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SLOGAN LYRICS

The Art of Ego

"The Art of Ego" (1992 Demo)

1. Near to the Horizon
2. Flowing Slowly
3. On Obese Bodies
4. Ollárié
5. Desert Rain (Instrumental)
6. Art of Ego
7. Flotation
8. The Sun (Instrumental)







1. Near to the Horizon

wallachy attila & lászló.: near to the horizon



in our little red boots

small jackfrost salutes

i'm getting frightened

and with bended mouth

i am asking dad

is beauty still the truth?

from his deformed head

a reply instead

he belched slop over me

my way loads into

country of the asymmetrical smiles

near to the horizon

near to the horizon

this place is untold

it fills the near present

there is no justice

there is shame thought

aborted the fear

but still we are

near to the horizon

if i'm near to the horizon

i'm future




2. Flowing Slowly

wallachy lászló: flowing slowly



laid down on melting steel

dying future doesn't wait

and it's flowing slowly

into the sea of hate

that sea is the damned end

future doesn't pretend

in shadows of gallows

prostrated out by heat

discouraged and fainted

haunted by the old dream

i'm fighting for promise

of new universe

oxigen be needed

for feed the men and plans

burn all the trashes

and make the aims glow

at the execution of

the great stupidity

i would be heartly there

spectacle would gladden me

timeless infinity

why don't you give it to me

this puny nice pleasure

would you end universe?




3. On Obese Bodies

wallachy attila: on obese bodies



mirth rattles there

silence dwelt

on obese bodies

we fear huddled together

on train of time when gladness comes

to calm down would be good now

and dreaming in dull rhythm

bearing the light of beauty

smoothing my dried face into a smile

i stood up on two legs

to call you but they spat on my face

the bursting applause oppressed my voice

on dim nights im stretching to steel

to disturbe time cos i know

in which direction it proceeds

and i know to help stepping down

i will perish

time got sprained by mocking

i just knocked on the bright steel

we know perfectly

the net of real and ideal tendencies

the impotent might of instincts

doesn't disturb me

on dim nights im stretching to steel

to disturbe time cos i know

in which direction it proceeds

and i know to help stepping down

i will perish

on dim nights im stretching to steel

to disturbe time cos i know

in which direction it proceeds




4. Ollárié




5. Desert Rain (Instrumental)




6. Art of Ego

wallachy attila: art of ego



i remained alone with you

after the timeless fight

who ever has touched me

took away a piece

i'll become life again

momentmen said to me

art of ego ever makes you free

you are sleeping and i think of myself

i saw from the window time trood on

and space bended

now i can't find plane which i can cross

the heap of of the points creates something

different the new whole closes me from itself

what will i be a part of?

in the world i'm dispersed over by you

if you hurt yorself i'm crying in you too

if i face the sun the present doesn't tire me

you're grasping me now too

frightened by creeping dreams

you cry on shoulders of sad butterflies

their wings are wet by your tears

adhere to me forever

don't ask me if there'll still be love

or another world which is ours too

the dawn is approaching and i don't sleep

therefore don't awake to nothing

i woke in the land of teddybears

where hangover minutemen ruled

squatting on small flat dreams

momentmen said to me

art of ego ever makes you free

they used to try to bend the light

maybe they can make it speak somehow

momentmen said to me

art of ego ever makes you free




7. Flotation

wallachy lászló: flotation



i'm figure of marzipan

naive worshiped sweet

but stil it rains me out

and the wind crumbles me away

i'm weaker than the weakest

and endlessly selfless

i puke even the last

lifegiving teardrop

leave me to myself

if my face falls down

and i become deformed

world's only disgrace

i'm a lazy god

you could drink my blood

purely by myself

in the flotation

theatre is the birth

theatre is the death

love only yourselves

in the flotation




8. The Sun (Instrumental)

 


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