Album: Voodoocult 
|Welcome To A New Season Of Deathwish|
Welcome - to a new season of deathwish|
and other dangers.
Come in - you won't feel surprised just a little but scared.
Forget that - you are too romantic
It's just your argus - eyes will stare, and open your mind for a while.
But don't worry - next sleep will come.
It might be long, it might be eternal.
There's only one philosophical problem: shall I wait until I suddenly die.
Or shall give it a suicidal try?
No poet has ever had the courage to prove and find out why...life is so strong...
life is so cruel.
It fucks you with a knife, day in, day out, so please go and answer the question.
Then don't look away - look up and welcome to a millennium of feeling young forever.
It's a fistful of hate, I associate, when I think about the future - stay young forever!
Welcome - to a new season of deathwish.
|King Of The Beautifukl Cockroach|
High on the hills of time, high on the razor's edge high on the strang of life|
Deep in the mire, in the jungle of knives, dancing, we are, in danger zones
Amongst the healer-dealers, we celebrate the coronation of our own tristesse.
And early in the morning I seek my way back to a beautiful bed
that's my life I'm never too early that's how it is, my question too hungry
All I do was asking always, always asking oo fast, don't ask way -
or kill you by my true confession.
I guess I need a father to look up to your father
But he was never there, and never to please, makes me never feel quilty.
In a deca(y)de...of essence sense and ethics - passing by like an SST crashing on tycoon.
Smell of man-piss ever corner this is no moral tale
the pleaasures of sex, paralysed by decadence
no escape, through a toilet window, a smell of dirtesse, spoiled my inspiration
I celebrate the coronation of my own tristesse.
Sit on me come sit on me. I'm lazy. I marry the crazy my arms and legs are willing
but my body loves the chair too much
Happiness was in me still, the universe's benign indifference|
opened my heart forever, it was better disappear than to burn
All I want is that life remembers me.
Good life was mine no longer
Light and heat made me dizzy the dark got me in the end
Fool tricks asking for trouble in my mind a free man lies on my thinking
my feelings influence my physical condition, the door of my undoing
fatefully shoots like in a gangster - rap loud glare... not sad, just dream like.
A moment of violence enjoys everything in me
A hot day's fire makes me feel much better.
I suppose I loved her.
Every-thing in my life has changed, really
I was in great urge to touch a new mother.
Could I turn a professed theist in the end?
Today sun and life killed me.
|I Close My Eyes Before I Bleed To Death|
With me a scent of blood is posing like a devil, like my inner devil|
I think I better close my eyes I feel like a gang of wolves
'Was a bastard yesterday
Feel better today
Never mind I never think about tomorrow's day...in a day'
I better close my eyes can not bear the truth: the gods are playing cricket
the sun's a cripple...I love life!
Excuse my dirty kind of spirit sarcasm is my fame! (The flowers is my brain are growing in aspic)
Kiss me, for another day, kiss me!
I dream it every night: being pushed into a deep black hole of nothing,
while driving to the highway to hell...I feel me falling!
Until I wake up - in sweat - and I see how life can be quite nice!
I close my eyes...before I bleed to death
|When You Live As A Boy|
The minister of health and youth sends his son to sell crack he gets the profit,|
the son gets the crap
Here, where the mothers are pimps blackmail daughters to sell smack
to the judge and to the priest.
You play a game like a cricket in the garden of blood
"And when you live as a boy you better shut your mouth
Or when you live as a boy you give them a scent of blood or they break your neck"
Literature is dead because you know everything about death anyway.
Hearts are firegutted hooks tar benzoel and murder-oxide.
Fire's our blood
The minister of law and order is dancing on our grave. And rave!
Decade of rottening nicely and self-enjoyable.
The mothers of courage try to play their role in perfection but their seats are cheap
and the lodge is empty anyway.
Masonic lies hang like cobwebs from a celling of baroque stucco
sometimes angry young men climb up and hang on ceiling peeing on the lodge's chairs
buy they are empty anyway.
|Exorcised By A Kiss|
Another day on the tiny island where the bombs refuse to blow in churches...|
I'm going by boat to a beautiful place.
Where the sea is so full of yachts and boats that the smell of petrol wins the fight
against the smell of the sea.
On another coast I see a diver drowning a helicopter flies him to his new home
no rain is falling to kill the tropic heat, but today it could have saved some lives.
Back in the night I see a jealous husband shoot his young wife three times in her head
drowning, hanging in her own blood, her mother will cry for a weeek or too.
