1. |
||||
|
I’m waking up to ash and dust,
I wipe my bow and I sweat my rust,
I’m breathing in the fresh manure.
I’m breaking in, shaping up,
And checking out on the crusade ship.
This is it, the Apocalypse! Whoa…
I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones,
Enough to make my systems blow.
Welcome to the Middle Ages, to the middle age,
Welcome to the Middle Ages, to the middle age.
Whoa, whoa…
So introspective, but still attractive.
Whoa, whoa…
The force impactive of ages inactive.
I raise my flag, done my clothes,
It’s revolution, I suppose.
We’ll paint it gold to fit right it.
I’m breaking in, shaping up,
And checking out on the crusade ship.
This is it, the Apocalypse! Whoa…
I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones,
Enough to make my systems blow.
Welcome to the Middle Ages, to the middle age,
Welcome to the Middle Ages, to the middle age.
Whoa, whoa…
So introspective, but still attractive.
Whoa, whoa…
The force impactive of ages inactive.
All systems go, the sun hasn’t died.
Deep in my bones, straight from inside
I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones,
Enough to make my systems blow.
Welcome to the Middle Ages, to the middle age,
Welcome to the Middle Ages, to the middle age.
Whoa, whoa…
So introspective, but still attractive.
Whoa, whoa…
The force impactive of ages inactive.
|
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2. |
Don't worry
03:55
|
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|
Here is a little song I wrote
You might want to sing it note for note
Don't worry be happy
In every life we have some trouble
When you worry you make it double
Don't worry, be happy
Ain't got no place to lay your head
Somebody came and took your bed
Don't worry, be happy
The land lord say your rent is late
He may have to litigate
Don't worry, be happy
Ain't got no cash, ain't got no style
Ain't got no boy to make you smile
But don't worry be happy
Cause when you worry
Your face will frown
And that will bring everybody down
So don't worry, be happy
There is this little song I wrote
I hope you learn it note for note
Don't worry, be happy
In your life expect some trouble
But when you worry
You make it double
Don't worry, be happy
|
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3. |
Every bite you take
02:49
|
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|
Every bite you take,
Every move you make,
Every glass you break,
Every step you take,
They are watching you
Every single swipe,
Every word you type
Every time you gripe,
All your alibies,
They are watching you.
Oh, can’t you see, they’re tracking everything
And my poor heart aches with every step I take.
Every move you make,
Every news you break,
Every piece of cake,
Every slice of steak,
They are watching you.
Soon your freedom’ll be lost without a trace.
These devices have trust that you misplace.
Hey, look around, it is you they can’t replace.
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace.
I keep crying, "Baby, baby, please".
Oh, can’t you see, they’re tracking everything
And my poor heart aches with every step I take.
Every move you make,
Every news you break,
Every piece of cake,
Every slice of steak,
They are watching you.
|
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4. |
Adest Psammanthropos
03:47
|
|||
|
Ora, parvule,
Memento, mi fili,
Omnes enumerare.
Calens sub opertorio,
mane liber, sine peccato,
quoadusque Psammanthropos adest.
Dormi altero oculo aperto
manu pulvini tenaci.
Abit lumen,
nox adit,
tene manum meam,
imus ad terram impossibilem.
Quidquid male est, exstingue lumen,
Hodie veniunt res malae in cogitationem
Non de Albanive, sed vides
In somnis bella,
In somnis homines mendaces,
In somnis flammas anguis,
In iis quemquem mordacem.
Abit lumen,
nox adit,
tene manum meam,
imus ad terram impossibilem.
Dormire nunc venio,
Ora Dominum animam meam servare,
Si moriar antequam e somno excitem,
Orem Dominum animam meam tenere.
St, parvule, tace,
ignosce murmur ille a te auditum,
sunt solum beluae sub lectum tuum,
in armario tuo, in capite tuo.
|
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5. |
Wicked Name
03:34
|
|||
|
The world is on fire and God could save us, not you.
It's strange what pride will make foolish people do.
I'd never dreamed that you’d add Filioque to
Nicean Creed and expect that we would like it too.
No, I don't want to call you Pope!
No, I don't want to call you Pope!
At all
What a wicked name you have! Not good for Greeks and Slavs!
What a wicked thing to do to make a schism for two.
What a wicked thing to say that we pray the wrong way
What a wicked thing to do to make a schism for two
No, I don't want to call you Pope!
No, I don't want to call you Pope!
At all
|
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6. |
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7. |
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