ou_topia

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Terror

I try to keep my faith alive
I'm close enough to trip the wire
I cannot keep my hate inside
I'm gonna set myself on fire
I get closer beat by beat
To get the thing I really need
I'm fucking terrified
Will you be ever satisfied?

Day after day innocent people are being deported, interrogated and tortured, put through the third degree
Fundamentalist forces are undermining the integrity of liberal and democratic political structures
Radical anarchists, fascists and terrorists are responsible for the violence

I try to keep my faith alive
I'm close enough to trip the wire
I cannot keep my hate inside
I'm gonna set myself on fire
I get closer beat by beat
To get the thing I really need
I'm fucking terrified
Will you be ever satisfied?

Our societies are saturated with bloodlust, sensationalism and violence as a result of alienation from oneself’s reality
How much longer do we tolerate mass murder?

I try to keep my faith alive
I'm close enough to trip the wire
I cannot keep my hate inside
I'm gonna set myself on fire

Hand-cuffs and shackles won't frighten us
Neither cattle-prod nor electrical-whip will silence us
We shall use all peaceful means to overcome tyranny
Persist and march on
They can't use our shame against us
Regardless of race, social status or gender
We're all affected

I try to keep my faith alive
I'm close enough to trip the wire
I cannot keep my hate inside
I'm gonna set myself on fire
I get closer beat by beat
To get the thing I really need
I get closer beat by beat
To get the thing I really need
I get closer beat by beat
To get the thing I really need
I'm fucking terrified
Will you be ever satisfied?

Written and Composed by: Sascha Konietzko, En Esch, Gunter Shultz, Mark Durante, Chris Shepard, Raymond Watts

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Stabat mater dolorosa
juxta Crucem lacrimosa,
dum pendebat Filius.

살이 찢기는 아픔을 안고 엄마가 쓰려져 있다.
사지가 찢긴 아들 옆에 눈물로 녹아.
살덩어리로 누워있는 아들 옆에.

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Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918)

Strange Meeting

It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.

Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then ,as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, -
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

With a thousand pains that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
'Strange friend,' I said, 'here is no cause to mourn.'
'None,' said that other, 'save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled,
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery,
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.

I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now...'