Tourists all over the place like a million ants in my bedroom
nice apartment-blocks will give them the room to roam
while all houses of character get ripped down
for the aunts of the ants.
I can't stand it - a dozen vodkas later in my club
I hit a guy, go wrong and mad a bouncer knocks me from the back
my lips spit a bit of blood, I decide to take a cab back
On the way I se another local using his knife...
Another day on the tiny island where the bombs refuse to blow in churches...
|Cliffhunger On A Bloody Sunday|
I just remember the day when I travelled to the smaller island|
They ferry so full of lunatics...in a disco, in a grotto.
I was riving in extremes and ecstasy
In the early morning hours, I stole a hunter's jeep
he was a birdshooter and I stole his gun, so I drove to mushroomrock to shoot some birds
when I walked down to the sea I saw a cliffhanger mistook him for a bird shot him four times
he was falling into the sea
I felt like a bloody film giggling and throwing the gun into the sun
back on the ferry, I drank tons of water to clear my head, flew back
and home north
End of story. I hope it wasn't true. I still sing "I don't like Sundays!"
and in honour of memory I can't sleep,
still feeling like butcher's knife...bad feelings eat me daily
Cliffhanger on a bloody sunday!
Once on a road to a bad neighbourhood|
a girl named Violenca stopped me on my way she just entered my car
her skirt was touching no legs
her voice was so deep - she was a men.
She told her high heels and his soul for another ten liri to me.
We broke into old apartment-blocks heading to suck me off
we pushed-in some doors quite violently
a tiny room with a board and a bed was all interior in there
and the dark shemale made me lie down on sheets and blankets of
filthy antique state
that would fry and shudder a nation into fate some cockroaches
dried in white juice
a glimpse of a look I dared
causing a brief heart-attack
I was nervous bur nevertheless the shemale she drank water
from my black spring
she liked me and said in tears "goodbye" a hundred times there is no doubt
I was in the hell where a ...(it) grows.
Violenca, I still shudder when I say goodbye...(Goodbye - the word no good anymore).
This is the song about YOU|
OU ARE what you are. YOU ARE what YOU are.
YOU ARE rich by what YOU are. YOU - is it never enough?
How do YOU feel?
About poverty and misery life - is it never too rich?
And YOU, the mother of altruism come lend me your hand dream on your crazy storyboard.
I wish You all the best, forever..but leave me alone, for now
Or...hey-stop! Lick my wounds let's talk
and play the visionaire instead of a daily monopoly.
Let's share and help and run for others...
but very soon someone will let YOU down. I better stop the marathon of life
YOU let me down - YOU maniac!
Now I have enough, liar - I'm superior, I'm angry pitbull called kid
I write my own law, want oral sex all the time.
You, egomania, I feel YOU...YOU're coming, YOU come - I feel YOU hard!
|Die Erotik Der Maschine|
Let hope and trust feel down on you - and smile let time die hard no you - |
How do I know if your simle is true? Your civil-mask lets nothing through.
This is the age of tasmanian smiles the return of the laughter-master.
What do you want? Is it despise?
Is THAT what you want? Then mind your head if you go ahead -
I reply with a demon-smile
we better slap hands before I release my angry tribe
But maybe we can scorn together
find a way and fight our way to another wonderful day
(who needs war in a world of wars?)
Let time die hard on us - and smile!
It's a great honour that you put your trust in me!
And if I feel obsession can I lean on you?
I feel you hard.
Composed by David Ball|
Lyrics by Phillip Boa
|Death Of A Kung Fu Fughter|
(This is NOT a song about Bruce Lee or his son)|
The sun feels good and George the fighter knows
he's the strongest man in Italy and Sicily Wining all the sicily man-fights
Tattoo-ed anywhere and all over
his eyes engraved deep down in his face he looks like a bird of prey
Living with his mother, an eagle and a tiger, a rat and an alligator,
sitting for days and his life to study his animals fighting.
Sometimes we can find him,
training or bouncing for a local club, while once he was guarding
for the president.
He was not very tall, but not very human and frightened the people off
The strongest man south of Rome has never been in love - except with his mother.
Suddenly and nearly 34, he meets the first girl in his life
and when she wakes him up the next morning
his mother sees a girl in his bed
pain is deep - she takes a knife and another
into his eye and the other waking up in agony
straight in the pool he jumps, to lose the last fight with an alligator
a true death and a proud mother.
will always remember him as a great hero.