns emerge,
and re-emerge
out of chaos.
Louder and louder by each iteration.
Getting more complex each time,
while this process of purification,
and complexification amplifies
a deep, underlying,
magical base line of truth.
You have seen the process
many times.
You got the gist;
what goes through the filter
and what doesn't.
You're the baboon,
I am the kangaroo,
living in Strawberry Republic.
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5. |
M.R.C.N (Instrumental)
05:10
|
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6. |
F.F.T.D
04:40
|
|
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The path winds and flows,
carrying me through,
through the streams.
Uneven ritual dance
limping out of beat.
The image is not clear,
just a blurry apparition.
I blink,
and squint;
and memories, shame,
intertwine,
slowly melting in every breath.
I rush,
run through the valley.
A shadow pit of
bottled down human fear,
bottled down human shame,
raging on about
like a monkey on fire.
The drums,
forging with my pulse.
Every kick a new dub,
my heart-beat...
LDC in FFTD.
Imagine a high definition virtual reality system,
inside your brain.
An intruder hacking into the system
hacking about delicately,
trying to find insecurities
and low-level firewalls.
There's no vision to the system
when you are the system itself.
Deconstruction...
Destruction...
There's no vision to the system
when you are the system itself.
And when she got in,
I saw her.
An omnipotent,
immaculate ever-presence
of care
and devotion.
(There's no vision to they system when you are the system itself.)
The pieces
always fitted.
We just didn't see.
A change of perspective,
and a whole new world
of connections
opens up to you.
not as emotional release,
not as sadness.
A world of awe
to be honored properly
like a prince.
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7. |
W.I.A.B.T
03:28
|
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I could barely move
out of my bed.
It's a shit-load of experience.
I kinda got trapped
in a circle of control.
The circling is worth
punishing myself continuously.
Different parts of my psyche
were in a battle with each other.
One part,
was endlessly telling the others
to shut up;
and two other parts
were non-stop fighting
with each other;
and I was outside,
watching these three fools,
and almost laughing at them;
and at myself.
And remembering,
that I was worried
that it might not work at all.
The other guy was asking
"Is this what you wanted?"
Knocked me the fuck off my socks.
I tell you one thing,
and you hear
another...
I kept trying not to think.
Whatever I was doing
was a mistake.
I constantly made mistake.
I was trapped in my bed.
I need to be there
for the people that I care for,
and push myself more
to make the hands connect.
Guys, you are cared for.
Keep on trying.
The circling is worth it.
We will find the beauty in dissonance.
Lying in my bed,
thinking.
My thoughts would echo
into the freakiest glitch,
electro way.
The worms in his face,
would wind in and out.
But I was only reaching out
into the air.
I wanted to get out
of the cycle,
and just pour out my thoughts,
just pour out my love,
just pour out my heat.
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8. |
I.I.I
01:16
|
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9. |
R.L.Z.T.N
06:31
|
|||
There is a bliss
beyond the noise of my thoughts,
that I reach for.
I was looking for
the wrong thing.
Desperately wanting to touch.
I was expecting something,
that was not a thing.
It was a realization.
A knowledge,
mentally seeking it;
but it was just within me,
and flowing through me.
Then I realized,
it was information.
Some sort of knowledge
made of connections.
You know,
when they say
"God's made of love".
When you and me connect,
before we connect,
there's me and there's you.
But when we connect,
me and you,
and the connection
make up something
that is more than the sum of me and you.
And the funny thing is,
it was all the same information,
spelled out in vibrations
and frequencies.
Everything is made up of
some sort of information,
some knowing,
that its building blocks
were these connections
fueled by the intention
and the drive to connect.
At some point,
you do ache for a connection
as you tap into
a sea of understanding,
and you just want to share so bad.
and I realized
something interesting,
and also kind of,
I don't know...
Sad... Maybe?
Not sad,
but tragic,
bitter...
Once you step into
the path of knowing,
you are wounded by that knowledge.
You can never forget.
You won't believe it.
That will seep into you
like a cloth soaks water;
and you have no way
but to know more,
while there's no end in sight.
When I actually managed
to get out of bed,
I kept thinking
"This is me going about in my mind".
But I hadn't realized,
that I was walking the path
that the substance, the spirit,
had paved for me to walk in.
I was being guided!
There was something out there,
that I expected it to be something (to walk in).
But it was just the path...
It was the trip, itself.
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10. |
S.P.R.T
00:52
|
The Strawberry Republic Tehran, Iran
The Strawberry Republic is Behrooz Parham + Aria Mirshekari
Contact The Strawberry Republic
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